#HIGH furniture movers

[whiteglovedc]

[the-original-skipps]

|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @nico-velvet @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @mawhOre @lonaah @t8Izw @guiltycherries

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[the-fluff-piece]

Moving in together

Finally, you found a flat and will live together!

How will this work out with monster three, Law and Smoker?

Modern world AU headcanon about moving and living to together. Sfw and funny

Also check out my masterlist

And headcanon masterlist

Zoro

Doesn't own furniture

He basically lived in Nami's closet, paying her full rent. One day he just left his stuff at your place and said "hope it's ok". Now his name is on the doorbell next to yours.

Cannot assemble ikea furniture. The orientation of wooden parts relative to the other parts is a mystery to him. The first week, you will sleep on a mattress on the floor

His clothes will fit in two drawers

He'll be running around the flat naked very often. You don't mind.

Will build a little gym in one corner and work out daily

Law

Previously lived in a basement, is overwhelmed by windows and high ceilings

Brings mostly generic furniture, but has a few Antique gems in his possession

Says things like "can't wait to have you in my bed for good" when you decide to sell yours and take his antique bed with beautiful wood carvings

Even though he doesn't seem excited about your big, fluffy blankets in pastels you'll soon find him as a blanket burrito on the couch

Cannot hide his grumpiness from you anymore, has to confront it by silently cuddling up to you

Sanji

All his stuff is second hand but in good condition, probably from flea markets

Has already planned your shared Home long before you brought it up

Has several breakdowns during moving because he is a perfectionist, needs lots of kisses and hugs and a cooking break to function again

The flat has an extra room which he loves to think of as the nursery, starting a loving family of his own is always on his mind since he met you

Luffy

Moves out from a strange flatting situation with his friends, basically brings them with him

Will hang the walls with posters of insects

Wakes up every morning full of energy listening to his favorite playlists, jumping through the flat. Since you taught him how to use the coffee maker, he at least serves you some coffee

your fridge is always either full of stuff - or empty. there is no in between.

Smoker

All his things are grey and generic. Except his old army stuff, that's army colored

he ist the most efficient mover ever. He carries your freezer up to the third floor without an elevator

He is confused by some of the stuff you bring with you. Why do you need all those stuffed animals? Shawls? Blankets? It's soft though. He likes to touch your soft things when he feels like no one's watching.

Other things openly excite him. Like all that underwear, your sexy outfits. Now he can look at all of them and suggest what you could wear for the next date...

[atinystraynstay]

Angel Season - Jeong Yunho

Synopsis: Yunho first noticed you when you moved into the building. He was attracted not just by your physical beauty but the way your smile outshined the sun. He has spent the past year making little conversation, trying to be a good neighbor. However, he refused to go into the new year without making a move.

Pairing: neighbor!Jeong Yunho x reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, next door neighbors/cute boy next door, angst - heartache, jealousy

Contains: mentions alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8.9k

December 30, 2022

"Miss, what floor are you on?" "Third floor, apartment 3A," you called out.

The mover nodded his head before whistling for the other. "3A boys!"

One was lifting your bed out of the back of the moving truck, another person still in the truck for support. You stood on the curb of the sidewalk, watching. You were able to help with the smaller boxes, the ones filled with either trinkets or kitchen items. But for the longer furniture, you were more than happy to let the professionals handle it.

As people were carrying things into your new home, you took a moment to look around your surroundings. You've always been attracted to city living. For some people, you knew that they could get overwhelmed by the high-rises and busy streets. That was what attracted you to living here. You liked the idea that you could go about your day without being noticed, being able to blend into the crowds. Yet, you liked the endless possibilities of making this city whatever you want it to be.

Despite the rainy, chilly weather, there was no place you'd rather be.

Seeing as all your furniture had been taken out of the moving truck, you decided to lend a hand now. The faster the movers could drop off your stuff, the sooner you could start unpacking and decorating.

You stepped Ito the truck, going to retrieve one of the boxes you knew you could manage. "Do you need some help there?"

Caught off guard, you jumped at the sound of the new voice. You turned around to see who was talking to you. Much to your surprise, you were greeted by a tall, young man. He couldn't have been older than you.

Wow, he's absolutely stunning.

He wore a gentle smile, feeling a bit bad for giving you a scare. He stood with his hands in his pockets as he stood at the bottom of the truck. You felt a bit guilty at first contemplating taking up his offer. What if he had somewhere to be? What if he was just trying to be nice? However, you came to your senses because he wouldn't have offered if he was serious, right?

"If you don't mind!"

The young man nodded his hand, extending his arms out to take the box from you. You grinned at the gesture, quickly grabbing the box for him. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Lucky for you, the movers got all the heavy stuff, so we just have a few more boxes," you laughed. You quickly grabbed a box for yourself before joining him out of the truck and on the ground. "Hey, I am pretty strong," he said, pretending to be offended. "By the way, my name is Yunho." "I'm y/n. I should've asked before leading you up to my apartment."

You both shared a laugh. Carrying one of the boxes, you took the lead in showing the man to your new apartment. Your mother always told you not to talk to strangers, but there was no way you'd let this handsome stranger just walk past you. Not when he approached you first. "Wait, you're moving here?" He asked, shocked. "Oh no. Please don't tell me there is something wrong with the apartment," you whined. He quickly shook his head, wanting to ease any worries or concerns you may have. Yunho never thought that offering assistance, trying to be a good person would lead him to probably the best thing to happen to him all year.

Yunho was out on his usual routine on a Saturday morning. He went out for his usual coffee and bagel after running errands. It was a little reward for him for getting out of bed rather than staying in. The bigger reward was running into you. "No, I actually live here," he chuckled softly. Yunho was glad that you were in front of him, back turned as you guided him up the steps to your new unit. Because if you turned around, you would see him with the widest grin on his face. He was like a little boy on Christmas morning who opened up the one present he has been asking for all year. "Small world!" You giggled. "What unit are you?" "3B, what about you?" "Well hi neighbor," you teased. "I'm moving into 3A."

Correction, this was now the best present he could have received.

Valentine's Day - February 2023

Over the past month or so, Yunho and you have passed by each other. Sometimes it is when you are entering the building and he's leaving, which he'll open the door for you. Or sometimes it is when you are both returning after a night out.

He was starting to pick up on things that consisted in your daily life. For example, he knew that you liked a fresh bouquet of flowers for your apartment every 2 or 3 weeks. You always had one bad of groceries, presumably buying just for the week. Friday nights always included a bottle of red wine.

All of his friends were aware of the girl next door. They often tried to catch a glimpse of you when they were over to visit. Yunho certainly has developed a crush on the girl next door. How couldn't he? You radiated brighter than the lights atop the Empire State Building.

Tonight was Valentine's Day. Both of your respective jobs kept you out of the apartment most nights. You two had exchanged numbers, for the sake of knowing someone else in the building and for emergencies. Yunho hadn't brought himself to text you outside of those conditions as he was afraid of giving the wrong impression. He didn't even crack under the relentless teasing of his friends on his failure to make a move after a month and a half of knowing you.

He felt a stronger urge to text you today. Did she have a date for Valentine's Day? Did she even want one? Was she even single?

Yunho was on the unlucky side of not having a date for the evening. His work had consumed the better part of days, so he hadn't put much of his energy towards dating. He often came home, reheated dinner if he hadn't ordered takeout, and slept before doing it all again the next day.

Trudging up the steps, he was contemplating if tonight would be the night he finally texts you. However, he knew texting you was pointless. Not when you were practically standing in front of him.

His eyes widened, taking you in. You wore a black peacoat with the red dress you were wearing peaking out underneath. Silver heels were hugging your feet. He has never seen your hair done in curls, but it was becoming one of his favorite looks on you. You wore red lipstick to go with the dress. The one accessory he wasn't pleased to see was your hands gripping the plastic loops of a white takeout bag. Oh no, she did have a date tonight. Fuck, I missed my opportunity.

Seeing movement from your peripheral, you turned your head over. The light frown on your lips was soon replaced with a gentle smile. Yunho always brought joy into your life, even if the interactions were minimal. "Hi Yunho," you spoke, your voice softer than usual. It didn't carry its usual tone of happiness. He could tell that there was something wrong. He felt the urge to take care of anything that might be troubling you, but he didn't want to overstep his bounds. "Hey y/n. I'm surprised you're not out tonight. No suitors catch your attention?" You smiled wider at his compliment. Yunho always knew how to make you feel special. Any girl would be lucky to have him as their boyfriend. "Unfortunately no. I, uh, got stood up, so ended up picking up Chinese from the place around the corner on my way back." This time, Yunho frowned. You got stood up? How could anyone do that to anyone, but especially how could anyone do that to you? You were literal treasure in Yunho's eyes. He felt saddened for you, but angry at whoever made you upset.t

"Oh, y/n. I'm sorry to hear that. Are you ok? Is there anything I can do?" "You're too sweet. No, I'll be okay. I think I just want to be alone, if that's ok?"

Of course, whatever you felt like you needed. He nodded his head, offering a gentle smile. "I'll see you around?" He asked. You smiled back, a bit wider. Seeing Yunho was the favorite part of your day.

The two of you entered your respective apartments. Once the door was shut to his, he let out a soft sigh. He slipped off his winter jacket, hanging it by the door before slipping off his shoes. He trudged himself over further into his apartment, turning on the floor lamp in the living room. He claimed his seat on the couch before looking out the windows into the city.

His earlier dilemma seemed to resolve himself. Sitting up slightly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His fingers made quick work at typing a text. A very important text to you.

"He's a loser, y/n. You deserve the whole world and I know there's someone out there ready to give it to you 🙂"

He set his phone on the arm of the chair. He wasn't sure if you would respond, or even read his text tonight. It tore him up inside knowing some jerk made you upset. He also felt some responsibility. Maybe if he had gotten the courage to confess to you, he could have saved you from the disappointment? I mean, he couldn't even dream of letting you down by any means.

Yunho was surprised to feel the vibration of his phone. He never acted so quickly to pick something up before. "You're the sweetest in the whole world. Thanks Yunho 🩷 to hell with him I guess"

He chuckled at your words before trying a response back. "To hell with him. You are an angel, don't settle for less."

Little did he know how wide you were smiling next door. You were at your kitchen countertop. The tears of frustration quickly forgotten the moment Yunho texted you. It was as if he answered your silent prayer.

April 2023

It was a rainy day in the city. Spring was in full swing, the green buds on the trees in the neighborhood beginning to peanut. People all around the city were beginning to put plants out on their balconies. You always loved rainy days. They always soothed your soul, loving to just curl up and watch rain run down the window.

"I can't believe they cancelled the game," Yunho sighed from outside the hallway. You've learned that he can be loud when he's excited or frustrated. This seems like it is the latter.

There were no other voices on the side of the door. He was probably on the phone. Maybe with Yeosang? You've met his friends here and there as they float in and out of his apartment. There were all friendly towards you. It was just a bigger testament to who Yunho is as a person.

You didn't hear much of the conversation before the door closed. Maybe this was your chance. You planned on having a lazy day anyways. Maybe read a book, watch a movie, but you know that it is always better with company.

Taking your phone from beside you, you unlocked it with ease. Your fingers eagerly typing a text message to the boy next door. Your speed of texting matched the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Hey neighbor! Think I just heard you get home, wanna come over to watch a movie?"

Your heart was pounding both with excitement and anxiety. You weren't typically the person to make the first move. Since moving in, you were very grateful for your friendship with Yunho. He's treated you with nothing but kindness, really setting a standard on how your guy friends and even dates should be treating you.

At night, your mind often got curious about the topic. What would it be like to be with Yunho? Not once have you seen a woman enter his apartment. He never even mentioned going on dates. There potential was there, but you just weren't sure if he was just being a good friend, an exceptional neighbor, or if he was into you.

"Wow perfect timing, angel" You grinned seeing his nickname for you. "Plans got cancelled, so I'll be over in 5? I'll bring the popcorn!"

Springing up from the couch, you rushed over to your bathroom. You were wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were unsatisfied with your hair though. It was curled in a messy bun on the top of your head. You quickly pulled at the scrunchie, releasing your hair so it fell down to your shoulders. You began brushing it out. You didn't have much time.

This could solve every answer you've had over the past few weeks. This could easily just be two friends hanging out. What if it turned into something more?

Y/n, chill. You took a deep breath, trying to ease your racing mind. You didn't like building up expectations. While you would like it if Yunho made a move or gave some indicator he is attracted to you, you didn't want to set yourself up for disappointment.

Knock knock knock.

Here goes nothing. You took a deep breath in the reflection of your bathroom mirror. It is just two friends hanging out.

You turned off your bathroom light before attending to the front door of your apartment. Your heart beat matched the pace you were walking, trying your hardest not to be too fast. You were conscious maybe he would hear you racing to the door, even thought you were eager to have him over.

Opening the door, you smiled wide to be greeted by Yunho. He was standing on the other side, holding a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. The hallway beginning to smell of the delicious food. "Sorry, it took me so long! I just wanted to make sure I got the popcorn ready."

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

The sun was hidden behind grey clouds, providing little light throughout your apartment. You insisted on lighting a few candles, to create a warm feel to your home compared to the cold weather outside. It also helped create a bit of a romantic ambiance to the afternoon.

You two were sat pretty close together on your three-seat grey couch. An emerald blanket was spread across your laps with the bowl of popcorn in between.

After hearing that you have not seen a single Spiderman movie, Yunho was determined to show you all the movies. Or at least the big 3 - Maguire, Garfield, and Holland. He tried insisting the two of you didn't have to watch all three movies today, but you had no other plans. You would be more than happy to spend the afternoon like this with Yunho.

Throughout the movie, you guys would balance light conversation and watching the movie. When you were focused on the film, Yunho would glance at you to see your reaction. He adored Spiderman, so seeing if you liked one of his favorite things captured his attention. He also would focus on how you smiled at certain parts of the film, particular the scenes between Peter Parker and Mary Jane.

When you weren't focusing on the film, you two would talk more. Sure, you've made light conversation when passing, and a bit more meaningful over text, but this was the perfect time to get to know each other. Yunho wanted to know about your dreams, your passions, your dislikes. He wanted to know all the little things that made you who you are.

It was about 5:18pm when you guys started the the first movie with Andrew Garfield. You felt your eyes getting a bit heavy. Yunho took notice, moving the bowl of popcorn out of the way for you. Noticing, you smiled appreciatively to him. He always had your best interests at heart.

Your eyes grew heavy, body sinking more into the couch. Before either of you knew it, your head fell on his shoulder. Without the bowl of popcorn in the way, your body curled into his. Yunho's eyes were wide and heart nearly stopped before speeding up.

Glancing down at you, your chest was resting against his shoulder. You looked adorable. Your eyelashes were resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. Your hands were grazing the side of his body. There was no chance of him going anywhere now. Not that he would want to.

Very slowly, cautious as to not wake you up, his arm draped over you. He sunk slightly into the couch before resting his head on yours. Sleep began taking over his body. He was content.

May 2023

"What do you mean you're leaving?" You frowned.

Yunho suggested that the two of you hung out weekly. It started off with going to local bars to vent about the woes of work and life. Those quickly changed into dinner out, to get a change of scenery and explore the neighborhood. Tonight, Yunho suggested dinner at his place. You weren't sure why at first, but obviously excited to spend quality time with your best friend. But now you get why he opted for staying in.

"I'm not leaving forever," Yunho reassured. "I'm just going to Korea for a little bit. It's been a while since I visited my family, and I can finally afford a ticket after my promotion."

Of course, you knew that family was important. If you got the opportunity to visit your family more often, you'd easily say yes. You couldn't help though but feel a bit selfish in wanting Yunho to stay.

"How long am I going to be without seeing you around?" "3 months," he said sheepishly.

Dramatically, you let out a whine and threw your head back. Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at your antics. It made his heart swell seeing as that you were going to miss him.

He moved his hand over to place it gently on yours. The light touch, even though it was feather like, felt like electric shocks throughout your body. You always craved his touch. Ever since that day last month when you woke up to his arms wrapped around you on his couch.

"Angel, it'll go by quick, I promise." "Can you also promise me something?" "Anything." "Promise that you won't have a realization while you're away that you actually want to stay in Korea? Because the thought of you moving and actually having to say goodbye will kill me."

He chuckled again, a wide smile on his lips. "I promise."

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

Turns out that all of Yunho's friends were traveling with him to Korea. All of the boys have apparently been speaking about it for months, but the idea was finally leaving the group chat.

Even though you wanted to accompany all the boys to the airport to see them off, you knew that it would be too painful. Even if he was going to be gone for 3 months, it felt like a part of you was leaving as well. At least with saying goodbye at the apartment, you could hurry back to your place and shed tears if you want to.

Going down the steps of the apartment building, you two headed out the front door. Yunho had called an Uber to take him to the airport, not wanting to pay the overnight prices for parking at the airport especially with how long he was going to be.

It felt very reminiscent to the day you two met. You even tried to offer carrying one of Yunho's bags, but he refused to let you help. You rolled your eyes at him. The least you could do was get in front of him to open the front door rather than watch him struggle to do it with a rolling suitcase, a duffle bag, and his backpack. "Thank you, angel," he chuckled. He could sense you were a bit annoyed for not being able to help. He loved the way your nose scrunched up like a bunny when you were annoyed.

He walked towards the edge of the sidewalk, on the lookout for the vehicle. You stood back slightly, smiling up at him. You were trying your best not to let your sadness ruin the moment. He has been excited about traveling home since he bought the ticket. Yunho described all his favorite places in Seoul, all the things he missed.

"You better still talk to me while you're in Seoul," you said teasingly.

With his bags on the concrete, he turned towards you. He wore that wide smile of his, that wide smile that caused your knees to get week. He opened his arms, inviting you into them. No way were you going to object.

Walking into his arms, he wrapped them around you. He pulled you in close to him by your waist. His lips pressed against your forehead, causing your eyes to flutter shut at the sensation. How am I going to survive 3 months without him?

"I'll talk to you as much as I can, take all the photos I can," he promised.

Satisfied with that answer, you nodded your head. Your arms had found a place around his torso, holding yourself go. Maybe if you held onto each other long enough, he would want to stay. If only.

You felt two taps on your lower back. Raising an eyebrow, you pulled back to lookout Yunho. He was already looking at you. It was as if time froze. He towered over you, but his face was so close to you. His eyes never leaving yours. You could melt into a puddle due to his gaze.

Keeping one hand around you, his other hand moved to cup your face. He tilted your head slightly to the side. His fingertips rested against your cheek. The whole time, he wore a smile on his lips. Regardless of what he had up his sleeves, you put your whole trust in him. You never doubted his intentions with you.

A shiver ran down your spine feeling the padding of his thumb run across your lower lip. Was this actually happening? He glanced at your lips before looking into your eyes. Yunho was looking for any hesitation from you, any sign that he should stop before getting to ahead of himself. Yet, you never looked away.

"Wait for me?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. You were frozen in place. Your mind had become fuzzy, all the sounds of the busy city around you faded. All that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who seemed to be saying everything you've been yearning to hear since you two met. Was this actually happening? Somehow, you got yourself to nod.

Yunho smiled wider before letting his desires take over. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he pressed his lips against yours.

HONK!

The kiss was rudely short after hearing the sound of a car horn. You two pulled away, both confused and upset at the interruption. Yunho looked over his shoulders before gasping softly. There was his Uber to whisk him away from you. "Shit," he sighed.

Looking back at you, he smiled apologetically. You smiled back before leaning up on his tiptoes. Sensing that Yunho was actually going to leave, the Uber driver got out of the car to grab Yunho's suitcases and place them in the trunk. Just enough time to do one last thing.

"Don't worry. I'll save all the kisses for you, I promise to wait for you."

You leaned up to press one last lingering kiss on his lips. One last kiss for now at least.

June 2023

Since Yunho left, you got pretty good at figuring out timezone differences.

You didn't want to interfere with Yunho's daily life. You were sure that he has plans to visit family, local places he hasn't been able to go to in years, and make meaningful memories with his best friends and loved ones. Yet, Yunho was insistent he will make time for you.

Every Wednesday night and Sunday morning, you two would FaceTime. Thank God for modern technology. "I wish you could be here," Yunho admitted one night.

You frowned and nodded. Ever since Yunho left, he was all you think about. You tried getting yourself involved more in your work, but it as summer. Work was a bit slow. You had friends in the city who tried to help you out of your conundrum, taking you out on the weekends. But you still thought about him, wanting to experience summer in the city with him.

It made you sick to your stomach when you saw couples in the park. You often thought about the kiss you two shared on the morning he left. You wondered where you guys would be, romantically, if he had stayed. You could easily envision dates in the park, nights out with friends, and everything in between. You were anxiously waiting for his return to know where things could go. "Y/n?"

You blinked a couple of times as he called out to you. A soft blush coated your cheeks, coming to realize you haven't spoken in a few minutes. "Sorry, Yunho. Just thinking about what it would be like when you get back here," you explained.

He seemed to smile at your response. It was good to know you missed him as much as he missed you. Though, if it was a competition, he could say that he missed you more. "Oh angel, I know. Just two more months, right?"

All you could do is nod, trying your best to smile along with him. He looked good, even with the low quality of FaceTime with a poor wifi connection. He glowed from being out in the sun, probably glowing also with happiness by being back at home. "I know what will make us feel better," he suddenly announced. You perked up with curiosity. Yunho always had some trick up his sleeve. That was what you loved about him. He always kept you on your toes, never settling for a routine. "Go check the front door."

"You better not be pulling a prank on me, Jeong Yunho!" "After you called me by my full name? Absolutely not."

You rolled your eyes playfully before pushing yourself away from the desk in your bedroom. Yunho watched with amusement as you disappeared from the frame. Following his request, you made your way to the front door of your apartment. What did he do?

There was no knock at the door to indicate someone was there. However, you trusted Yunho. You slowly opened the door, confirming there was nobody standing behind there. Instead, there was a bouquet of flowers on your doormat. You gasped softly to see it wa a rather large bouquet, much larger than the ones you pick up from Trader Joe's.

You bent over to take the glass vase into two hands. There was a yellow bow wrapped around it. You also noticed that there was a card sticking in between the flowers. With one arm securing the vase, you flipped the card over.

"Happy birthday, my angel. Hopefully these make up for me being away."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. How did you get so fortunate? Wanting to hurry back to Yunho, you returned to the inside of your apartment. Both of your hands held the vase, so you closed the door with your foot. You began to make your way back to your bedroom where he awaited for you.

"Yunho, I love-" but you froze. Instead of his face on the monitor, you were met with your laptop background. You frowned a bit, assuming that maybe the connection got disrupted.

He'll call you back. He always did when this happened.

For now, you walked over to your windowsill. You placed the vase there, so it could get the necessary sunlight. He knew just the ways to make you smile, even when he is thousands of miles away. You pulled your phone out to snap a photo of it, with the card showing.

August 2023

The conversations between you and Yunho began to become less frequent. It chipped away at your heart when you would go days, sometime a week without hearing from him. Yet, his friends reassured you that he was having a great time back at home.

All of Yunho's friends easily became yours, despite them being on the other side of the world. You then decided to throw a welcome back party for all the boys. You had your own friends enlisted to help with decorations - there were balloons, streamers, and even a cake. You were excited to have some of your favorite people back. But not more excited than you were to have Yunho back.

It was 7:40pm when the boys began to come to the party. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were the first to arrive. Your friends started to trickle in one at a time. After a whole summer without Yunho, you wanted to have a room full of positive energy. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung arrived next. Then quickly came Jongho.

Each time the door opened, you looked over, hoping to see the man of the hour. Yet, you felt your smile flatten when it wasn't Yunho.

Your friends all giggled at your reactions. They were quick to reassure you that he was on his way. While Yunho's friends all were quick to take your mind off of Yunho's absence.

Mingi was the second to last person to arrive. Mingi was the first person in the friend group to meet. He's known Yunho the longest, so meeting him felt like you were meeting the president. While you and Yunho remained in undefined territory, you wanted to make a great impression. "Y/n!" "Mingi!"

You two approached each other, wrapping each other in a hug. You laughed as Mingi began rocking you back and forth. He definitely became like a big brother to you, often using your drastic height difference as a great point for laughter. "What's up, short stuff?" "Nothing much, Mingi. How's the weather up there?"

Before he could respond, there was knocking at the door. Your heart skipped a beat. Yunho. Mingi glanced at the door before looking at you. His hands were placed on your forearms, keeping you still rather than running towards the door like you wanted to rush to the door. "Wait, y/n. There's something I need to tell you." "Mingi, come on. Can't it wait?" Your best friend beat you from going to open the door. Your attention on Mingi was lost before you quickly looked over at the door.

You could feel your stomach drop at what was revealed behind the closed front door. There was Yunho. With a girl by his side. Her hand was on his chest which made you physically ill. Yunho was smiling from ear to ear, saying hello to his friends until his eyes landed on you. That's when your smile faded. He looked as if he was about to say something to you but you quickly looked away.

This can't be happening.

"I need to get out of here," you murmured. Getting the hint, Mingi stepped aside, blocking Yunho's view of you. Your eyes looked around your room until you eyed the fire escape by your kitchen window.

With your eyes on the target, you maneuvered yourself through the crowd to the fire escape. The majority of people at the party were in your living room, enjoying the food you laid out and making conversations amongst themselves. You just needed a chance to breathe before returning inside.

You propped open the window, slipping out to climb the steps. You at least climbed until you were out of sight from inside the room. Your eyes were burning slightly, your emotions catching up to you.

"Mingi, where is she?" "Where is who?"

You heard Yunho groan before there was more shuffling of footsteps throughout your apartment. You should have closed the window behind you, but it was too late. You put your hands on your forehead, trying your best to stop crying before the inevitable happened. It didn't take long anyways. "There you are," Yunho sighed. Fuck me for having a tiny apartment. You didn't pick your head up to hear Yunho climb out to join you. "What? You're not going to even look at me?"

Who does he think he is? "You made me promise," you murmured. "Y/n, angel, you gotta at least speak up."

You felt your blood begin to boil now. He doesn't get the right to call you that anymore. Not when he broke your heart. You did pick your head up, your jaw clenched. You stared at him.

He leaned against the iron railing of the fire escape. He looked guilty. He knows what he did. "You made me promise to wait for you. And I held up my end of the bargain." "Angel, I know-" "Don't you dare fucking call me that."

Yunho's eyes opened wide. He has never heard you shout before. Let alone he never thought you would shout at him. He was at a lost for words. "Is that why you stopped our FaceTime calls?"

You watched as he sighed, dropping his head. Your heart dropping and shattering along with him. "Get out." Y/n, please. Let me explain what happened." "I said get out, Yunho!"

Mingi quickly appeared at the sound of you screaming. You didn't even notice that there was a small watch party watching you experience heartbreak from the kitchen. "Come on, mate. Take Ara with you." Yunho glanced between the two of you, even more thrown off as to why Mingi was coming to your defense.

However, Yunho didn't want to make matters worse. He didn't want to further upset you in your own home, but the damage was done. You turned your face to focus on the skyline, not wanting to watch Yunho walk into the art of someone else.

When you noticed Yunho was gone, you groaned loudly before resting your head back in your hands. What were you going to do?

October 2023

You haven't spoken to Yunho in weeks. You constantly had music playing from the speakers in your living room or walked around your apartment with headphones to avoid hearing any and all interactions between Yunho and his girlfriend. You even were contemplating on moving to a new place in the new year, but your financial situation limited you on where you could go.

Since things went radio silent, your conversations with the other boys have also gone quiet. It pained you to lose them as friends, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach out there. Not when Yunho might be brought up.

At the moment, you were reading a book on your couch. You had the music playing in the background as you had connected your iPhone to your wireless speaker, drowning out any noise. At least someone gets a happily every after in the novel. You had a glass of red wine on the coffee table, getting lost in the pages.

You were about to flip the page to your book when the music cut out. Your eyes widened as you feared the worst. No no no. You couldn't afford your phone dying. You were sure you put it on the charger. There was no room for mishaps like this.

However, it wasn't the worst case you imagined. It might have been something worst, definitely unexpected to say the least. You weren't sure how to feel seeing the name flash on your phone screen.

Mingi.

Slowly, you reached over to pick up the phone. You stared at it for the time being. What could he want? Mingi was the last person you thought would reach out to you. Wasn't there a rule under bro code that said not to take your friend's exes, if you could even call yourself that? You weren't sure what you even were to Yunho.

Mingi's name vanished from your phone screen, the music restarting. You let out a sigh, about to sink into your couch to ease your racing heart when he started calling again.

It had to be serious if he was calling you twice. Hesitantly, your thumb hit the green accept button. You held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello? Mingi?" "Long time since I've heard from you," he said cheerfully. "Mind coming to open the door for me?"

What? You glanced the door before standing up. You walked over to the door slowly. Once you were at the peephole of your unit door. There he was, standing as he looked around the hallway with his hand up to his ear, holding the phone.

Slowly, you opened the door and gazed up at Mingi. He noticed the movement and finally looked ahead of him. His smile grew when he saw you for the first time in months. "Hi, y/n," he spoke softly. You could hear his voice from right in front of you and from the speaker. "Hi Mingi. What can I do for you?" You said, unhanging up the phone to address him properly.

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

For the first time in weeks, you felt genuinely happy. You arm was linked with Mingi's as he guided you to your apartment unit.

While it's been weeks since contact with him, it felt like you guys were picking up right where you left off. Maybe that is why it was so easy to say yes to Mingi when he asked you out for dinner. There was also a special connection between you and Mingi. From the moment you met, the communication between you two has been strong.

Tonight, you got to explore that on a deeper level. Mingi waited patiently in your living room as you got ready. He took you to a restaurant around the corner, which was a bit more upscale than what you were anticipating. You put on a black body con dress, wearing a light leather jacket to go with it.

Mingi looked at you as if you were made our of the stars. You looked enchanting. And since the fallout, you felt just as amazing.

Being the absolute gentleman he is, Mingi walked you to your front door not just of your apartment building but to your unit. Part of you was contemplating about inviting him inside for a nigh cap, but you really appreciated where things were between the two of you. It felt like Mingi just walked back into your life, and you didn't want to risk losing him again. "Mingi, I cannot thank you enough for this evening," you smiled.

He looked over at you as he led you up the staircase. "It really was long overdue, sweet girl. I've been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't want to overstep," he confessed. You felt your cheeks get hot at his confessional, looking down as you watched your feet move up the steps. Mingi laughed lightly in response, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

You two soon arrived at your front door. Biting your lip gently, you stood in front of him yet you couldn't bring yourself to detach yourself from him. And deep down, Mingi didn't want you to eat go either.

"So, I gotta ask," you began. "What was this? I mean, was this two friends getting reacquainted with each other or..?" "Or something more?"

Mingi wrapped one arm around you, pulling you in closer. You blushed even harder, a hand going to rest on his chest. Your heart was pounding even after. You were convinced that Mingi could feel it. He opened his mouth to speak but froze when he saw movement behind you. You raised an eyebrow and dared to look over your shoulder, wanting to see what stole your date's attention.

You felt your throat suddenly get dry.

There was Yunho. He was holding a bag of groceries, standing at the top of the steps that led to your respective units. He was staring at the two of you, eyes flickering back and forth. There was no way he just caught his best friend and his old crush together? It was the way you were dressed up for Mingi that rubbed Yunho the wrong way. Was this a date?

Mingi didn't say anything to Yunho. He quickly looked back down at you, offering a gentle smile. His hand on your lower back moved to your hip, squeezing it reassuringly. "How about I'll give you a call when I get home?" He whispered.

You simply nodded. You weren't sure how to even respond. Mingi kept a smile, an attempt to ease your worries. He murmured a goodnight before kissing your cheek lingeringly. Your fingertips grazed his body as he maneuvered around you to head home.

You turned around, to watch him leave. There was no Yunho. Did you imagine the whole thing? You stood there for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around what happened.

Yunho, on the other hand, was in his apartment. He stood with his back against the closed front door, staring ahead of himself. He too was trying to wrap his mind around what he just witnessed.

November 2023

The sound of a door slamming caused you to jolt. It shook your walls a bit. "What the hell?" You murmured. You heard the sound of another door, maybe the same, opening again, realizing it was coming from next door. Yunho.

"You haven't even told me you love me in the past 5 months that we've been dating," Ara screamed.

You shouldn't be eavesdropping, you know you really shouldn't. However, the events unfolding peaked your interest. With having blocked out Yunho pretty much from your life, you had no updates on the relationship or anything about him.

"Maybe because I don't! Have you ever thought about that? That maybe I've been trying to find ways to love you or get myself to love you but I can't be in love with you?!"

Your jaw fell open. Not the update you were expecting.

"This is because of y/n, isn't it?" Ara voice spoke, but you could tell it was shaky. She was scared of knowing the truth, and secretly, you were too. "Honestly? Yeah." "She's with Mingi now. You're with me, Yunho. Get over her." "I can't. I don't think I ever will because if I can't date you and forget about her, how can I date anyone?"

Before you know it, you heard the sound of the door slamming. This time, you recognized it to be the front door to Yunho's apartment. You were staring up at your ceiling.

Well, this makes things complicated again.

New Years Day - December 31, 2023

Mingi was hosting a New Years Eve party at his place. You were invited, seeing as you and Mingi had rekindled your friendship.

The two of you went on several dates before releasing that there were no feelings between the two of you. You cared deeply for one another, but were more like siblings than anything else. The attention he was giving you on those dates is something that you'll never forget. You were grateful for him helping you get back and your feet. And he was grateful that you passed along his number to your best friend.

"Hey, I'm going to go find Mingi," your best friend announced as you entered the party. "Trying to ensure you'll get your New Years Eve kiss from your new boyfriend?" You teased. She rolled her eyes playfully before giggling. She couldn't even deny herself as she nodded her head, confirming your suspicions. "Are you going to be okay if I go over for a little bit? I know he might show up.."

He. Yunho. Since you overheard their argument last month, you two haven't spoken. He hasn't texted you to meet up, but to be fair, you also haven't texted him. You weren't sure what to make out of the whole situation. While you think you want Yunho back, you remember the pain he caused.

You weren't even sure if him and Ara actually called it quits! The fight sounded ugly. And you knew if you heard those words from your significant other, you would have walked out as well. Yet, people constantly get back together even after the worst of storms. Looking at your best friend, you smiled reassuringly and nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm going to be okay. Just be quick? He can have you at midnight but you're still my date for the evening," you teased.

She laughed and nodded, thanking you and giving you a quick hug before rushing to locate Mingi. You shook your head playfully before going over towards the kitchen island. If there was a chance you were going to encounter Yunho, might as well boost your confidence. Seeing a bottle of white wine, you smiled. Mingi remembered. Bonus points for being a screw top.

"So you switched from red wine to white?"

It was almost as if the universe needed a laugh, a way to really close out your 2023. Setting the bottle down, you turned on your heels to see Yunho behind you. He smiled sheepishly, that smile that made you weak in the knees. For a while, you wanted to slap him for what he had done to you. But even after all this time, you wanted to melt in front of him.

Glancing at the bottle, you shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to try something new."

He was attractive as ever. It wasn't fair that after all this time, he could look at you with that soft gaze and you crumble. You wanted to make him jealous, make him regret not taking a chance on you. However, you were ready to gravel if given the chance.

His eyes remained on you. To him, you radiated brighter than before. It was as if you were made out of stars. You captivated everyone's attention with ease, but he wanted you all to himself. He wanted to make things more concrete, never making you doubt or worry again.

"So um," he said. "Ara and I broke up."

You frowned getting confirm of the news. Of course, this worked out in your benefit, but you still didn't like to hear the news. Any sort of heartache is tough.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Yunho. How have you been holding up?" "A lot better than you'd think," he chuckled. "How are things between you and Mingi? Are you guys dating officially now or?"

Your eyes widened slightly. That's right. Last time he saw you, you were about to kiss his best friend after a spontaneous date. You were a bit surprised to hear that Mingi hadn't mentioned anything to him. All you did was motion over to your left side, where Mingi and your best friend were giggling and kissing each other.

Yunho's jaw dropped. You could see his fists clenched but you quickly reached out to rest your hand on his bicep. He relaxed under your touch, gaze softening. He watched them for a moment before it clicked for him that you were touching him. His cheeks reddened, glancing at you before looking down at his feet. "We never got started. I think we were both going on dates because we were missing something," you explained. "Missing something like what?"

He looked at you surprisingly. Yunho's friends always said he was like a golden retriever, but you've never seen it until now. He looked at you like you were holding the golden key to the treasure chest. Literally, you could provide him with the entrance into your world one and for all.

"Missing you," you confessed. "Oh really? How should we fix that?" "Hey, you two, midnight is still 15 minutes away!"

Smack.

The sound of laughter filled the room as eyes went from you and Yunho to Mingi, who just got smacked upside the head by your best friend. It became painfully apparent where you two were. You were standing by all the alcohol at the party, a high traffic area.

"Wanna get out of here?"

You nodded your head, smiling at Yunho. He smiled back at you before grabbing the red wine, the bottle you genuinely liked. To assist, you grabbed two red solo cups. Mingi couldn't trust anyone or himself with glass. With Yunho's free hand, he grabbed your hand and began leading you out of Mingi's unit to the door to the rooftop.

"After you," Yunho gestured, as he pushed open the door with his shoulder.

You smiled appreciatively as you stepped out onto the ledge. A shiver, both from the chilly air of late December to the excitement of New Year's Day. It was always your favorite time of year. Your eyes moved around as you took in the sights of the city from this vantage point.

Yunho made sure you got to the rooftop safely. Setting down the wine bottle for a second, he grabbed one of the bricks to prop the door slightly, not wanting to get the two of you locked out. But boy, would it create a memory for the two of you. Picking up the bottle again, he rejoined you. "This is absolutely beautiful," you stated.

Watching you, he smiled. You wore a smile on your lips as your eyes, he swore, literally sparkled. He wasn't sure if it was from the decorative lights around the city or your pure excitement, but he liked to believe that he had something to do with it. The wind pushed your hair around, revealing your face. "Yeah, the best view," he whispered.

Slowly, he walked up to you. Noticing you were still holding the two solo cups, he took them for you. You watched, thinking he was going to pour a glass for you for midnight as a cheers.

Instead, he stacked the two cups before putting them down on the top of the wine bottle. Maybe he wanted to open the bottle right up at midnight?

Still full of surprises, Yunho took both of your hands in his instead. His thumbs ran over your knuckles. He took a step close to you, closing in on the space that divided you two.

"I think we've spent too much time apart, don't you think, angel?" That nickname. It stirred mixed emotions from you. The last time you heard that nickname, he was smashing your heart into a million pieces that you didn't think could be put back together. Yet, hearing him call you that was like hearing your favorite song from your childhood. He was the only one that called you that. He was the only one who will ever call you that. "I know I fucked up this year. I fucked up so bad," he began. "And I know we have a long road ahead where you could let me into your life again. I don't want to just be the boy next door anymore. I want to be yours. I want to show you that I can take care of your heart, your wellbeing like I should've done this entire time."

No way this was actually happening.

From instead the apartment and around the neighborhood outside, you heard people begin to count down.

10

9

"I can't go back in time and erase what I did."

8

7

"Y/n, I will do whatever it takes to win your trust back. We can take things are you pace," he vowed

6

5

All you could do was smile at Yunho. He was trying to get all the words out that he could. You could see the panic in his eyes that he might end up saying the wrong thing. He was too adorable

4

3

You took a step into him, dropping your hands so they were at your sides. Still holding his hand. Your fingers slipped in between his, which cut him off from speak. Your heart was racing as you gazed up into his eyes. Both of our faces moving towards each other.

2

You decided to step up on your tiptoes. He smirked lightly, always loving how much shorter you were than him.

1

A chorus of "Happy New Year!" echoed from inside the house. You could hear it from other people who gathered on their rooftops and from the street below. Fireworks went off around you, signaling the start of 2024.

"Happy New Year, Yunho," you whispered. Without wasting anymore time, you tilted your head up to fully press your lips against his. His hands left yours to hold onto your hips, keeping you stable. You weren't the type of person from traditions, but this was one you couldn't pass by.

You always learned from your past and took those life lessons into the new year. And it seemed like Yunho was ready to do the same.

He squeezed your hips affectionately, smiling against your lips. You couldn't fight off the smile on your lips as well. His lips chased after yours slowly, wanting to savor this moment but also to show you through his actions that his words carried weight with them. He wanted you to know everything was genuine.

2024 was a new year, a new chapter for you and Jeong Yunho.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Movin’ On Up

Plot: Y/n receives some surprise visitors on moving day, and Richmond suffers a shocking blow to their lineup.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: I really don’t know how I’m managing to crank these out so fast. Maybe shorter chapters? Anyway, this one was fun. We’re getting into the meat of the story, so hold onto your butts, and enjoy!!

(Forgive any typos, I wrote the bulk of this one at midnight 🌙)

——————

If there was a magical force at play in Richmond, it had made Y/n its latest target.

Not only had she found the perfect apartment, she’d toured it, signed the lease and booked movers in the same week. In all her post-university years, she’d never seen real estate move quicker.

Y/n wandered the flat, directing the men and whatever piece of furniture they were holding to its corresponding room.

A knock sounded from the stairs.

“Oh, the dresser can go to-“ Y/n spun around to help guide the mover she’d just seen downstairs, only to find the last person she expected.

“Hey, there, neighbor,” Ted greeted, standing at the top of the steps.

Y/n quickly plastered on her Monday-Friday grin, “Ted. What are you…how did you…?”

“Well, you said you were movin’ into your new place this weekend,” Ted hopped a step inside the apartment to let one of the movers pass by, “Took a guess that the van that came through this morning was probably yours.”

Y/n tried to laugh off the intrusion. The safety of living thirty minutes away was long gone…

“Brought you a little ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift,” Ted held up a little pink box and set it on Y/n’s kitchen counter. It was the same one that he dropped on Rebecca’s desk each morning.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied while pointing one of the movers in the direction of her bedroom.

Ted stuck his hands in his pockets and took a look around the living room. He let out a whistle, “I wish you’d’ve told us you were movin’ in sooner. Coaches and the boys coulda saved you some money, get you settled ourselves.”

That was exactly why she hadn’t told anyone she was moving until the day before. She knew Ted would have assembled the Greyhounds and she would have had 15+ footballers funneling in and out of her apartment, invading the little bubble she had left.

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna inconvenience you guys,” Y/n replied, watching Ted as he maneuvered around the boxes, “Especially with the match tomorrow.”

Ted made a raspberry, “Pish posh, Oshkosh. Woulda been happy to help. Hey,” Ted swirled a finger toward the ceiling, “This place got A/C?”

Y/n nodded.

“Whew,” Ted exhaled, “I gotta tell you, biggest surprise comin’ over here.”

“You get used to it,” Y/n replied, a deep double meaning to her words.

“What about you? What was the biggest shock for you, movin’ here?”

Y/n thought back to when she was eighteen, fresh out of high school and starting a brand new life in another country. Even if it had only been a few years, it felt like a decade ago.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “Probably the difference in English. Chips versus fries, that sort of thing.”

“Man, I still slip up,” Ted said, “Took me months to get the football lingo down.”

“I still call the pitch a field sometimes,” Y/n admitted, settling on one of her barstools.

“Well, now I don’t feel so bad,” Ted chuckled as he came to sit across from Y/n, “Hey, what’s the thing you miss most from home? Just a little thing, y’know?”

Y/n sighed, thinking about the region-specific foods she couldn’t find in the international section of the market or the channels missing from her television. Truth be told, there wasn’t anything she missed so much it could be considered missing.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s been so long since I’ve been home.”

“When was the last time you went back?” Ted asked.

“Uh…” Y/n traced back the list of holidays, “My sister’s birthday…two years ago?”

Ted whistled once more, “That’s a long time. Bet your folks miss you.”

On cue, Y/n’s muscles tensed. Her smile returned to conceal her discomfort. “My sister visits,” she said, “Every year.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Ted cooed, “For me, it’s gotta be good barbecue. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they do food dang well over here, but I miss a good southern BBQ, y’know?”

“I actually do,” Y/n admitted with a small laugh, “4th of July’s always weird.”

Ted smacked a hand against the counter. “Thank you,” he said loudly, “Last year, we had a game. Felt like Beard and I were betrayin’ our ancestors or somethin’.”

Y/n chuckled, Ted struck her as someone who went all out for Independence Day.

“Hey, truth time,” Ted continued, the humor draining from his face, “Yea or nay on tea?”

Y/n shrugged, “I like it.”

“Dang it,” Ted bobbed his head, “Beard, you…us ex-pats keep droppin’ like flies.”

“It takes some adjusting, I’ll admit that,” Y/n raised a finger, “Not exactly a frappachino.”

“Mm-mm,” Ted shook his head, “I have tried and tried with that tree piss. Warmth ain’t goin’ anywhere north on that one.”

Y/n snorted a little, imagining what that might look like, Ted sipping on earl grey.

One of the movers asked Y/n where she wanted a bookcase and she gave him directions. For once, Ted sensed the moment.

“Well, I’ll get outta your hair,” he held up his hands and hopped off the barstool, “But I’m just down the street so you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger.”

“Good to know,” Y/n watched Ted walk away, “Ted?”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, “Hmm?”

While Ted was still a lot, after all her years spent as the foreigner, it was almost…nice to talk to someone from home. Someone she didn’t need to explain her references to or rearrange her vocabulary for.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, quickly concealing the truth of her gratitude, “For the biscuits.”

“Anytime,” Ted saluted before heading on his way.

Y/n let out a loud sigh once she was sure he was gone. She wandered back over to the counter and opened the pink box, finding the signature biscuits Rebecca raved about. Out of curiosity, she broke off a bite and ate it.

“Shit,” she mumbled, they were better than anything she’d ever found in any of London’s cafés.

Despite his line-crossing, Ted was good-natured. He had a heart of gold and tried to make sure everyone he encountered felt like they had one too. Y/n could call it tolerance or simply learning to deal with him, but deep down, Ted’s efforts were starting to poke and prod a little harder at her walls.

—————————

That evening, after the movers had finished and Y/n had gotten the basics unpacked, she started on the non-essentials. She was stacking dishes when the doorbell rang.

Y/n was perturbed as she descended her stairs, there were exactly three people who had her new address, the absolute minimum. Lisa, who handled payroll at the club, Ted, who’d stumbled upon her apartment by sheer luck, and her sister.

Looking through the peephole, Y/n sighed. She’d forgotten there was a fourth on the list.

Jamie smiled smugly as Y/n opened the door, “You went with mine.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “I didn’t ‘go with yours.’ I was the one who found it, you just deemed it worthy.”

“And I was right,” Jamie stuck his neck out and lifted off his heels.

She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing, but Jamie was completely right. The night of the West Ham match, the two of them had stayed at the Crown and Anchor till Mae kicked them out, pouring over each apartment until they’d eliminated 75% of the stack. The one Y/n had settled on was also the one that Jamie had decided was the best.

Jamie held up a plastic takeaway bag, “Come bearin’ sustenance.”

Not only was Y/n tired, she didn’t want to entertain anybody else from work. But, starving as she was, she was in no position to turn down free food.

“Entry permitted,” she snatched the bag from him, “Barely.”

Jamie took an exaggerated step over the seal and passed Y/n. They’d gotten to know each other better over the last few weeks, Jamie stopping Y/n anytime he saw her to ask about the apartment tours she was taking on the weekends. They’d gotten many laughs out of the stories of Y/n going against Jamie’s advice and visiting the properties that did indeed turn out to be crap.

In another world, they’d almost consider each other friends.

Upstairs, Jamie swung his arms as he took in the living room, “Not bad.”

“‘Not bad?’” Y/n turned around from where she stood in the adjoining kitchen, “You pick this place out and then it’s just ‘not bad?’”

Jamie cackled, spinning on his heel and pointing a finger at Y/n. “That’s an admission.”

Y/n internally cringed, her sharp edge was dulled by exhaustion. She could usually keep up with Jamie. “If you want any of this,” she unpacked the styrofoam container of kebabs, “You’ll stay on my good side.”

“Can’t have any,” Jamie replied, coming to lean on the bar, “Diet, ‘member?”

Y/n shook her head, popping a stray piece of chicken into her mouth. “I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

“You know why,” Jamie crossed his arms on the counter, “Gotta get back to being the best.”

“Yeah, but is being better than Zava worth missing out on things like food and sleep?” Y/n asked. She could appreciate Jamie’s drive, but this dedication seemed overboard.

“It’ll be worth it,” Jamie stated.

Y/n decided to play the asshole, sliding across the kitchen to wave the kebab box under Jamie’s nose. She watched his willpower waver ever so fleetingly.

Jamie glared up at her, “You’re evil.”

Y/n snickered as she went back to her spot, stealing a bite before going back to unpacking. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with Roy?”

“Night before a match, I’m off,” Jamie swung around the bar to the kitchen.

“So shouldn’t you be resting?” Y/n asked as she un-bubble wrapped a stack of plates.

“I will,” Jamie shrugged, bending over to peel the tape off a box.

Y/n glanced over, watching as Jamie began to unpack various glasses. He didn’t offer, he didn’t ask, just went about it as if it were his business. It was slightly intrusive…and also kind.

Jamie Tartt, Y/n had come to learn, was nothing and everything like what she’d thought he’d be. He had more depth than he let onto and he’d shown a side of it by trying to help her find a place. And though she knew the Zava battle was a personal thing for him, she also knew how much Jamie cared about his team. He wanted to be at his best for them just as much as he did for himself.

Unlike Keeley, who announced her efforts to get Y/n to crack at every turn, or Ted, who went overboard, Jamie hadn’t tried to enter into Y/n’s life. He had simply occurred.

“Do you get nervous?” Y/n asked out of pure curiosity, “Before games?”

“Not really. I mean,” Jamie answered, lining up coffee mugs in a cupboard, “Sometimes. Depends.”

Y/n stretched on her toes to put away china she never used, “On?”

“I dunno,” Jamie replied, a particular trigger or two popping up, “Lots of things.”

“So what about tomorrow?” Y/n continued.

Any slip Jamie’s mind had made was caught with quick footing. “Nah,” he said confidently, “Nah, we got that.”

“Well, good,” Y/n exhaled, setting the empty box on the floor, “It’d be nice to get a win. And hey, if it doesn’t work out and you’re forced to retire after this season, I’m sure the reality tv world is still thriving with opportunities.”

Jamie managed to grimace while smiling, “How the fuck did you find out about that?”

“You thought the PR department wouldn’t know about that?” Y/n strode past him to get another box, “I also live in England.”

“You at least vote for me?” Jamie asked, a playful lilt to his tone.

Y/n hoisted another box of kitchenware into her arms and balanced it on her knee. “Yep, you caught me,” she sarcastically grunted, “I have a weakness for crap tv featuring mediocre footballers.”

Jamie set down the mug in his hand with a particular harshness. Mediocre footballer. “Now, hang on-“ he began.

“Less talking, more working,” Y/n cut him off, she stopped to check out the cupboard he was finishing. “That’s also not where they go.”

“What?”

“The mugs,” Y/n gestured to where her coffee maker was, “Disrupts the flow if they’re all the way over there.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, only playful annoyance accompanying. “God forbid we disturb the flow,” he lamented, grabbing a mug in each hand and heading to the correct cabinet.

They unpacked in comfortable silence a minute more before Y/n decided it didn’t matter if Jamie wasn’t nervous about the match. They needed all the encouragement they could get.

“It’ll happen tomorrow,” she said, referring to their recent losses.

Regardless of whether he was hiding any feelings or if they’d pop out the moment he stepped on the pitch, Jamie stopped what he was doing to absorb the kind words. Y/n was a recent addition to his life, certainly an unexpected one, but she felt…safe. Like even if they didn’t know anything about each other past their mutual taste in real estate, he didn’t have to act so much around her.

“Thanks,” he replied, making effort to meet her eyes.

Y/n gave a small smile, “It will.”

—————————

It didn’t.

Over the next month, Richmond’s lack of luck turned to a 7-game losing streak. Some weeks were better than others, but they all ended the same way: with the Greyhounds leaving the pitch with their heads hanging in defeat.

Luckily, Y/n was kept occupied on the eighth week. Jack Danvers was coming into the office for a meeting and Keeley had asked Y/n to be there as well.

“You’re all business-y,” she’d said, “You know way more than I do, plus, Jack really likes you.”

Y/n sat on one side of Jack, with Barbara on the other, as she and Keeley recounted the conversation and clash of opinions they’d had recently.

“I completely understand where Barbara’s coming from,” Keeley said, keeping a kind tone as she turned to her CFO, “But as I was explaining to you, I’m worried that by adding more clients that could mean less attention paid to the wonderful people we already represent.”

“And then,” Barbara chuckled, though she lacked any humor, “I reminded Keeley, as you’ve said so many times, Jack, that if it does get to the point where we feel we’re spreading ourselves thinly, then we’ll hire more people,” she grinned politely at Keeley, “It’s called ‘growth.’”

Y/n and Keeley glanced over at one another fleetingly, the tension was so poorly concealed, it was getting uncomfortable.

“I’m sure you can see that as well, Y/n,” Barbara gestured towards Y/n.

“Actually, Keeley’s absolutely right, in my opinion,” Y/n answered, spotting her boss a smile, “There’s big firms, there’s small firms. Both have their allure, but I think our personability is the biggest thing we have going for us.”

“Oh,” Barbara’s grin grew scarier, “Wonderful, wonderful…”

Jack looked sweetly towards Barbara, “Okay. Let me weight in here.

“Oh, please,” Barbara obliged.

“I agree with Keeley,” Jack finished.

“Oh, that’s great,” Barbara beamed.

“Being a small boutique firm is exactly what sets you apart, like Y/n said,” Jack went on, “You want a restaurant to look successful, you take out half the tables and you have a line out the door. I say, let’s go for it.”

Keeley and Jack shared a smile.

“No, that’s wonderful. Yeah,” Barbara forced out as she rose, “And instead of salaries, we can give away the tables we threw out.”

“Don’t worry, Barbara,” Jack called, “It’ll be great.”

Barbara mumbled some dishonest agreement as she left the room, leaving it open on her way out.

Jack turned to Keeley and Y/n, “Do you ever think sunshine gets jealous of her?”

The women shared a laugh just before a knock at the door revealed Shandy. “Knock, knock.”

“Hi, babe,” Keeley greeted her friend.

“Now that your little cool girls meeting’s done,” Shandy leaned on the empty chair, very visibly unhappy, “Just wanted to share the exciting news that I’ve started an app.”

“Oh,” Keeley replied.

“It’s like Bantr, but it’s better and cooler,” Shandy’s tone was even and icy, “And actually cares about helping people have sex with celebrities.”

Y/n kept her head down, sharing an awkward glance with Jack. This was strictly Keeley’s business to handle.

“What? Shandy-“ Keeley began.

“It’s called ‘Star Fuckr,’” she announced before looking to Jack, “And yeah, we are looking for investors.”

When Jack didn’t offer to write a multi-zero check right then and there, Shandy stood tall, shot daggers at Keeley and strutted her way out of the room.

“I take it she’s still angry about the whole Bantr thing?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Keeley nodded, “Shandy does not have a good relationship with rejection, or her ex, or with her workplace, or most nouns, really.”

“‘You are so passionate, but I have to let you go,” Jack said, pulling Y/n and Keeley’s attention, “‘I’m sorry, but I know someone as brilliant as you will land on their feet.”

Keeley struggled momentarily, “What did I do?”

“No, no, no, no,” Jack reached out across the desk, “Keeley, sorry. That’s what you say when you fire Shandy.”

Y/n and Keeley both exhaled forcefully, laughing after.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Y/n’s hand was pressed to her chest, “I just saw my lease flash before my eyes.”

“It’s called a compliment sandwich,” Jack explained, “You give someone bad news, but to soften the blow, you slap it between two delicious slices of compliments.”

Keeley nodded, “But I can’t fire Shandy. She’ll hate me. And she really thinks she’s killing it.”

“I am sure she does,” Jack exhaled, “The worst people often think they’re the best. My dad calls it ‘talent dysmorphia.’”

Keeley laughed while Y/n stayed silent, knowing what was coming next.

“What do you think?” Keeley turned to her hardest worker, “Do you think it’s the right decision?”

Y/n looked down at her notebook, taking a deep breath to see if it would help the force of what she wanted to say dissipate. Jack was waiting on her too, and she couldn’t lie to her or Keeley.

“I think…” she started slow before shutting her eyes and letting it fly, “Keeley, if you don’t fire her, she will literally run the company into the ground and strut over its mangled corpse.”

When she opened her eyes, Jack and Keeley were leant back an inch or two as if to avoid the splash of her opinion. Before she could try and explain it more eloquently, the two women started laughing.

“No, no,” Jack chuckled, “Don’t hold back.”

Y/n exhaled with a small smile, turning to Keeley, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Keeley reached a hand over and poked the back of Y/n’s, “That’s why you’re my best. You don’t hold back.”

It was ironic, they both knew, considering how withdrawn Y/n kept herself. But with Keeley, it seemed to be a bit of a joke between the two of them.

“You two wanna get some lunch?” Jack asked when the giggles had died down, “My meeting just got pushed.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “Yeah, my stomach started grumbling when you said ‘compliment sandwich.’”

“You guys enjoy,” Y/n rose with them and collected her purse, “I’ve gotta get back to the office.”

“Oh,” Keeley reached back over her desk and handed Y/n a sheet of paper, “Give this to Zava. A couple more people called requesting interviews.”

Y/n glanced over the list she’d originally made, it seemed like the Zava craze still hadn’t died down. In fact, the more Richmond lost, the more people wanted to hear what he had to say. “Are we sure it’s a good idea to do so many interviews on a seven-game streak?”

“That’s the thing,” Keeley grabbed her coat, “The press eat up whatever Zava says. Can’t get enough.”

Quirking an eyebrow in understanding, Y/n tucked the list in her book and tried to imagine the ridiculous headlines that would be tied to Richmond this week.

—————————

Returning to the office after having taken lunch by herself, Y/n rapped two knuckles on the open locker room door. She still knew to wait for the all-clear.

“Everybody decent?”

A chorus of various ‘yeses’ were her key in.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Here’s your interview schedule. The press is really eager this weekend in particular. Let me know if there’s any changes you want to make.”

Zava pressed a hand to his heart and touched Y/n’s arm with the other. “Thank you,” he said softly, before looking to his teammates, “Men.”

Taking hold of both her shoulders, Zava guided Y/n to stand in front of him. “Okay,” Y/n stuttered as she was stood in front of the entire team. Seated in the middle of the room with Isaac, Jamie matched her confused gaze.

“This is what your hearts should be seeking,” Zava began to wax his odd form of poetry, “Brains, talent, warmth-“

Y/n’s brow creased, what the fuck had she walked into?

“Outer beauty will fade,” he continued, “But a smudge like this,” Zava smiled down on Y/n, “It will last forever.”

Zava patted her shoulders once more before throwing his towel over his shoulder and exiting the room. Not only was Y/n left with every Greyhound staring at her, contemplating Zava’s words, but with his schedule still clutched in her hand.

“Can someone make sure he gets this?” Y/n asked, failing to keep her tone even.

“Oh,” Dani raised his hand and climbed over Jamie’s leg to get to Y/n, “I will.”

Y/n willingly handed it off, “Thank you, Dani.” Not caring to spend another second in the room, she turned on her heel and left. She backtracked her steps quickly, “Is a smudge a good or a bad thing?”

Colin scrunched his face up, “It’s not…not…a good thing.”

Pressing a hand to her temple, Y/n decided she didn’t need to know any more about whatever conversation she’d interrupted and left the locker room.

—————————

The Man City match came about like every other one, but the air of anticipation heightened with each week. Would this be the day Richmond finally broke their streak? Or would they take another step towards double digits?

Not more than a second after Y/n had parked in the car lot, her phone rang with a call from Higgins.

“Hi,” she answered, “What’s going on?”

“Are you here yet?” Higgins asked, his tone nervous.

Y/n shut the door to her car, striding towards the back entrance to the stadium. “I just pulled in.”

“Could you pop into the coach’s office?”

“Yeah,” Y/n hung on the syllable suspiciously, turning in the other direction and swinging the door to the office building open. “Be right there.”

Y/n took long steps down the hall, passing by the locker room and heading straight for Ted’s office.

“Hey,” she said as she entered. Coach Beard, Roy and Higgins were standing around the desk clump, huddled together in conversation. Ted was already on the pitch. “What’s wrong?”

Beard kept his hand pressed to his mouth, Roy scowled at the air.

“It seems that Zava hasn’t showed up yet,” Higgins answered, “No one knows where he is.”

Y/n’s lips parted in confusion, “He’s just…not here?”

“Apparently so.”

Setting aside her annoyance, Y/n snapped into work mode and pulled her phone from her coat pocket. “Alright,” she scanned her contacts, “Let me get on the phone with some people. See if I can track him down.”

“He’d better fucking be here,” Roy growled at no one in particular.

Y/n raised her phone to her ear and pointed to Roy and Trent’s office, the former nodding for her to take it. She started at the top of the list of Zava’s personal team he’d given to her, Keeley and Higgins. Why a fecalist needed to be considered an emergency contact, Y/n would never understand, but she’d try whoever she had to…

Except the fecalist hadn’t heard from him.

Or his agent.

Or anyone Y/n dialed.

Defeatedly, and beginning to grow anxious, Y/n rejoined Beard, Roy and Higgins. “No one knows where the fuck he is,” she answered.

“Fuck,” Roy muttered.

“We got three minutes,” Beard shrugged, “What the fuck do we do?”

“Start Colin,” Roy resolved before looking to Y/n, “If you track that prick down, I don’t care, you fucking get on the pitch and tell us.”

Y/n gave a definitive nod, “You got it.”

With not so much a plan as a temporary fix, Roy and Beard left for the locker room while Y/n and Higgins headed for the hall.

“I told everyone to call me if they hear from him,” Y/n reported as they walked.

“What could be so important to make him miss a match?” Higgins pondered as they made their way to the stadium.

“I don’t know, but so long as his wife and kids are breathing and in possession of all their limbs,” Y/n practically growled, the cheering of packed house of Greyhounds growing louder with each step, “I’ll drag him onto the field myself.”

—————————

Rebecca took to the news…as expected.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Y/n sat on one side of her boss, raising two fingers of the hand rubbing at her temple, in agreement.

“So just, no one’s heard from him?” Rebecca asked.

“No one,” Higgins grimaced.

“Well,” Rebecca let her palms fall against her legs, “There goes any chance of a win.”

“Let’s pray otherwise,” Y/n scanned her phone for the fifth time since she’d sat down. It was then that she realized there was a very vocal presence missing. “Where’s Keeley?”

Snapping out of her most likely violent thoughts, Rebecca unlocked her phone and held it up to Y/n. She found a text thread from Keeley including a message that said she’d be missing the game. Below it was a picture of a baby lamb standing on the table of the KJPR conference room, surrounded by its own feces.

Three months ago, Y/n might have had a question or twelve. Now, she simply nodded and sat back in her seat. “So Shandy’s gone,” she mumbled to herself.

The game went as well as the last ones had. Colin, though talented, couldn’t rival Zava’s skill. Jamie’s extra training wasn’t the solution either, and Man City walked away with a 4-0 win against the Greyhounds.

Rebecca retired to her office while Higgins and Y/n headed to touch base with the coaches. Trent met them along the way.

“No one heard from him?” Trent asked Y/n on their way.

“Not a single text or call during the game,” Y/n scrolled her phone as they walked, an Instagram notification popping up, “Shit.”

Higgins looked over, “What?”

Y/n stopped midway to their destination, hitting play on the video.

“Hello, how are you?” Zava spoke, dressed in casual wear, “I’m just - I have to share something with you, my friends. You are not my followers. You are my believers.”

Trent and Higgins came to stand beside Y/n, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“And so it— I have to tell you,” the man paused, “Zava has played his last match. I will now dedicate all of my time and all of my energy to my family and my avocado farm.”

The rest of whatever utter nonsense Zava had to spew, Y/n didn’t listen. She was infuriated, partially because of his actions, and partially because they’d all allowed themselves to think it was ever a good idea to hire him. He’d fed the Greyhounds to the wolves with no regret and it affected all of AFC Richmond.

When the video ended, Trent, Y/n and Higgins shared a hopeless look.

“We’ve got to tell the boys,” Higgins finally spoke, shrugging slightly.

The three of them made their way down the rest of the hall where the locker room door hung open. The scene inside was dismal, each of the men sat on the benches with their heads hung.

“Hey, guys,” Higgins greeted in an attempt to stay positive, “Good effort today.”

“Mr. Higgins,” Colin spoke up from his seat, “Is it true about Zava?”

Y/n cast her gaze downwards, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“I’m afraid so,” Higgins replied.

Dani, cradling a towel to his face, began to weep into the fabric.

“Maybe some tissues for Dani,” Higgins muttered quietly.

“Hey, hey, guys,” Sam stood with his phone in hand, “Zava just posted a video.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/n grumbled under her breath as the Greyhounds circled up. Everyone except Jamie, who remained sat on the floor.

The boys watched the video, clinging to every last word at the start, and walking away with mumbled curses and shakes of the head. Any love or respect they had for their former teammate had been lost within thirty virtual seconds.

Y/n snuck a glance over at Jamie, expecting to see him struggle to keep his joy under wraps. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Even he was in shock.

“Gentlemen,” Ted said as he entered, quickly noticing Y/n’s presence, “And lady. That was a tough one tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That’s all right. We gonna get another crack at ‘em later in the season. Uh-huh,” Ted looked to Beard, “Coach? No practice tomorrow.”

Beard nodded, “That’s right.”

“Okay,” Ted looked back to the team, “Well, I’ll see y’all on Monday.”

While the rest of the team began to talk amongst themselves, Sam looked up confusedly at Ted. “Hey, hey. Hey, Coach,” he called till the manager stopped in his tracks, “What about Zava?”

Ted glanced over at Zava’s multiple lockers, his empty chair.

“He quit the team,” Sam stated, as if it unheard news.

“I mean, technically he retired from the whole sport,” Ted clarified, “Which makes it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soulmates.”

The Greyhounds replied quietly in agreement.

“But look, look, look, look,” Ted redirected their focus back, “I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And you know what? I think it’s a good thing.”

The boys began to argue back in shock.

“Well, I do. Okay, look,” Ted spoke over his players, “Do I wanna win? Heck yeah. But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here. It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

“We could have tried,” a desperate Dani replied.

As the initial surprised faded, Y/n was beginning to match Ted’s opinion. Zava may have taken them for a temporary ride to the top, but this ultimate insult had shown that his heart was next in Richmond.

“Hey, guys. Guys, look,” Ted held up a hand, “We got a good thing going here. All right?” Ted’s eyes fell to his left, meeting Jamie’s, “We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?”

No one dared disturb the silence as the truth washed over each of them, including those who weren’t players.

“Yeah,” Ted said quietly, “All we need to win are the fellas in this room, right now,” he pointed to the men on the benches, “And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

No sooner than when Ted had uttered the last two words did the bright yellow ‘Believe’ sign hanging over his head split itself down the middle. The Greyhounds jumped to their feet and cried out to various degrees. Even Y/n gasped a little, having learned of its significance.

“It’s a sign,” Bumbercatch called out.

“That’s it,” Colin held up his hands, accepting fate, “We’re doomed.”

As the locker room grew louder, Ted held up his hands and attempted to settle things down.

“Now hold on. Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed. But Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree, Yeah.”

Ted turned around and removed both halves of his handiwork, folding them together. “In fact this, it’s just a sign.”

Without any hesitation, Ted tore the paper into four pieces, sending the locker room into chaos again.

“All right, guys, listen to me,” Ted commanded the room, “Belief doesn’t just happen ‘cause you hang something up on a wall. All right? It comes from in here,” he touched his chest, “You know? And up here,” he touched his temple before hitting his stomach, “Down here. Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of times, we end up getting in our own way.”

Y/n had yet to be present for any of Ted’s locker room speeches, as she had no reason to be. But immediately, like some spiritual presence moving through the room, she felt his words take hold of her.

“You know, crap like envy or fear, shame,” Ted continued, seemingly speaking to himself as well, “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. You know what I mean? Do you?”

He wasn’t speaking to her, but the question still penetrated Y/n all the same. She could feel a familiar ball of anxiety beginning to build in her stomach.

“No, me neither,” Ted shook his head after the boys answered back, “Hell no. Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve.”

One blade inserted itself into Y/n’s gut, the omnipresent pain causing her heart rate to speed up.

“Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved,” Ted went on, “Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

A second blade settled in Y/n’s chest, this one causing the muscles to contract. She closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the rising emotions at bay.

“Or what about the belief of hope?” Ted asked, “Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better.”

Better, Y/n thought on the word. Better. Did things ever get better? Or did ‘bad’ just shapeshift into something else? Did it just wait along the road in the shadows, waiting for ‘better’ to come merrily on its way?

“Oh, man,” Ted sighed, “To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. Yo, hey. If you can do that,” he pointed to each player in the room, “If each of your can truly do that-“

Ted made one more rip down the sign’s tatters, walking to the center of the room. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

As the remains of the sign slapped against the metal bench, Y/n’s anxiety reached its brim. She placed a near shaking hand on Higgins’ shoulder to signal she was leaving before slipping out the back door. Blearily, she made it down the hall and outside, the fresh air of the parking lot slamming into her.

Once in the safety of her car, she allowed herself to weep.

Zava was the furthest thing from her mind. The incoming headlines, another loss on the scoreboard…all of it. She couldn’t have cared less if she’d tried. All she could feel was the crippling ache in her chest, the sting of her tears, the overwhelming feeling that came with being utterly alone. When a person became aware of just how much bigger the world around them was and how infinitely small they really were. The pain that could be remedied with a simple hug or a comforting word.

Y/n let out a silent sob, the familiar ache of all she wanted having taken a new form, once again. It would certainly kill her to allow herself her basic needs, to walk back in and hurt with the people inside. And it would break her all the same to continue hiding.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The REAL AI automation threat to workers

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Long before the current wave of AI hype, we were being groomed for automation panics with misleading stories. Remember this one? "'Truck driver' is the most common job in America. Self-driving trucks are just around the corner. How can we prevent America's army of truckers from turning into a howling mob when the robots steal their jobs?"

https://futurism.com/millions-of-jobs-are-at-risk-but-their-loss-could-be-for-the-greater-good

It was absolute nonsense. First of all, "truck driver" isn't a particularly common job in America! The BLS lumps together all cargo vehicle drivers under a single classification. The category error here was thinking that every delivery van driver, furniture mover, and courier is behind the wheel of a big rig, cracking wise on a CB radio as they tear up the interstate.

But what about automation threats? It's possible that if we redesigned the interstates to give 16 wheelers their own separated lanes, and then set them to following one another, that they could traverse long distances in that way. Congratulations, you've just invented a shitty, failure-prone train.

"Shitty train AI" does not threaten the job of the vast number of people the BLS classifies as "truck drivers." For one thing, "shitty train AI" isn't going to pilot a UPS van around the streets of a busy city with other road users. Sure, a few robotaxi companies have bamboozled city governments into conscripting the city's residents into an uncontrolled murderbot experiment. These are not going well:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sanfrancisco/news/9-key-leaders-depart-gms-cruise-amid-ongoing-investigation-into-san-francisco-incident/

More than $100b has been set on fire chasing the robotaxi dream, and the result is most charitably described as a technological curiosity, requiring 1.5 high-waged remote technicians to replace each low-waged driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

But even if we could perfect this technology, robots still wouldn't replace all those "truckers" who drive delivery vans (to say nothing of moving vans!). The hard part of driving a UPS van isn't just getting it from place to place – it's getting the parcel into the place. The robo-van would still need at least one person to get the parcel from the back of the van and into the reception desk, porch, or other delivery zone. It's not going to fire those parcels at your door with a catapult. It's also not going to deliver them by drones. Drone delivery is another one of those historical curiosities, capable of delivering a very narrow range of parcels, under even narrower circumstances:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#droned

If all UPS delivered was lightweight, non-fragile rectangular parcels ordered by people with large, unobstructed back yards, then sure. Congrats, you've just created the world's least-useful parcel delivery service!

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/06/amazon-drone-delivery-service-seeks-faa-approval-to-launch-in-2022/

All that said, the big rig drivers probably don't need to worry about robots stealing their jobs. It's not even clear that "shitty train" is within our technological grasp, but even if it is, there's yet another problem with the AI automation trucker jobpocalypse: "trucker" is already one of the worst jobs in America:

https://www.usatoday.com/pages/interactives/news/rigged-forced-into-debt-worked-past-exhaustion-left-with-nothing/

It's hard to overstate just how fucking terrible it is to be a trucker. Truckers are trapped in abusive debt holes by their employers – who misclassify their workforce as "contractors" in a bid to sidestep labor law. Shriven of any labor rights, truckers are forced into the most ghastly, body-destroying, family-wrcking, financially precarious existence imaginable.

You can drive a truck for years, give almost all of the money you earn back to your employer (who denies that you're their employee) to pay back the usurious loan for your truck. Then, your employer can underschedule for shifts so that you miss a loan payment, and they can repo your truck and keep the six-figure repayment you've already made to them, leaving you destitute.

They can force you to work for hours – days! – without pay while you wait for loading and dispatch. They can make you drive long past the point of safety, then, if (when) you get into a wreck, they can fine you for not taking the mandated rest breaks.

Now, these drivers aren't about to be replaced by AI – but that doesn't mean that AI won't affect their jobs. Commercial drivers are among the most heavily surveilled workers in the country. Amazon's drivers (whom Amazon misclassifies as subcontractors) have their eyeballs monitored by AI;

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

AIs monitor the voices of the (primarily Black, primarily female) workforce at Arise – homeworkers who field customer service calls for blue-chip companies like Carnival Cruises and Disney. They're listening for unruly children or pets in the background, and workers who fail to muffle these dependents lose the contracts they have to pay to train for:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

And AI monitors the conduct of workers on temp-work apps. If a worker is dispatched to a struck workplace and refuses to cross the picket-line, the AI boss fires you and blacklists you from future jobs for refusing to robo-scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Writing in The Guardian, Steven Greenhouse describes the AI-enabled workplace, where precarious, often misclassified workers are monitored, judged, and fined by algorithms:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/jan/07/artificial-intelligence-surveillance-workers

Whether it's the robot that gets you disciplined for sending an email with the word "union" in it or the robot that takes money out of your paycheck if you take a bathroom break, AI has come for the workplace with a vengeance.

Here's a supreme irony: nearly all of the beneficial applications for AI require that AI be used to help workers, not replace them, which is absolutely not how AI is used in the workplace. An AI that helps radiologists by giving them a second opinion might help them find tumors on x-rays, but that's a tool that reduces the number of scans a radiologist processes in a shift, by making them go back and reconsider the scans they've already processed:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

But AI's sales pitch is not "Buy an AI tool and increase your costs while increasing your accuracy." The pitch for AI is "buy and AI and save money by firing workers." Given how bad AIs are at replacing humans, this is a bad deal all around, both for the worker who loses their job and the customer who gets the substandard product the AI makes.

There is a very limited slice of applications where an AI could make a lot of money for a company that deploys it, without costing that company anything when the AI screws up. For example, AI is a really good tool for fraud! Rather than paying people to churn out millions of variations on a phishing email, you can get an AI to do it. If the AI writes a bad phishing email, it's OK, since nearly all recipients of even good phishing emails delete them. What's more, no one will fine you or publish an op-ed demanding that your board of directors fire you if you buy an incompetent AI to commit fraud. Fraud is a high-value, low-consequence environment for using AI.

Another one of those applications is managing precarious workers who don't have labor rights. If the AI unfairly docks your worker's wages, or forces them to work until they injure themselves or others, or decides that their eyeball movements justify firing them, those workers have no recourse. That's the whole point of pretending that your employees are contractors: so you can violate labor law with impunity!

But that's not the ironic part. The ironic part is that "being a shitty boss" is the one AI application that companies are willing to increase their net spending on. No one buys an eyeball-monitoring AI so they can fire a manager. This is the one place where AI is there to augment, rather than replace, an employee.

This makes AI-based bossware subtly different from other forms of Taylorism, the "scientific management" fad of the early 20th century that saw management consultants choreographing the postures and movements of workers to satisfy the aesthetic fetishes of their employers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

The pseudoscientific cod-ergonomics of the 1900s was demeaning and even dangerous, but it wasn't automated, and if it increased worker output, this was incidental to the real purpose of making workers move like the machine-cogs their bosses reassured themselves they were:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Every AI panic is a way of deflecting attention from the real, grimy, here-and-now ways that AI is destroying our lives by demanding that we entertain nonsensical science fiction claims about large, shiny existential risks that AI might present in the future.

The "X-risk" of the spicy autocomplete chatbot waking up and using its newfound sentience to turn us all into paperclips is nonsense. Adding words to the plausible sentence generator doesn't turn it into a superintelligence for the same reason that selectively breeding faster horses doesn't lead to locomotives:

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

But there is a way that AI could destroy the human race! The carbon footprint and water consumption associated with training and operating large-scale models are significant contributors to the climate emergency, which threatens the habitability of the only planet in the known universe capable of sustaining human life:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/federicoguerrini/2023/04/14/ais-unsustainable-water-use-how-tech-giants-contribute-to-global-water-shortages/

Likewise, AI isn't going to replace you at work. But it's already augmenting your shitty boss's ability to rip you off, torment you, maim you and even kill you in order to eke out a few more basis points for the next shareholder report.

Science fiction is a fun and useful way to tell parables about our current technologies. But it's not a roadmap for the future. The fact that sf writers like me found AIs as useful measures to describe Earth's dominant artificial life form – the limited liability corporation – doesn't mean that superhuman AIs should – or can – be created.

Back the Kickstarter for the DRM-free audiobook of The Bezzle, read by Tumblr's own @wilwheaton!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 9

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Lots of mystery related content this chapter, so no warnings in order to guard against spoilers! Summary: As the weeks progress, the investigation into King Miguel's death is stalling out. Until an unexpected conversation renews your suspicions about a particular member of court. Notes: We're winding down toward the end of this story, folx and thank you all so, so much for reading! It will probably be one more chapter and an epilogue -- so for now have a gif of Lucas and Javi for ✨atmosphere✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

In the weeks following, the palace falls into a rhythm. The ongoing investigation is the dark cloud that covers the planning of the royal wedding and coronation, but life goes on. You've accompanied Javi on multiple public outings as Crowned Princess now and the press coverage does seem to be reasonably positive. Maisie and Gabriela have made a few gossip headlines along with you, including one tabloid photo of the three of you visiting a recently opened café owned by two young women in downtown Palma. The photo op had been chosen very strategically by your brother working together with the palace's security team, and you had insisted that the business they selected for the three of you to patronize needed to meet certain standards. The small shop had served you one of the most fantastic lunches you had ever had, and you were sure to tell the women so. The photo of you savoring your crema catalana had gone up on your official royal Instagram account that night.

You're settling in, is really what it comes down to, and at Javi's encouragement you've decided to clean up a room in the palace that hasn't been used much in the last few decades to turn into your receiving room. The Queen's office is one thing. That's a separate space in the working wing of the house, and your brother's office is adjacent to it. But a room for you to receive guests in or have meetings in...it's something that the palace hasn't needed since Javi's mother passed away.

“Your Highness, the furniture movers have arrived.” Despite having an abundance of nicknames for you growing up, and being your brother, Sebastian insisted on making sure that during working hours he addresses you by your title rather than any nickname. Wanting there to be no slip ups in protocol, or for visiting dignitaries to believe that they could also address the future Queen so informally.

“Thank you, Sebastian.” The room had been emptied of its former furniture set and divested of its previous rugs and trinkets. The fireplace had been scrubbed and all of that. Curtains taken away to be replaced with the set that you had chosen. Now the team from the palace steward’s office will be bringing in that expansive set of blue velvet upholstered walnut wood pieces, with their silver accents and silver-embroidered curtains to match. It will be your space and yours alone, just the way you like it. Even the paintings that are going up for decor were your choice, and the collection of Spanish impressionists that will hang on the walls is stunning.

"Of course." He smiles slightly and nods his head in deference to your position. "They have also located a rug for the space, I have told them to bring that first for your approval." The storage for the palace holds all of the furnishing through the years.

Just as he defers to your title during working hours, you’ve kept yourself to using his full name during those times as well, not wanting any rumours to build around why you hired your brother for this position — or even fuel the incredibly stupid theory that went around at first that he isn’t your brother at all. Some tabloid had printed that they thought he was your secret lover but thankfully that had gone nowhere with the people. You look far too much alike for anyone to not realize you’re related. “Do we know when Maisie and Gabriela are due back from their appointments?” Your ladies had gone into Palma for something that you hadn’t quite caught the explanation for but you’re hoping they will be back before dinner. The two women really have become you close friends in almost no time at all. And you’ve noticed a little bit of flustering on your brother’s part around Gabriela that is very sweet.

Sebastian looks down at the tablet in his hands and checks the calendar. Any appointments your ladies in waiting have are also kept by him so he can inform you. "They will be returning to the palace in thirty minutes."

“You are a font of useful information.” And you’re so incredibly glad that he’s here. Having someone nearby who just knows you as a person — what makes you tick and what makes you anxious — on staff is so helpful.

He smirks and holds up the tablet. "You just like me for my schedule." He teases playfully.

“Honestly?” You waggle your eyebrows at him, aware that until the movers from the steward’s office come into the room, the only people who will see or hear this interaction are the security officers watching the cameras that have been discreetly installed around the room. “I’m starting to see why so Dad was mad that I stole you away.”

"You understand and appreciate my work." Sebastian smirks, preening slightly. "Dad's new assistant isn't completely incompetent, but apparently he's not me and that infuriates the old man."

“C’est la vie, I guess. That’s why you should always appreciate the people who make your life easier.” As if on cue, a set of four workers from the steward’s office appear. They’re toting an enormous rug with them and look a little apprehensive.

“Y-Your highness?” The first man holding the rug bows his head. “This was – for your approval? If you do not approve, we will carry it back to the storage.”

“I’m sure you’ve made a wonderful choice.” And considering you know next to nothing about rugs, you’re willing to bet that they made a decision far more educated than yours would be. “Will you let it out, please? I’m very excited to see your choice.”

There’s a grateful smile on the third man and they begin to quickly unroll the rug. “It, uh, the blues and silvers in the rug could work with the furniture.” The first man explains.

"Then it will be perfect." You and Sebastian step back to give the men room, and soon enough the enormous Turkish carpet is rolled out to reveal its intricate patterns and subtle colors. It's exactly the right thing to bring warmth to a room that was once stark whites and ladylike pinks and pale greens, and you smile gratefully. Your color palette is slightly more robust than the last queen's, but there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, this piece will be what ties the room together. "Que maravillosa," you hum, seeing it all laid out. "Gentlemen, you have made the perfect selection. I could not have done better myself."

The pride that filters out from the men's faces would make Sebastian think that you had just knighted them. He hides a small smile and nods, stepping forward. "I think that it is safe to say that the Queen will keep the rug that you have chosen with her upmost gratitude." He tells him.

“We will return shortly with the first truck of furniture.” The seeming leader of the group tells you, bowing his head politely before he herds the others out to the hallway. They have two large, motorized hand trucks to bring down the king palace hallway and then they will arrange the pieces to their princess’ satisfaction.

"They chose well." Sebastain comments as he examines the plush rug. "Almost as if they were eager to please the crowned princess or something." He has felt the love the palace staff have started to extend to you, finding less pushback on his requests than he had once expected.

“I’m grateful it hasn’t been difficult,” you admit, smiling softly as your engagement ring winks in the late morning sun. “Javi is already having a hard enough time with the investigation still ongoing. I can’t imagine if he was fighting pushback in the press, too.”

"They still have found nothing substantial, and the King is growing impatient." He nods. glancing around to make sure no one else has come into the morning room.

“Remarkably, the investigation seems to conclude that it may have been accidental.” You keep your voice low as well. “But I still find that conclusion…unsettling.”

"As do I." Your brother hums, even if he agrees quietly.

The men from the steward’s office stay with you for the better part of an hour. It turns out that moving the furniture about takes seemingly no effort at all when it’s done by four men who could probably bench press you, and soon the seams of 1920s artisan-made study furniture is set precisely around the room in the perfect way to make it look nonchalant yet elegant. You didn’t even know furniture could look nonchalant, but now there is an art deco chaise lounge in your morning room ready to prove you wrong.

"Should I have tea and a light snack brough in?" Sebastain asks, knowing that you would want to settle into the room, get a feel for her. "I have some paperwork that needs attending, and you have nothing on your schedule until after lunch."

“Bring me everything you need me to sign,” you sigh dramatically in resignation but flash your brother a grin. “And if you could ask the kitchen for a tea tray, I would be eternally grateful.” In the last few weeks, the palace chef has gotten the contents of your personal tea tray down to a science, and you swore up and down to Javi that night that this is true luxury. Having your favourite snacks on hand at all times is what it’s all about.

"As you wish, your highness." Sebastian bows gracefully and sends you a small wink before sailing out of the room.

The room is better than you had envisioned it would be. The paintings are light and bright and bring a sense of invitation to the art deco furniture. It's a mix of styles so it doesn't feel too stuffy, making the room feel a little bit more personable. You sit down at the writing desk by the fireplace, admiring the elaborate carvings and the personalized touches. The men from the steward's office had also come in with a case of your personal stationary and a set of the pens that had been ordered with the emblem of the Crowned Princess of Mallorca on them. It had all been very overwhelming at first, but you're starting to settle in to it. One sheet of stationery and one of the pens find their way out of their cubbies in and into your hands, deciding that you'll write a note to be delivered to Javi as he goes about his work during the way. Your little notes make him smile, and if even a moment of smiling eases some of his burden, then they are well worth the few minutes they take to write.

He watches you from the shadow, frowning and furious. About to step out and speak when the silly little maid arrives with a tea cart. Making him curl his lip in disgust. You would have everyone believe you were an English queen with your teas and little treats.

You thank the girl and smile when she curtsies, knowing that being on your best manners with the palace staff is everything. The tea tray is laden with a mix of things and you sip your cup with a happy sigh. Until Sebastian comes back with your paperwork, it's just you and your tea and your love note to Javi.

"Well, aren't you just settling in nicely?" The voice comes from the far exit, carrying across the room. "Already changing things, causing disruptions."

If his voice causes a slight twitch in one eye, it isn't your fault. It's just that Lucas has been a needle in your side since the day you met him and there is nothing you can really do about it except be overly kind to the point of making him uncomfortable. "Lucas." You turn your head, setting down your teacup and folding your hands in your lap to offer him the most witheringly perfunctory smile you can manage. "Or shall I start to call you cousin? After all it won't be much longer before the wedding."

“Yes…the wedding.” He walks into the room as if he owns it, sniffing as he looks around the room. “Very…quaint.” He decides. “How fitting.”

"Is there some reason you have sought me out this morning?" He has a tendency to try to bait you into debates or arguments with polite insults, but you are in far too good of a mood today to be bent out of shape by petty words. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

“No.” He scoffs the word, almost close to a chuckle as he strolls around the room. Taking pains to touch different things, adjusting them to his own liking. “I have to admit that I’m surprised you are still here.” He glances up at you and then down the small Tiffany music box on a table. His finger running over the gilded lid. “Perhaps the prize is too large to let go?”

“Whatever gave you the impression that I might leave?” There hasn’t really been a serious moment since meeting Javi where you’ve considered it. Is the job difficult? Of course. But Javi makes every single second worth it. And you would never disappoint him by leaving — or so coarsely abandon the man you love.

“The king is dead.” He shrugs slightly. “Unless an arranged marriage is something you actually wished for.”

“King Miguel is dead; may he rest in peace. But King Javier is very much alive and well.” His refusal to accept that his cousin has ascended the throne is something of a curiosity to you. Like there is a full block in his mind that prevents him from accepting it. “And happily I will tell you, as well as anyone else who wishes to hear, how very much in love with my fiancé I truly am.”

“Come now.” He tuts and sends you a pitying look. “No one would be in love with Javier. Expect perhaps my wife.”

“I think it would be more difficult to find someone not at least a little in love with him.” A pinched, derisive smile makes you tilt your head. “The only exception seems to be you, cousin.”

“I have known Javier my entire life, believe me, there is nothing special about him.” Lucas sneers.

"I'm very sorry that you believe that," you reply placidly. Lucas truly has a talent for getting under your skin — and it's really all to do with his attitude toward Javi. He seems to think his cousin is the least remarkable man in the world, which is a thought process that you just can't wrap your head around. Javi's goodness is what will make him a kind and sympathetic leader. "Javi's ability to be kind in the face of an unkind world is one of the most special things I have ever witnessed in a human being. It seems to me that you might not know your cousin as well as you think after all. But that is merely an observation."

There’s a mean little grin on his face, making the classically handsome exterior appear almost rotten because of the evilness inside. “I think you might actually believe that load of horse shit.”

He truly seems to have come to see you just to be cruel today, which is rare, but it isn’t the first time. Lucas taunts and intimidates and spits venom as his surest means of communication. It is who he is. But he is also exceptionally talented at hiding his true nature, which leads to unfortunate circumstances like the group of loyal followers he still has here at the palace. Allowing yourself one more sip from your teacup, you set it down again and give him your patented Senator’s-Daughter placid smile. “Is there something that you needed, Lucas?”

“I was wondering if you had heard anything about the investigation?” He picks up a book that has been strategically placed and smirks as he opens it, glancing up and you and snapping it closed loudly.

"I am not at liberty to discuss the investigation," you remind him, interested in what he might have to say about it. Lucas has been relentlessly present during the investigation.

He rolls his eyes and snorts. “There’s no one here.” He huffs and lifts a brow. “I’ve heard your investigators have been probing, asking very pointed questions.”

“Well of course they are, a king has died.” You don’t say that he was killed, always very careful about your wording with Lucas — but something about his wording strikes you a moment later. ‘There’s no one here’ he says, blatantly encouraging you to speak liberally with him. As though you are entirely in private. Lucas…does not seem to know that your morning room has already been wired for security. “Of course…” you venture, keeping your breathing even and your voice steady so he doesn’t sense any change in your whatsoever even though your heart rate is now racing. “We will all be very glad when the matter is resolved. The country deserves to heal. To move forward.”

“It will, with a new king.” He is very certain of that and straightens slightly. “I understand the pressures of the throne might be too much for my cousin. He has always been a follower. Meek.”

Not so long ago, insulting the king so overtly would have been enough to have Lucas censured or even stripped of his title, but you bite your tongue on that point and simply tilt your head. "Do you really think so little of your own flesh and blood?"

“It is more that I know my own flesh and blood.” Lucas chuckles. “He is not the brightest Gutierrez, unable to figure out what is right under his nose.”

It's like Lucas wants to keep talking. Now that the topic has been breached and you are not shutting him down immediately as you usually do, he seems to be as unstoppable as the enormous boulder that chased Indiana Jones. "King Miguel believed in his son. He named Javi his heir and paved the way for him to take the throne. You think you know things about Javier that his own father did not?"

He smirks and shrugs slightly. “Miguel had to have faith in his son.”

"Had to?" That piques your interest, and you fold your hands in your lap even as you turn toward him a little more fully. There is a camera and microphone built into the clock above the mantel of the fireplace and you want to make sure this entire conversation is very firmly in the line of sight and sound. Though you doubt Lucas would ever overtly incriminate himself, he is being fairly damning if anyone ever called his loyalties into question. "King Miguel could easily have named another heir if he felt it was the best course of action."

“That would never have happened.” He hisses, face twisting into an angry scowl. His fist tightening in fury.

It might be the first time you've ever wanted to reel back from one of Lucas's outbursts, but you hold yourself steady in your chair and try not to make it obvious that you've just swallowed hard out of discomfort. "Never? Then King Miguel must have believed in Javi quite a lot."

“Not because he believed in him.” Lucas sneers. “But because the old bastard wouldn’t stand the shame, the humiliation of having such a weakling for a son.”

There will be time to take umbrage with Lucas's characterization of Javi later on. Right now, you have to stay laser focused on what is being spit out right in front of you. It is absolutely no secret between you and your fiancé that you both believe Lucas had something to do with King Miguel's death. But you still have no idea how to prove it. "And so...you believe that the late king would rather...gamble with the future of his country? Surely he would have wanted Javier to have help if he thought it was necessary."

“He had changed it.” Lucas growls, the fervor in his eyes nearly manic. “I saw. He had changed his directives – but the bastard guarding him refused to let me read it.” He curls his lip in disdain. “More of a lap dog than an assistant.”

"You think that Julius had something to do with the king's death?" That would be a grave accusation if it were true. Or, hell, it's a grave accusation anyway. Thankfully it will never be given any credence because of how hard Julius has worked for Javier.

Lucas barks out a rough laugh, throwing his head back. “You are made for my cousin!” He chortles. “Just as dim witted.”

You have no choice but to swallow the insult, finding your heart beat faster every second you are more and more hellbent on getting himself to cough up something that you can have to the investigators that will incriminate him. "It seems obvious that my mind does not work the same way yours does."

He chuckles, sending you a pitying look. “It’s a shame that you are so wrapped around my cousin’s thumb.” He tells you, “it would be fun to take another of his toys away from him. He’s already lost so much to me.”

"He already has the throne, Lucas." Not dignifying that idle threat with a response is causing you actual physical pain but sitting in your chair is currently taking enormous concentration. Anywhere else in the world and you would rather be wringing Lucas's slimy little neck. "Everything else is a trifle."

“Does he?” Lucas tilts his head and smiles. “Perhaps. Long live the king.” He intones sinisterly.

The irrevocable shiver that his tone sends down your spine is withering, and for a second you almost close your eyes against it but you are somehow convinced that taking your eyes off of him physically for even a second would be a terrible mistake. "He does," you state again, watching Lucas carefully. "And our child will have it after him. That is how the line of succession works. I know that you know this."

“Unless my dear cousin suffers the same fate as his father.” Lucas counters, waving his hand as if offering a solution. “Before you make that child.”

"How do you know we haven't already?" The surety in his voice is chilling, but you have to keep your own tone even.

“Because any child before your vows would be a bastard.” He hums. “Ineligible for the throne. Then the line of succession falls to…” he perks up and feigns excitement. “Well, me.”

"That is only true up to a point," you challenge, pressing the point if only gently. "Javi will not be dying of a heart attack anytime soon."

Lucas only stares at you, his dark eyes lifeless as he stands there quietly for nearly thirty seconds. “Of course not.” He says after that silence is up, his body relaxing and his face shifting into an innocent expression.

It might be the most unsettling and least reassuring ‘reassurance’ of all time, and the sinking feeling in your chest and stomach makes you feel positively sick. “In time,” you swallow bile as it rises in your throat. “You’ll see. Javi’s goodness is what will make him a great king.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs as if the past few minutes of conversation hadn’t happened, and he shoots you a charming smile. Or it would have been if there wasn’t malice layered under it. “I will leave you to enjoy your new room then. Princess.”

“Good morning, your Grace.” You don’t stand, nod, or give him any other formal acknowledgement, but you definitely breathe easier when he turns and strides from the room. It’s like being in the same space as a cartoon villain, and you’ve found out that that is much more disturbing than you ever imagined.

“Your highness?” The maid who had been sent to check on your tea hurries into the room and her eyes are glancing around worriedly. She had seen the man most of the staff loved but she loathed walk out with a dark look on his face, one she is well acquainted with, and was concerned.

“Ah, Beatriz.” There is no choice but to shake off your unsettled nerves and pretend everything is fine, even though the sinking feeling in your stomach is sinking that much harder. “What can I do for you?”

“Are you—” she bites her tongue, knowing the question is inappropriate for the Princess. “I am checking to make sure you did not need anything, your highness.”

“I suspect that is not the only question you wish to ask me, Beatriz.” There are some members of the staff who have been more or less assigned to you, like your ladies’ maid and a few of the stewards or other staff, and you have generally been trying to get to know them and have them be comfortable with you within the bounds of what is considered proper. Probably being American fosters some of that in your mind all on its own, but you don’t like the idea of anyone being frightened to come near you in the palace.

“I— the count—” she starts before she stops again. “I saw the count hurry by me looking very unhappy.”

“I’m afraid the count is feeling a bit worse for wear today,” you lie, gracefully not indicating whether you mean he’s in a bad mood or that he’s actually ill. “I’m sure it will pass.”

“He- you are feeling well?” She asks, eyes searching you worriedly.

“I am perfectly fine.” The last thing you or Javi need is anyone on the palace staff spreading word that you might be ill, so you dispel the maid’s fear immediately. “And my tea is wonderful. Thank you for checking. If you would not mind waiting a moment, I am just finishing a note that I would like delivered to the king.”

“Of course, your highness.” She bows her head quickly. It was expected that you would never take her into your confidence, but it’s enough to find that you are…undisturbed. She breathes a quiet sigh of relief as she waits for you to finish writing your missive.

What was once a love note full of encouragement to your fiancé has quickly transformed into a gently coded indication that you have something you need to talk to him about privately. As soon as it is written out you fold the card and slip it into an envelope, sealing it with a small sticker bearing the royal seal of the Crowned Princess. "Please deliver this directly to the king," you instruct her, handing the maid the sealed card. "From my hands, to yours, to his. Is that understood?"

“Yes, your highness.” She nods solemnly, feeling very proud of being tasked with something of such importance. “For the king only.”

"Gracias, Beatriz." She curtsies and you nod, turning back to your desk as she hurries from the room. It's not exactly that you have evidence against Lucas, but at least now you have something solid to hand to the investigators to prove Lucas has a vendetta against Javier. There hasn't been anything besides hearsay until now.

Hurrying through the halls, Beatriz nods at different personnel but doesn’t stop. Not allowing herself to be waylaid on her mission. Once in front of the door to the king’s office, she stops and smooths her uniform out before knocking.

The door to the king’s office opens with a distinct click, and Julius steps out into the hallway. “Sí?” He knows Beatriz, of course, and knows that she tends to you, but does not know why the maid has come here of all places.

“I have a message for the king from her highness.” Beatriz tells him, shaking her head when he holds out his hand for the message. “The Princess said from my hand to King Javier’s.” She insists.

“I see.” Julius purses his lips in amusement. Normally when the king receives a note of that nature it results in copious blushing and clearing his throat. “Very well. You had best deliver it, then.”

It’s an honor to be allowed into the king’s office and she’s well aware of it. Bowing her head, she waits for him to open the door and follows him inside.

“Your Majesty.” Julius hums softly, breaking the king’s concentration as he bends over his desk. “A note from Her Highness.”

“Oh?” His head pops up and his brow furrows as he sees the maid in front of him.

“To be delivered from her hands to yours.” Beatriz tells him, barely stepping up to his desk and curtsying while she holds out the envelope.

“Thank you…Beatriz.” He finally comes up with the maid’s name, having a flurry of new staff being changed around with your arrival, his father’s death and the upcoming wedding.

The maid curtsies and exits promptly once the envelope is in his hands, blushing over the fact that the king knows her name. Julius, for his part, smiles and nods to the door. “Shall I leave you?” He asks, hoping to offer privacy if it is wanted.

“Please.” Javi nods, barely looking up from the closed note in his eagerness to see what you have written. “Give me just a minute and we will continue.”

With a nod Julius is gone, leaving Javier to his reading.

Mi amor, A very interesting conversation with someone we are both interested by may pique your curiosity. If you would like to relive it for yourself, I will show you this evening. M

Javier frowns at the paper and wonders what the hell has happened today. A mystery would once have thrilled him, but he knows this is concerning one particular person and he feels a sense of dread.

******

His busy schedule keeps him occupied until dinner time, but the now-designated one night a week that you and Javi eat alone is proving to be a blessing. The serving cart is wheeled into your chamber and the table on your balcony set with candles, and you’ve taken off your heels to let your aching feet rest for the night in comfortable slippers when the door to your suite opens to let him inside.

Javier feels the mantle of responsibility seemingly lift. Even if he could be interrupted by any manner of emergencies, the idea that for tonight, he’s just your fiancé is a comforting one. The guise of not being responsible for a country needed as he has worried about your note for the rest of the day after receiving it. “Margarita?”

“Javi!” It would be a lot to pretend you aren’t excited to see him, and why would you pretend that at all? Instead, you pad across the sitting room of your suite eagerly and wrap him up in your arms. “How was your day, querido?”

“It was good, but it is better now.” He accepts the easy affection and snuggles close to you, burying his nose in your neck. “How was yours? Beatriz gave me your note.”

“Lucas paid me a rather interesting visit today.” It’s a shame that your dinner together has to be overshadowed by this but there is no way around it. “In the morning room.”

“You just set that up.” In fact, Javi had been put out that there had been no wiggle room in his busy schedule to allow for a visit to the room to see how you had redone it. He had planned to see to it tomorrow, but now he is wondering if it’s been tainted by his cousin.

“It seems he disapproves of my choice of decor.” You roll your eyes to show it does not bother you and place a kiss on his cheek. “Come. Eat with me. I’ll tell you what happened over our supper.”

“It is your space, like my mother’s.” He huffs, but he eagerly lets you lead him out onto the balcony. “The staff loves to make sure our private dinners are romantic.” Javi smiles at the candles on the table.

“They do wonderfully for us.” Tonight there are pink gin tonics in the cocktail pitcher that awaits you, and a beautiful seafood supper with fresh bread and bright vegetables. A feast that won’t make you feel over full or too tired afterward is a gift in its own right.

“Perhaps we should have a party for them.” Javi suggests. “Catered food, nice drinks. They can relax and be served.”

“That would be a very kind thing to do, I think.” You’re not sure if there’s precedent for that kind of thing, but you have to think it’s been done in some form before. “Maybe I can look into what it would take? And include the clean up being done by someone else, of course. It would be useless to give them a party that they have to clean up after themselves.”

“Of course.” Javi nods seriously. “Everything taken care of.”

“But…” You take it upon yourself to pour two glasses and hand him one, inhaling the wonderful scent of the plates he has set down on the table. “Lucas seems…more devious than usual.”

“Is that even possible?” Javi asks, rolling his eyes slightly. Ever since you arrived, it seems as though the blinders have been pulled away. Showing Javi how rotten his cousin’s soul really is.

“I hadn’t thought so.” It’s unfortunate to be wrong on that front, but here you are. “But he came the closest he’s ever come to incriminating himself today and we were standing right in front of the fireplace in the morning room while he was doing his…I hesitate to call it an interrogation of me, but it wasn’t comfortable. Either way he was very candid, and I watched the footage after retrieving the file from palace security. I think it’s damning enough to encourage the investigators to look into him again.”

“Really?” Javi has just sat down, leaning forward and his eyes narrow. “Tell me what he said, Margarita. I want my father’s death explained. I want to know why we lost our king too early.”

As you eat your recount every detail. The conversation is burned into your brain from this morning and though you’ll show the footage to Javi later so he can see it all for himself, you’re confident in your ability to tell the encounter to him completely. “I can’t help but think it all seems…sinister. But that may be my own bias against him showing. It might m be best just to let the investigators decide.”

“That’s what we will do.” Javi nods. “Although, I don’t want you to be alone with Lucas again.” He admits. “Will you keep Sebastian or one of your ladies with you?”

"A rotating witness along with my security detail?" Of course, to Javi's point — the guards who are meant to protect you are usually some small distance away so that you don't feel smothered. Today they had been at the door to the morning room while you were inside. Perhaps it is time to make better friends with them after all. "If that will make you more comfortable, querido, then I will make sure I keep someone with me."

“I just do not wish for my cousin to do something.” Javi admits. “I cannot banish him for any reason, and I cannot risk your safety.” If Lucas is plotting something, he would rather he not have access to you.

“I am not an enormous fan of your cousin trying to do something to either of us,” you reason. It is plenty enough work to run a country without having to worry about your own family trying to sabotage you or worse. “I will keep someone around me and so will you. The only time we should be alone is to be with each other.”

“I can agree with your logic.” Javi nods as he spears a stalk of broccolini. He doesn’t mention that it will give plenty of alibi for anything Lucas tries to cook up. Especially with the extra surveillance that has been discreetly installed under the guise of ‘redecorating’.

"I will have Sebastian contact the investigators first thing in the morning and hand the footage over to them personally, with a full explanation of what they are watching." It won't be fun, but at least it's some kind of progress. And progress desperately needs to be made.

“Perfect.” Javi nods even though it’s painful to admit that this can come from inside his own family. “Make sure that the investigators know that we are more than willing to be interviewed again.”

“I will.” A short reach across the table is all it takes to fit your hand in his, and you squeeze his fingers gently. “We will see this through. Your father deserves to be able to rest peacefully.”

He doesn’t want to monopolize the dinner with talk of his cousin, or his father. It pains him in a way that’s indescribable. “How has Sebastian settled in?” He asks curiously. “Has he had time to explore the country? You should take him, have a driver give you a complete day.”

“It’s probably asking too much to think you could get away for a day?” You know it is, but you still prefer to spend as much time with him as you can.

“I might be able to take half a day.” He would have to double check with Julius, but his schedule wasn’t too taxing the next few days.

“I don’t want to crowd your schedule with more things,” you assure him. “But it would be nice to spend time together.”

“I have relatively light days.” He promises. “I can try to combine the days to block out an afternoon. Or would you rather a morning?”

“I suppose it depends on what you want to show me.” The prospect of spending time together — even in public with cameras flashing and admirers stopping to spot him on the street — is a bit thrilling. While the investigation is ongoing, royal security isn’t keen to let the two of you eat at establishments they cannot control. Very few exceptions have been made and you haven’t been able to begin your date night idea quite yet. “Maybe we ought to consult security if we plan on doing anything besides going for a drive.”

“I will talk to Julius and send you a note?” He asks, knowing that it can’t be tomorrow. “Unless you have some appointments to plan the wedding?”

“Julius and Sebastian share our schedules for exactly this kind of reason.” They’re miraculously well-coordinated, actually, and you continue to be impressed with your brother’s work the longer he is with you. “We’ll ask them to find the day that works best.”

“Perfect.” He nods and smiles. “We are getting closer.”

“We are already very close, mi amor.” A smile even wider than his graces your lips and you hum happily around a bite of your dinner. “Would you like to hear about the wedding preparations?”

“I would love to hear.” He leans forward eagerly. “And anything you would like for me to help with, I will.” He assures you. “Even those little gift bag things. We are having those, right?”

“If you would like to have them, I will make sure they are included.” Javi always lights up when wedding plans are mentioned, so it seemed like a very good topic for lightening the mood of your meal. “I can ask our wedding planner to put together a list of ideas she suggests to fill them and you can pick whichever you like best?”

“Yes.” Javi nods. “Something local. Show off the art and craftsmanship of our people.” He tells you.

“I completely agree.” The more locally made everything at your wedding, the better it all will be. This is going to be a celebration for many more than just you and Javi.

“Local sweets. A handcrafted piece of jewelry that commemorates our day?” He suggests. “I want that to come from my personal wealth and not the budget.”

“Maybe a small pin, as the jewelry?” Something universal would be best, so it does not matter which bag goes to which guest. It will relieve an enormous headache on your wedding planner’s part. “Something symbolic, rather than the typical image of us smiling out from a white background.”

“That would be perfect. Maybe our flag? Made from local stone? Or gems, whatever you think is best.” Javi tells you. “I’ve just always loved the gift bags in wedding movies.”

"I'll see what the wedding planner thinks is doable in a fairly short amount of time and then you'll get a list to choose from," you promise him. After a few more bites in relative and enjoyable quiet, you put your fork down again and take a sip of your drink. "I've...been thinking about something. And I was wondering if I could talk to you about it."

“Anything.” It sounds serious and Javi is immediately giving you his full attention. Fork down and looking into your eyes. “You can talk to me about anything, Margarita.”

“That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” You reach across the table to take his hand and leave a kiss on his knuckles for good measure. “I’ve been doing some reading, and I had Bastian pull records. And it seems to me to be a sort of…unofficial Balearican tradition for foreign born spouses of monarchs to take a regnal name.” The whole concept of taking a regnal name — a name you will be known as, as queen — seemed positively odd to you at first. But the tradition seems to stem from taking pride in leading the people of these lively, engaging islands. A way of embracing the place and the people and promising to honor them. “I wondered how you would feel if…I did that, too.”

“What would you like to change it to?” He asks curiously. “I would love whatever you do, but I will still call you Margarita.” He admits with a bashful smile.

“Well…” It seems almost embarrassing, or it would be embarrassing if it were anyone but him, and you feel your cheeks heat as you swallow. “I thought…Margarita might actually be the right choice. I looked it up and it’s not too uncommon of a name. I thought it might be…romantic is the wrong word, but loving.”

“Queen Margarita?” Javi hums as he thinks about it and nods. “It would be a beautiful tribute to our future.”

“I always knew I would come here eventually.” For your whole life, you’ve waited for it. Waited to be summoned, and waited to be married, and waited to be with him. “But I only truly fell in love with this place after I met you.”

“It is easy, no?” He asks with a grin. “Our country is easy to love.”

"Very easy." You can agree to that easily. "But not as easy as it is to love you, querido."

The way Javi blushes makes you smile and he’s happy about that. Nothing is forced, nothing is put on with you and that’s what he loves. If you were just normal people, there would still be these tender affections between the two of you.

“Anyway, I just… I wanted to ask you how you felt about it.” He is blushing and he is adorable when he blushes. You shift a little in your seat and a pleased smile curls your lips. “Because ‘Margarita’ was just your name for me, and now I’m thinking about sharing it with the world. If you aren’t okay with it, I will choose something else.”

“I don’t mind.” He admits quietly, leaning in and staring into your eyes. “As long as we are together, I will happily share you with my country.”

“I’ll always be with you.” That is a promise you will make to him without hesitation. Now that you’re with him, the last thing you want is to be separated from Javi in any meaningful way.

“Hopefully your interaction with my cousin did not ruin your day?” He asks quietly. “How are your ladies doing?”

“Gabriela sat with me for some time this afternoon.” A small, mischievous smile curls your lips as you finish your meal. “My brother mentioned that it might be helpful to have some help in learning the geography and history of the country, as well as cultural tradition. Gabriela volunteered to be my tutor, essentially. And she’s been wonderfully helpful.”

“Good.” His affection for Gabriela will always be there, but it has shifted to a more brotherly love than anything else. Or perhaps it was always meant to be that way and he had been rebelling against his fate. Regardless, he’s happy you and Gabriela have formed a friendship. “She was much better in her studies than I.”

“She and my brother are also getting along very well,” you venture, wondering if that is too sensitive or inappropriate of a topic. True that Gabriela is married, but it’s abundantly clear to anyone with eyes that they are miserable, and she did not make the choice to marry Lucas willingly.

“Do you think there could be something there eventually?” He asks softly, knowing that it would be unlikely unless Lucas were out of the picture. Gabriela was loyal and would never shame the royal family with a divorce, even though she should divorce her husband.

“Maybe?” It’s just theoretical right now. Just a little gossip. But you know that Javi’s comfort level with the situation means a great deal to everyone involved. “Nothing will happen, of course. Not with Lucas in the way. But I think it’s sweet.”

“I want her to be happy.” Javi tells you. “As happy as we are.”

“That’s very admirable.” You admit, knowing that there are a lot of complications in the way of anything realistic. Still, you offer him an encouraging smile. “But I don’t know if anyone is as happy as we are.”

“It is quite a lofty goal.” He teases with a smile. “Perhaps it can be achieved.” He still marvels over how lucky he is and is grateful for it.

“Perhaps.” Just knowing how much he loves you makes your heart soar, and the familiar warmth returns to your cheeks. “Although it is a very lofty goal.”

Javi pauses for a moment, and he frowns as he reaches for your hand. “As long as you are never uncomfortable.” He shakes his head, aware that it’s coming out wrong. “As long as you know my feelings are genuine and I no longer will ever think about any woman the way I think of you.”

“I think the fact that you’ve stayed friends with Gabriela after breaking up speaks volumes about both of you as people. You’re good and kind and deserve to have those things visited back to you. And besides,” you reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Gabriela is also my friend. I want her to be happy, too. And my brother is a fantastic guy. She’d be lucky to have him.”

“Gabriela would be a wonderful partner to anyone who wishes a partner.” Part of Lucas’s problem is that he thinks he’s better than everyone. He had decided on Gabriela simply to hurt Javi.

“And Lucas deserves a good clobbering.” It’s mumbled, but only slightly, and you definitely mean it. In fact, you’d like a hell of a lot worse than a clobbering to happen to Lucas Gutierrez. A lot of people would.

Javi smirks slightly, hearing you perfectly but he doesn’t comment on that. “And what if Maisie?” He asks. “How is she settling into the role?”

“I think Maisie might have been born for it,” you chuckle. Javi clears away your empty dinner plates and you uncover the slices of Basque cheesecake smothered in cherry rioja sauce that the kitchen made for your dessert tonight. “Her husband is away on business as of this morning so she’s taking the chance to buckle down in helping with wedding and coronation plans.” Sending Javi a smile as you set out the smaller plates, you lean on the banister beside your small table while he pours out the last of your cocktail pitcher. “I think she deserves a very large ‘thank you’ after all this is finished. Gabriela does, too.”

“Perhaps a girl’s weekend on the royal yacht?” Javi asks, wondering what you had in mind.

“I was thinking of a getaway for Maisie and her husband. Something wonderfully romantic where they don’t have to worry about anything but enjoying themselves.” The first bite of cheesecake makes you both groan happily and break out into contented grins. “Maybe by that time Gabriela will be able to spend time with whoever she wishes.”

“Perhaps.” Javi frowns slightly. “If – if Lucas is as bad as we think that he might be, we will have to circle the wagons, as that American saying goes, around Gabriela. She will be distraught.”

“I would think she will be glad to be free of him.” You do shake your head, though, and nod. “If his true colors turn out to be as black as we suspect, we will take care of Gabriela. Make sure that she comes out of the thing unscathed.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “It will be good for her to be your lady if everything is as bad as we expect.” He admits quietly. “I am so sorry that you have been thrown into such a mess, amor.”

It might surprise him to hear, but the truth comes out of you alarmingly fast as you sit together at the little balcony table. “I don’t care,” you tell him truthfully. “I’m just glad that you didn’t have to go through all of this alone.”

He pauses, in awe of you and picks up your hand. “You are the most gracious and loving woman.” He murmurs softly. “I hope to never take that, or you, for granted.”

******

"Your Highness." Sebastian has been in and out of your office all morning, but this time when he steps inside he has a much more determined set to his face. "Inspector Jefe Blanco is here to see you."

"Oh, good. Excellent. Bring him in, please." Waiting for the Chief Inspector's arrival this morning has had you on edge. It will be good to get all of this out of the way and put the evidence into the hands of professionals. "And Sebastian, will you stay, please? While he's here. I would feel more comfortable."

“Should I order some tea?” He asks, knowing that it might set the tone from the grim talk into a more open conversation.

"I asked the kitchen to prepare a tray this morning. If you could just ring down and ask them to send it up?" His instincts are good and you appreciate your brother's attention to detail, especially in these moments. "I'm sure that will put us all a bit more at ease."

“Good. I will have Flores bring it in so no more staff than necessary needs to come into the room.” Sebastian decides. He will instruct the staff to leave it outside with your personal maid.

"Thank you, Bastian." For one more second, it's just you and your brother in a room, and you flash him a grateful smile before putting your official princess countenance back on. "Please show the Inspector Jefe in."

Sebastian nods and moves to the door, opening it and stepping back to allow the very official visitor in. It’s clear the man has taken special care with his appearance, every medal shined and his uniformed neatly pressed.

"Thank you for making time to come and see me this morning, Inspector Jefe." You stand from your desk and shake the man's hand. He has been very diligent and professional in investigating this case but you have to admit that you have now known the man quite a bit longer than you would prefer. In a perfect world, this case would have been over before it began. "I'm afraid I have some information to share with you, but I do not know how helpful it will end up being."

He frowns slightly, confused as to how you can have more information. “What do you have, Princess?” He asks curiously. “I must confess I am surprised to have been contacted by your office.”

"I had a conversation yesterday with the Count of Ibiza that...unsettled me." Polite wording is necessary here, so that you don't appear to be accusing Lucas of anything outright. "The conversation was videotaped by our security system here in the palace, and I would be very much gratified if you would consent to watch the footage with me and tell me if there is anything to it. If the count's manner seems suspicious, and his threats genuine, as I suspect they are. Or if I am perhaps too sensitive to the topic being touched so deeply by the late king's sudden death."

“The Count has an excellent reputation.” The inspector informs you, a little wary when it comes to potentially implicating members or the royal family. “However, he was slightly evasive during questioning.”

"It is my sincerest hope that my worries are unfounded," you lie as cleanly as you can. It is the only lie you have ever told the inspector and what you do hope is that it stays that way. "But I will not claim any kind of expertise in law enforcement or investigative technique."

“Even though you say there is video evidence of the conversation, I find that it is always helpful to have someone describe the interaction. Posture, tone, facial expressions cannot be accurately displayed at times through a security system.” He explains quietly, pulling out a notebook from his jacket pocket. “Princess, will you please tell me about this conversation with the Count?”

"Besides deeply insulting both myself and King Javier, the Count outright stated that he believed the late King Miguel made the wrong choice as to his successor and expressed anger over not being considered in the choice. Or, rather, not being chosen outright." You pause when Flores brings in your tea tray, thanking her as she pours out three cups and sets one beside each of the three of you seated in the room. "Thank you, Flores. We'll manage from here."

“Yes, your highness.” She bows respectfully as she eyes the inspector. There are many questions as to why he is here, but she won’t voice them.

“So, you see, Inspector,” you continue once the door is shut securely behind your maid. “When outright statements like that are made in the same conversation where the Count also voices his opinions that King Javier is not fit to rule, or that I have some ulterior motivation for being here and accepting my role in his country…it makes me quite worried. That perhaps the Count may not have the most honorable intentions after all.”

“I can see why that would raise your suspicions.” He frowns and flips back through his notes to look at the impressions he had jotted down from the interview with Lucas Gutierrez. While some of the men question his old-fashioned methods and claim that he wants to model his investigative style after American style gumshoes, he finds it good to have those notes easily accessible rather than having to go back to the system computers. “And you say that he felt like he was threatening you?”

“I felt that he was threatening the king.” The clarification is important here, you know that. But you’re very glad to have your brother in the room with you to be an emotional anchor so you don’t end up seeming distraught or too forceful with the inspector. “The Count made it very clear that he did not consider me worth threatening. He appears to regard me as an ornament to His Majesty. Which is insulting, but not threatening.”

“I hope that regardless of what I find, you informed his majesties security team?” He asks seriously. “Another king lost in a short span such as this would throw our small country into chaos.”

“It would.” Especially considering Lucas is the next in line to the throne. A horrible alternative that you can’t even begin to comprehend. “And I have. I informed His Majesty and he has taken it to his team.”

“Good.” Inspector Jefe might have some private concerns about the new king, but he would never dream of making them public.

“With this background, will you be willing to watch the footage that my security team gathered yesterday morning?” Convincing him that it is worth looking into Lucas again is the key here, even though you know it’s a hard sell. As the Count of Ibiza, the people have come to mostly love Lucas Gutierrez. But they do not see his true nature.

“I have learned in my time as an inspector that some people’s true nature is always concealed until they believe they are immune from reproach.” He picks up his tea and takes a polite sip. “Would you be able to provide a copy or would I need to view the footage here only?” Sometimes the security for the palace had certain protocols in place that he would not be able to change.

After discussing it with Javi, Julius, and the head of security, it has been decided that a copy of the footage could be handed over to the police for their own use, and you open your desk drawer to retrieve it. “The copy has been made for your use, but of course I expect you will want to view the original here as well so you can be assured that no changes to the footage have been made.”

“Thank you, Princess.” He nods his head slightly, grateful that you understand the delicate nature of these things. “Once I have reviewed the footage, I may have more questions. Would it be possible to request some time in your schedule if that is the case?”

“Of course.” In fact, you would be concerned if he didn’t have more questions for you. “My assistant will make sure you are afforded access to me when necessary. This investigation remains of the utmost importance.”

“I appreciate that.” He knows that you must be busy, the announcement of your wedding accompanying the coronation had been announced and it wasn’t too far away.

“Just as I appreciate you being available this morning.” The footage is already queued up on the computer display monitor on your desk, and you turn it to face outward so both the Inspector and Sebastian can see. “Cooperation is everything in these matters.”

“The tales of your wisdom have not been underestimated.” He hums, turning to the screen and leaning forward so he can watch.

This is the fourth time you've watched this conversation, not to mention the fact that you lived through it the first time, and while the Inspector Jefe listens to Lucas spit his vitriol, you sip your tea in silence. Every time you listen to him it makes you angry all over again. But you can't afford to show any kind of anger in front of the inspector.

There will be several notes that come from this video, and he frowns as he looks back up at you. “This is very disturbing.” He admits. “The count did not know that he was being recorded, yes?”

"That is correct." It's a relief to hear that the investigation will be taking your conversation into account, but you try not to show it too much. "But I did not make any effort to hide the fact from him. All areas of the palace that are in use by staff and the royal family are protected by surveillance."

“It almost seemed as if the count wished for you to accuse him of something nefarious or to reveal it himself.” Jefe looks around the room, and nods. “Please do not try to be alone with him, Princess, but let him talk if he comes back.” He tells you, standing up. “I will have to review this many more times, but I will be taking a closer look at the Count in my investigation.”

"If you need to speak with me again, please do not hesitate to contact my assistant. And if I have any other information to pass along to you, may I request for you to come in the same way you did today?" You stand along with him, showing the Inspector Jefe the respect that his position is due. "I have already made arrangements to ensure I will not be alone with the Count again. At the king's insistence."

“Absolutely.” He had been brought in through the tunnels under the palace to prevent speculation, and he understands that. “Whatever you wish, your highness.” He bows politely and thinks that you are also as gracious as you are beautiful.

"Have a good day, Inspector Jefe." That might be a fruitless wish, considering the task on his shoulders, but if anything? That is something you can absolutely relate to.

He nods again and quickly walks out of the room to leave you and Sebastian by yourselves.

Once the door shuts, you sit back in your chair and pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers and sigh. “That went better than I expected.”

“I don’t think the inspector wasn’t too surprised by your claims.” Sebastian admits, curious as to the man’s true feelings about the count. Not that he seems the type to ever say. He seemed to play his cards close to the vest.

“I think he was surprised that Lucas would admit to being so vile, but maybe that’s just me being too American and imagining all these nobles constantly play nice with each other. I can’t tell.” Now that the meeting is over, you refill your teacup and pick up a biscuit gladly. “Well, darling brother. We have an hour to kill before wedding planning overtakes my day.”

“What would you like to do?” He asks, aware that he had blocked out much more time than necessary for the meeting with the inspector.

“Javi and I talked about taking a little driving tour of the islands sometime soon. Do you think that’s something you could coordinate with royal security?” You’re not asking him to do it right now, god knows, but you do rummage in your desk with a mischievous grin on your face while you ask.

“Are we talking about an actual tour?” He asks with a laugh. “Or cordoning off lover’s lane so you can make out with the king like you’re teenagers?” He’s amused by the idea but also happy that you are so happy with your future husband.

“Say what you want, but my fiancé is ridiculously sexy.” And frankly, you’re exceptionally happy about that fact. Not just because you’re glad to be attracted to your partner, but because producing an heir is such a big part of what’s expected of you. It will not be a hardship to fulfill that duty.

He snorts and shoots you a grin. “Most of the world agrees with you.” He admits. “Which is why I’m so confused as to why his cousin is so harsh on him.”

“It’s jealousy, don’t you think?” At least, that’s what you’ve always thought. Javi was graced with looks, and charm, and privilege as well as so many other attributes — and Lucas simply couldn’t stand that his cousin was more beloved. “Lucas doesn’t see that cunning is not the only worthwhile intelligence in the world. That’s the other thing.” A moment later, you extract a travel Scrabble set from your desk drawer with a squeak of triumph. “Spanish Scrabble for an hour?” You suggest, shaking it at him enticingly. “Build that vocabulary like I know you want to?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes but grins. “I don’t know why you claim my Spanish isn’t up to par.” He teases, nodding and sitting down beside you. “I’ll still kick your ass at scrabble, Princess or not.”

______

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[amorediaz-writes]

│ FORMAT･ﾟ⎯ 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌

│ SUMMARY･ﾟ⎯ 𝖠𝗓𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗌𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗈 answer Cesar’s invite.

│ WORD COUNT･ﾟ⎯ 𝟤,𝟫𝟢𝟣

│ WARNINGS･ﾟ⎯ 𝖺𝖽𝗎𝗅𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾.

│ NOTES･ﾟ ⎯ 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒.

⟼ O𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖣𝗂𝖺𝗓 Masterlist || Series Masterlist

⟼ 𝖭𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖨❤️‍🔥: 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖡𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖳𝗈 𝖥𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾

   AZARIA SMILED AS she drove through the county of Los Angeles to her new house. After saving all her money, she finally bought herself a cozy three-bedroom place. Also, Azaria didn't know what to expect when her friends saw her again. One thing she did know was that she couldn't be any happier to be home. As Azaria drove past the bridge of shrines dedicated to those that lost their lives, she knew she had made it to Freeridge.

  Driving down the street, Azaria couldn't help but reminisce on her memories before she left. All the block parties she attended, the fights she had on the road to enjoying the sun while walking on the sidewalk. There was one person she would always kick it with, and that was Oscar Diaz. The two were inseparable. After meeting in high school, you would never no see them together.

  Oscar and Azaria spent all day together the day before she left Freeridge and made love all night. She took a piece of Oscar's heart with her when she left. Azaria missed him every day and vice versa. One thing Azaria hoped to happen now that she was back was to rekindle the flame between her and Oscar. That's what she planned.

  In no time, Azaria pulled up to her new house and parked in front. As she stepped out, the sun beamed down on her while staring at her greatest accomplishment. Noticing the moving truck pulling up, Azaria locked her car and greeted the movers. After exchanging greetings, Azaria unlocked the front door, and the helpers moved the furniture inside the once-empty home.

  Rolling her suitcase inside her new home, Azaria thanked the helpers and locked the door behind them. She stood in the living room, not knowing what to do first. Azaria wanted to call her best friend Imani. When she grabbed her phone, the doorbell rang. A confused look appeared on Azaria's face as she went to answer it.

  She saw the top of the person's head through the peephole. As she opened the door, she peeked around the door seeing none other than Jamal, Ruby, Caesar, and Monse. Jamal and  Ruby seemed to be bickering back and forth. Azaria opened the door all the way and stood there watching them.

"I know it's Zari, and you can't tell me otherwise," Jamal remarked, stomping his feet like a child.

"What if it's not her? We knocked on a random person's door, Jamal!" Ruby affirmed, shaking his head.

"Are you guys done arguing yet?" The woman questioned, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

  The teens looked up, gasping as they met Azaria's eyes. "See, I fucking told you it was her." Jamal was excited to see Azaria again as he jumped up and down, clapping his hands. All she could do was shake her head.

  Jamal's energy made Azaria miss him the most. That kid always brightened her day whenever they came across each other.

"What can I do for you guys?" Azaria asked, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her hip.

"First and foremost, welcome back to Freeridge Zari," Ruby said, shoving Jamal to the side. "I see time away has made you more beautiful."

"Thank you, Ruby." The woman praised as a smirk came across her face.

"Second, I missed you," Jamal commented, walking up to Azaria to hug her. "Why did you leave me."

  Ruby scoffed and shoved Jamal again, pushing him away from Azaria. As he went to wrap his arms around her, he sneakily ran his hands down to her ass, resting them there. Azaria couldn't help but smile at the young boy's antics, but she had to tell for the hundredth time.

"Ruby, sweetheart. I love you like you're my little brother, but if you don't move your hands, I'll break them in so many different places that you won't be able to masturbate again." Azaria warned, staring at Ruby, who slowly retracted his arms. "Thank you. So what are you kids up to?"

"We were going to the pool to go swimming when we saw you were moving in. Do you want to come?" Monse questioned, stepping in front of the two boys who started bickering back and forth.

"Sure, I'll see you guys there in an hour," Azaria replied, nodding her head.

"Good, we'll see you there." The young girl beamed, clapping her hands.

  Azaria waved at the teens before closing the front door. She goes over to her purse, grabs her phone, and calls her closest best friend, Imani. These two had an unbreakable friendship and would ride for each other ten toes down. After a few rings, Imani answers the call.

My Other Half🌞🤍 - Didn't we get off the phone?

No, we didn't, but if you want me to find another best friend, I can do that.

My Other Half🌞🤍 - Don't get disrespectful. What's up?

Do you and Honey Buns want to meet me at the community pool?

My Other Half🌞🤍 - Yea, we'll meet you there.

Okay, see you, babe.

My Other Half🌞🤍 - Goodbye, my love.

Azaria plugged her phone and headed to the bathroom for a quick rinse. After she stepped out of the glass enclosure, she wrapped a towel around herself. Searching through her clothes, she didn’t know what to wear. Finally, Azaria decided on an orange and yellow tie-dye three-piece bikini with shorts. She grabbed her phone and car keys before heading out as her feet slid in some slides.

   As she drove down the road, Azaria couldn’t wait to see her best friends, especially Samara, aka Honey Buns. Since she’s been away, Samara called Azaria every day. They'd talk on the phone from sun up to sun down. Azaria was thankful for Samara calling her and checking on her. She appreciated her friendship so much.

   Arriving at the public pool, Azaria noticed Imani’s car and parked beside her. The friends stepped out of the vehicle simultaneously and screamed upon seeing each other.

“Bitch! Look at you!” Samara beamed, spreading her arms wide.

   Azaria smiled and ran into her best friend's arms, smiling at her. “Oh, I miss you so much, Honey Buns.”

“Girl, I missed you too,” Samara replied, not wanting to let go of Azaria. She wanted her friend to stay in her arms forever.

“Um, excuse me. What about me?” Imani dramatically coughed, standing with her arms open.

“You know I missed you, boo.” Azaria smiled, wrapping her arms around her other friend.

“I see you’ve gotten thicker.” Imani teased, smacking Azaria on the ass.

“Hell yeah, you did. I love it.” Samara said, nodding her head in approval.

“Well, I’ve been hitting the gym while I was away.” Azaria smiled, twirling around in a circle.

“Mhm. Either that or getting some dick.” Imani remarked, smirking at her friend.

   The pair stared at their friend, waiting for her to reveal the truth they wanted to hear. Azaria rolled her eyes, making the girls laugh.

“Okay, a little bit of that too. I’m not going to lie.” She laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I know that’s right.” Imani cheered, giving Azaria a high five.

“Well, come on. I want to get in some water. It’s hot as the devil's dick out here.” Samara replied, fanning herself with her hand.

   The three friends placed their sunglasses on their faces and started walking through the gates, looking like some bad bitches.

   Oscar leaned against the side of the pool, lost in his thoughts. Lately, he couldn’t keep his mind off his true love, Azaria Summers. He missed the hell out of her and wished he could see her beautiful melanin face again. Little did Oscar know his wish was going to come true. As he glanced towards the entrance gate, he suddenly felt like he had a deja vu.

   He couldn’t believe the view before him; he knew he didn’t have 20/20 vision but swore his imagination was playing tricks on him. Since Azaria arrived with her friends, Oscar couldn’t tear his gaze away from her beautiful body. Something was different about Azaria. She appeared thicker than the last time he saw her five years ago.

   The thought of Azaria occupied Oscar’s mind, thinking of all the times they’d shared that he didn’t hear his current armpiece calling for him until he felt a smack on the back of his bald head.

“¡Pinche perra! No pongas tus putas manos sobre mí.” Oscar cursed, turning to face his arm candy, Danica. ( “Fucking bitch! Don’t put your fucking hands on me.” )

   Oscar met her last year at the strip club, where he had to handle some business, and she approached him. He thought Danica was looking good, and he needed a release. At first, it was supposed to be a one-night stand, but he couldn’t cut her loose for some reason. Danica would only be a hit and quit, but Oscar always felt lonely, but she could never fill that hole in his heart that belonged to Azaria.

“I’m sorry, bebé, but I’ve been calling you, and it’s like you’re stuck on something.” Danica apologized, rubbing the side of his stubble.

   More like someone, and that someone is a person he held close to his heart, unlike the chica he’s with now.

“What is it?” Oscar asked, blocking his face from the bright sun.

“I asked if you wanted to do something special tonight.” She replied, fixing her sunglasses on her face.

“Special like what?” Oscar questioned, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“I don’t know, maybe you, me, a bottle of Don Julio, and a bathtub,” Danica smirked, biting her glossed bottom lip.

   If Oscar was honest, he didn’t want to spend any more time with Danica now that he knew the love of his life was back in town. The look on her face held a hopeful expression.

“Nah, I have the gang coming over,” Oscar remarked, shaking his head.

“But they always come over, and I never have you to myself,” Danica whined, making Oscar cringe. 

   The sound of her voice was like nails scraping on a chalkboard, and it honestly irritated him. “You know what you signed up for when you got with me.”

   He watched her from the corner of his eye as she rolled her eyes and huffed like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Oscar knew that now his chica was back in town, he had to do whatever it took to get her back. With his back against the pool wall, Oscar gazed up at the sun after fixing his sunglasses and smiled. Now that his one true love was back in town, he couldn’t wait till he felt her soft skin. Things would finally go back to the way they were before she left.

   Oscar sat in the cool water and watched Azaria from across the pool like a creep. He felt like a weirdo for doing so, but he didn’t care. Danica started getting on his nerves, complaining about the sun being too hot, making him roll his eyes.

   You should’ve stayed fucking home.

   With a huff, Oscar turned to say something to his arm candy but stopped when he saw his little brother Cesar walking toward him. Oscar was glad his hermano came in time. At that time, Danica got up and walked to the bathroom, letting Oscar sigh in relief.

“Wassup, little bro?” Oscar questioned, looking at Cesar.

“I see you are staring at Zaria,” Cesar smirked, pushing his shoulder against his brother’s.

“When did she get back?” He asked, smiling at his younger sibling.

“Today. The crew and I were walking to the house and saw a moving truck. Come to find out, it was Azaria moving into Freeridge.” Cesar explained, dipping his feet into the water.

“How far does she live?” Oscar asked, nibbling the inside of his cheek.

“About a block away,” Cesar answered, swinging his feet.

“Invite her over.” The eldest brother said as a smirk appeared on his face.

“Why?” The youngest sibling asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Do it,” Oscar replied, climbing out of the pool.

   When he gathered his things, Danica followed like a lost puppy behind him as they exited the gate to the parking lot. Cesar grinned and approached where Monse, Jamal, and Ruby sat near Azaria and her friends.

“Hey, are you guys doing anything tonight?” Cesar asked the three women, who raised their brows at him.

“What’s it to you?” Imani questioned, pulling down her sunglasses.

“You guys should come over. Today’s one of the homie’s birthday.” Cesar smoothly claimed, trying to be persuasive.

“What? You want us to come over?” Azaria smiled, laughing at Cesar’s antics.

“I don’t see why not, seeing as Imani and Samara are always there.” Cesar shrugged as a grin appeared on his face.

“I guess we can come over,” Samara replied, rolling her eyes.

“See you guys later.” Cesar waved at the girls as he and his group exited the pool area.

“What the fuck just happened?” Samara asked, utterly confused.

“I think we got asked out by a fourteen-year-old,” Imani replied, shaking her head as she laughed.

“Well, it looks like we have plans tonight.” Azaria laughed, checking her phone notifications.

“Bitch I know you fuckin’ lyin’.” Samara cursed, rolling her eyes.

“I wish I was.” Imani sighed, shaking her head.

   Azaria laughed at her friends as Samara had a look of disbelief written on her face.

   Walking to her car, Azaria smiled as she hugged Samara and Imani. “We can meet up at my house.”

“Hell, we’ll follow you there,” Samara replied, waving her hand.

“That’s fine with me.” Azaria shrugged, tossing her bag in the passenger seat.

   She climbed into her car and shut the door as she stuck her keys in the ignition. Arriving at home, Azaria unlocked the front door and entered the dwelling.

“Ooo, girl, I love your new place.” Samara beamed excitedly, looking around the living room.

“Yea. It feels empty, but yet it's not.” Imani replied, nodding in agreement.

   Azaria turned to her friends, arching an eyebrow at them with an amused expression, and said, “Ya’ll can get the hell out with all that negativity.” She pointed to the front door as she leaned against the plush couch.

“Miss me with that bullshit. We are just playing with you.” Imani replied, smacking her lips and waving her best friend off.

“Anyway, the guest rooms are that way. I’m going to take a shower.” Azaria explained, pointing to the opposite end of the hallway.

“See you in a minute.” Samra nodded, walking into the guest bathroom to run a shower.

   Azaria entered her bathroom, turned on the shower, entered her closet, and searched the hanger for an outfit. She knew it would be warm outside, even with the sundown, since it was the middle of summer, so she knew her clothing had to have fewer sleeves. Once the water reached the perfect temperature, Azaria removed her swimsuit and stepped inside the glass enclosure. The water felt good running down Azaria’s body as she washed the chlorine and pool water off herself. After washing off, Azaria shut off the water, wrapped a towel around herself, and walked to her room.

   When Azaria dried off, she moisturized her skin and dressed in Shein's sexy ripped raw hem denim shorts, Shein’s orange icon letter graphic knot front crop top, and Nike SP Syracuse dunk low sneakers. For her hair, she brushed it into a slicked-back bun with her black Burgundybay acrylic frame glasses and orange Telfar small bag. Looking in the mirror, Azaria applied clear glitter lipgloss on her lips and took a few pictures. Before she left her room, she sprayed her body mist from Bath & Body Works and closed the door behind her. Azaria waited in the living for her two friends since they loved spending their sweet time preparing for any social gathering.

   Huffing through her nose, Azaria threw her head back, annoyed. “Ya’ll come on! We’re just going to see your boyfriends!”

“Girl shut up, we’re coming!” Imani yelled from inside the guest room.

“It takes time to look this good,” Samra remarked, poking her head out the door.

   Upon seeing Azaria’s outfit, she gasped, saying, “Oh girl, you look good. Who’re you looking cute for?”

“Would you finish getting dressed and come one, please,” Azaria replied, rolling her eyes.

“What’re you rushing for? You wanna see Spooky that bad, huh?” Samara joked, playfully teasing her friend.

“Girl, I’m not looking cute for him or anybody else.” Azaria lied, rolling her eyes. She didn’t know what to think, knowing she would see Spooky after all these years.

“Man, miss me with that bullshit,” Samara replied, smacking her lips, retrieving back inside the room.

   Don’t get her wrong, Azaria was happy yet nervous to see him again. She wondered if he was in a relationship and how he’d react when he saw her again. Did he think about her as much as she did him? Azaria didn’t know.

   Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Samara and Imani walked into the living room, dressed.

“I love your outfit. Where’d you get it?” Imani questioned, checking her best friend out.

“Shein and Nike.” Azaria smiled, posing for her.

“So fucking cute.” Imani complimented, nodding in approval.

   The three friends took pictures of each other for Instagram before exiting Azaria’s house and heading toward the party.

[albatmobile]

Cardinal Sins Chapter 1

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: M | 6.5k fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter One: Everybody Wants to Rule the World

It’s only been mere hours since Bruce had handed you three sets of keys.

You’d met him in the lobby of your current place after you got a random text that he was in the neighborhood. 

“The keys activate the elevator,” he said as he dangled a set of gold keys in front of you before handing the rest over. “These act as keys to your new place.”

“Mine?” you questioned with a raised brow. 

Time has really flown. 

You, Roy and Jason had been dating for a year now and your lease at your old apartment was coming to an end next week.

Bruce smiled, patting you on the shoulder. “The lease is in your name,” he revealed.

“That’s too much!” you exclaimed. You shook your head, making to give back the keys but he simply refused the action with a chuckle. 

“You’re practically one of my own.” Your heart thrummed in disbelief at Bruce’s reassurance. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as I own the place and all.” You didn’t know why, but you though you saw a twinge of pride in his eyes. “Alfred’s cooking a Sunday roast for the family,” Bruce said before opening the lobby door. He began to walk backward out of the building, facing you all the while. “The four of you should stop by the manor once you get settled in. The movers should already have new furniture all set up, so it’s just a matter of unpacking.”

Ever since freshman year of high school, you’d found your life intertwined with everyone who’s stepped foot in that manor.

Damian had taken you in as a stray within your first week at Gotham Academy. Soon so did Tim, your lockermate and Stephanie, his on-again off-again girlfriend. After that, you were over at the manor daily and spending the night nearly every night of the week. 

Jason had been unexpected, having quite literally crashed into your life. After him, Roy had been an easy addition; that is, as soon as you got through Jason’s prickly exterior. They were both three years older than you, but it hadn’t stopped you from chasing after them.

When Jason and Roy had disappeared before their graduation, you hadn’t realized you wouldn’t hear from them for another 5 years. That’s right- it wasn’t until nearly two years ago that they finally reached out to reveal what had kept them from you for so long. Though, it hadn’t actually been that easy because, well, Jason and Roy are also Red Hood and Arsenal. 

You showed up at their apartment door to find Roy with a bionic arm and a kid and only much later did you figure out their secret identities. 

Soon after they reappeared in your life, your parents did as well. Them and a barrage of Gotham’s finest criminals, which ultimately ended in a dockyard fight with you and the entire Bat Family.

“Sounds good,” you reply, waving him goodbye with a smile as he saunters away with his Bruce Wayne persona. “Thank you for everything, Bruce!”

At his name, flocks of people turned around and began to pull out their phones. He’d turned around to shoot you an annoyed, yet obviously mirthful look at the fact that you’d started a media frenzy.

You stood there a moment longer, watching as he avoided questions with grace before disappearing into his flashy Lamborghini with a small wave back.

Now, here you are piled into a fancy elevator with Jason, Roy, Lian and a shit ton of boxes.

“Old man never gave me shit,” Jason grumbles as he turns the key in the penthouse slot. 

You were surprised by the generosity as well.

You’ve always considered Bruce a father figure ever since he stepped in to help you fight, well, your actual father. That dockyard battle for example??? Yeah, that shit had all been organized by your biological parents.

Ever since your conception, it had been planned that you would be Gotham’s reckoning. 

Your parents had created a trust fund for Gotham’s criminals to funnel money, meaning your death had been planned from the start. All the while, you were to be used as a lab rat for the Joker’s experiments, which were to then be used on the organization’s enemies.

Picture this: 15 years old, wearing a ballgown your mother had stolen to the Wayne Gala only to get beaten and injected by the Joker and his goons. Now, picture 20 years old, surrounded by your found family while your actual family tried to murder you for the 

Talk about trauma, right?

Lian giggles at Jason’s curse, leaving Roy to glare in the raven’s direction. “Oh, so the safehouses he paid for don’t count now, Jay?” Jason merely glares at him in response, undoubtedly saving Lian’s ears from any further cursing.

Recently, Lian’s taken to repeating everything. Literally everything.

From the weather report, to Titus’ barks, to curses and anything and everything she hears from her superhero cartoons, she repeats it all.

You can’t help but feel stuck on what Bruce said when he’d handed you the keys.

“He said I was ‘practically one of his own,’” you relay to them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you look to Jason for an answer. 

“Told you,” Roy mutters under his breath, seemingly to no one and everyone at the same time. 

Ever since your biological family had given you up, you’d felt misplaced and unwanted.

Yes, you had Jason, Roy and Lian, but you wanted a parental figure, something you’d never had. Part of you was starting to feel like Bruce was that, but you could never be too sure. The man kept his cards close and his emotions closer- practically the paragon of a closed book.

“I do, you know,” you trail off self-consciously, rubbing at your forearm for comfort, “view him as a father figure.” You’re not sure who chokes first, but both of them immediately begin coughing. “I mean, like, in the least weirdest way possible!” you attempt to rectify your statement, but it’s too late. Your cards are on the table. 

You see, while Jason isn’t biologically related to Bruce and neither are you, you both see him as a father, which does tend to make things… odd.

“Well,” he drawls, “that didn’t sound grammatically correct in the slightest.” 

Of course he’d deflect.

You let out an annoyed sigh, “Fuck you.” 

So, the honeymoon period is definitely a thing.

For real.

Not that it wasn’t currently still going on, nor do you doubt the feeling will ever truly wane with two men like Jason and Roy. All you’re saying is that cracks in the relationship and points of contention have been becoming more obvious. You tell yourself that it’s only natural this happens, though you’re not entirely sure since this is your first long-term relationship.

One point of contention being: Jason dodging any and every serious conversation. 

Example: right now.

Even Roy, who seems to rely on humor to get out of tough situations can sit down and talk it through. Jason, on the other hand? He needs a lot of coaxing and it’s not the way you roll.

“Hey,” Roy rubs your shoulder with his bionic arm before the two of you can start squabbling, “we’re just glad you have family and to be your family. Technicalities and all.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze as the elevator comes to a halt.

The doors open to reveal a penthouse not even Damian could dream of.

“Holy shi-” Jason’s elbow to the chest prevents Roy from finishing the curse, though Lian already has it memorized.

“Oh, shit!” she squeals as she breaks into a run. She manages to dodge Jason and Roy’s attempts to collect her and calm her down by squirming and ducking under all the new, read: expensive, furniture. 

“Looks like the latest edition of Architectural Digest in here,” you whistle lowly as you take in the expansive room with wall-to-floor windows. 

Roy’s too busy following after Lian, grabbing falling lamps and vases that she’s run into to respond.

Jason still seems stuck on your irritation in the elevator, but, as usual, he says nothing. All you want is validation from him that you belong in his family, yet he refuses to give it to you and you can’t pinpoint why.

“Since when have you read that shit?”

You know moving’s hard, so you take it easy on him. 

For now.

“It’s called manifestation, whore.”

It’s at this exact moment, of course, that Lian sprints into the main living room with an attached kitchen and dining room. “S’called manifestation, roar!” Lian screeches with a devilish smile.

“Oh, thank fuck she heard that wrong,” Roy groans before hurriedly running past you and Jason, who are still stationed in the entryway.

“Oh, thank fuck!” she giggles maniacally as she crawls out from under the couch and makes her way back over toward you and her daddy.

As she’s passing, you reach down, catching Lian in your arms. She attempts to keep running even in your strong grasp but eventually tires out like a wind-up toy reaching the end of its winding.

Eventually, she settles down for a nap in her new lily pad styled bed. The whole room looked straight out of Princess and the Frog with dreamy shades of green, purple, pink and blue scattered throughout.

Tiny pixie lights were strung up and cascaded their twinkling glow down the walls.

While she’s conked out, you, Jason and Roy set to work on unpacking the few boxes you’ve brought. It doesn’t even take two hours, but it’s enough to leave you exhausted.

You plop down to your new sectional with a tired huff.

Jason and Roy are in the same boat.

Jason groans as soon as his body hits the couch, “God, I can’t wait to not fucking do anything.” He closes his eyes and rubs at the bridge between them. “We’re staying on this couch and ordering pizza.”

“Pizza,” Roy tiredly agrees from next to you. “Definitely pizza.”

“I forgot to mention,” you clear your throat, catching both of your boyfriend’s attention as you do, “we’ve got dinner at the manor.”

•••

When you get to the manor, everyone’s already mulling about, laughing as they help Alfred set the table.

Once you’ve greeted everyone and handed Lian off to Dick and Wally, everyone helps themselves to a plate from the kitchen and takes a seat.

It’s truly a full house with your family of four and Bruce and Alfred, of course. Dick brought along his fiancé Wally, while Damian seemed to have a similar idea as Jon is also milling about in the kitchen. Barbra’s here, but what you can’t figure out is why Tim and Stephanie seem to have both brought Conner Kent to dinner.

You vaguely remember him from the college party all those years ago, but since when had either of them been that close to Connor? As far as you’d heard, Tim and Stephanie had been official ever since the dockyard battle, soooo what the fuck is Kent doing at Sunday dinner?

Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing, but with him being a half-blooded Kryptonian and all, no one raises the question. 

“You wanna talk embarrassing?” Dick scoffs. “Wally, over here, decided last Hanukkah,” Wally groans, shaking his head in his hand, “that it’d be a good idea to do a ‘Secret Santa’ for it.”

“Dick, dude, do you even know the definition of embarrassing?” Roy goes into a whole reenactment of the coffee shop debacle, back before you knew about them being heroes. By the time Roy gets to the main part of the story, nearly everyone’s in tears. “And then she smashed a toilet lid over his head, swear,” Roy has to catch his breath, “funniest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Jay went down like a ton of bricks and the whole time I had to stay in character.”

Where Dick, Babs and Steph are doubled over laughing, Jason looks like he’s already planning where to hide your other boyfriend’s body.

Damian ‘tchs,’ “Pathetic, Todd. You allowed an untrained girl to disarm you so easily?”

“You,” Jason brushes him off easily, “you, I don’t want to hear from.”

“Refusing to hear the truth?” Damian scoffs. “Even more pathetic than I thought.”

Connor looks around the room, gauging everyone else’s reactions, though everyone’s already used to their constant bickering.

“No one likes you, pipsqueak,” Jason sneers like the true older brother he is.

“I like him,” Jon pipes up, smiling sheepishly when Jason’s heavy glare falls upon him from across the table. “But you are being a bit over the top, Dami. You should apologize.”

You’re pretty sure, no, you know it’s Dick who ‘coos' at their interaction and you can’t help but agree.

Jason’s glare drops as he, instead, nods approvingly Jon’s way.

Throughout your friendship, you and Damian had been in a tangled web of miscommunications, hormones, and wrong-doings. Once Jason and Roy came back for good, you knew you and Damian were meant to remain friends. 

Damian and Jon, though? They’re definitely made for each other.

Damian, honest to god, pouts at his boyfriend before turning back to sneer at yours.

“Todd,” his voice rumbles lowly.

“Brat?” Jason’s smirking now.

Damian mutters some unkind words under his breath he’s lucky Alfred’s too old to hear before continuing, “I apologize. It appears I’ve taken things too far, though your skills still are very much questionable to me.”

Jason huffs, “Whatever.”

The subject quickly shifts.

"So, the three of you are official, then?" Bruce asks. His tone is perfectly even as if he's just genuinely wanting to know, if not to understand Jason better, but Jason doesn't see it this way.

The raven straightens in his seat, puffing out his chest in preparation for the conversation as he does so. "Yup."

"So, you're poly," Bruce says as more of a statement than a question.

"Still bi," Jason says as he slowly sips his water. He’s pointedly staring his father down as a silent warning to fuck with him and find out.

Bruce's brows furrow in light confusion. "But you're in a polyamorous relationship." Again, his tone is genuinely curious, not accusatory, but Jason is always used to being on the defense around the man.

"Half my life, I’ve seen you show up with multiple women on your arms, Bruce. You really didn’t think that’d rub off on at least one of us?" Jason smirks as if begging Bruce to tell him he's wrong. "Fact of the matter is, it doesn’t make me any less bi, just like how that didn’t make you any less straight."

Bruce nods, "I see."

Jason looks genuinely surprised that it didn't devolve into one of their usual petty arguments. He nods back, thus officially ending the conversation, or dare you call it, a genuine bonding moment between the two.

Tim waits a moment for the chatter that follows to die down a bit before he brings up what everyone’s been dancing around.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors that, uh,” Tim shoots an uncomfortable look at you and Jason, “Joker’s back. A few of my sources say if he hasn’t broken out already, he will soon.”

You watch as Jason’s fists clench under the table, noting how Roy’s hand immediately chases after to soothe it.

Dick shakes his head before reassuring, “He’s as good as locked up. Bruce, Damian and I checked out Arkham last week. He hasn’t moved since they put him in there after his Thanksgiving bombing.”

Tim still seems unconvinced, however. “He’s still making moves, then.”

“Do you want him to escape, Tim?” Jason sneers. “Because that’s what it’s sounding like.”

Connor bristles, though Stephanie’s gentle hand on his shoulder has him backing down immediately. Your brow raises, thinking back to Roy’s similar gesture with Jason just moments ago. Are Stephanie and Tim back on?

Jon looks as completely bewildered as Conner does as they observe the Bat Family semantics. Meanwhile, Wally and Roy look like they want to step in but, ultimately, don’t want to get involved in family drama. For Barbra and Stephanie, this is all just another Sunday.

“Master Jason,” Alfred’s wise timbre stirs from the end of the table not occupied by Bruce, “Master Damian. Is it too much to ask for just one civil dinner?”

“Sorry, Alfred,” they both grumble in unison. 

Soon, everyone begins catching up once again.

Alfred cuts Lian’s roast for her at the same time Roy cuts her potatoes, Jon keeps leaning over to whisper things to Damian that draw a small smile. Dick, Wally and Roy reminisce about the Titans, eventually going over their wedding plans with Barbra and Stephanie’s excited input, while Tim and Jon argue horror movies with Jason and Connor.

And there Bruce sits, all the way at the end, hands clasped as he watches it all.

Your stomach is warm, filled with the inexplicable feeling of love in the room.

You listen in on it all with a huge grin that’s been present on your face ever since you arrived. You go to drink your water when, suddenly, your hand falters.

One moment, you’re there in Wayne Manor at the dinner table with your family and now you’re….

You look around, watching as groups of men swarm a truck. A group of two men presents you with a box, which, when opened, reveals a stem. 

You blink.

Suddenly, you see people in some kind of uniform running all around you. When you look to the right of you, you want to stumble back, but your body only continues to run.

Joker?

You must’ve been out of it for a while because, when you come to, you’re left with 13 pairs of concerned eyes on you.

“Uh,” Stephanie chucks a potato from her fork from across the table at you, “are you having a "That’s So Raven" moment, or are you and the dickwad’s using a remote-controlled vibrator?” You shake your head, mind still clearly picturing what you’d just seen. Stephanie’s words, however, go unnoticed. Suddenly, you hear her saying your name, “You good?”

You blink.

You’re back in the manor, back at the dinner table, but your mind is clearly elsewhere.

“What?” you ask, looking around the table at everyone’s concerned faces.

Jason’s brows are furrowed in a silent question of ‘are you okay,’ while Roy’s hand rubs gently at your back. 

Are you okay?

You clear your throat and force a smile you know won’t pass in a room full of detectives, but, hey, what can you do?

The last time you had a vision that intense had been…

Your brain screams with a sting of sharp pain that leaves you clutching the tablecloth for relief. 

In the dockyard, Joker had injected you with two syringes. Immediately following the initial toxin, you’d been met with a vision right as the Joker made his escape in the helicopter. Though you’ve tried hard to remember what you’d seen in the past year, for some reason, it had never been clear until now.

Joker’s hands, the glaring lights of the city below, the scrawny man beside him…

“Yeah,” you clear your throat again as you force another smile. “Acid reflux,” you shrug to solidify your false excuse. 

The table’s conversation slowly stirs again, though Jason and Roy’s eyes never leave the side of your face. You’re not ready to meet their eye contact, knowing you won’t be able to meet their concern.

“So,” Bruce begins, “I’ve heard you’ve been somewhat involved in their operations for some time now. Have you thought about what your future involvement may look like?”

“What do you mean?”

He takes a coy sip of water. “I mean, are you content with staying behind the screens? Or, is there a plan to eventually join them in the field?” he asks.

Point of contention #2: neither of your boyfriends ever wanted you involved in any confrontation.

Sure, behind the screens as ‘their own personal Oracle,’ as they called you, was fine. Anything else? 

Nope. No. Nada. They wouldn’t have it.

Total double standard, but they’re too fogged in their love for you to care.

“Says the man who threw three kids into the field before they’d hit puberty.”

“Believe me,” Bruce says tonelessly, “you’d hit puberty, Jason.”

“Old enough to see through the bullshit, maybe,” Jason snaps back easily. “Dick was fucking 8, Bruce. Damian, 10. You don’t care about the logistics, let alone the safety. I do,” he glares at his father, “and I don’t want my family getting hurt.”

“Jay,” Dick frowns, making to put his hand on Jason’s for across the table, but Jason easily retracts his hand. “I love you and appreciate you, really, I do,” he puts his hand over his heart, “but I don’t need you to stick up for me. We’re all working on our issues; it takes time, but I know we’ll all eventually get there.”

Damian seethes quietly across from you, though you know it’s in defense of his father.

“Get there eventually?” Jason snorts, throwing out his hands dramatically. “I’m sitting here, a few years off of 30 and still fucking going through it. You think she needs to go through this contention, too?”

“She,” you start with purpose, “is not a child.” You reference his earlier rebuttal. “And she can stick up for myself! Uh, I mean, herself.” You shake your head in annoyance before starting over, “I’m a grown woman and I appreciate you wanting to look out for me, but that’s so hypocritical when you’re both going out every other night to do the very thing you don’t want me doing, isn’t it?”

It’s deadass quiet.

Like, you’ve never heard the manor so quiet with this many family members in it.

“Speaking for me,” Barbra’s sweet voice stirs slowly as if she’s picking and choosing her words carefully, “I went from Batgirl to Oracle, not the other way around like you.” You nod, interested in where she’s going with this. “Being Oracle has made me so much more aware of everything, regardless of physical training; being Oracle comes with its own set of skills none of you possess and that gives her an edge.” Your heart swells. “We’ve all seen her on the battlefield and seen how she can handle her own under pressure,” Barbara finishes.

“You’re a strong woman,” Stephanie concurs, saying your name as she does so. 

“At the end of the day,” Roy finally speaks up from beside you. “What you’re all saying is true and we can’t stop her. It’s her decision and we’ll support her either way.”

An actual end to the contention?

Your head snaps over to catch Jason’s reaction, but he’s glaring at the painting behind Tim’s head. “I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes,” Jason mutters. His teeth aren’t necessarily gritted, though it sure sounds like it.

No one speaks, there’s only the clinking of forks and Alfred’s low humming to occupy the large dining room.

“Well,” Bruce’s domineering voice suddenly captures the attention of everyone at the table in an instant, “if you’re going to be going on missions, you’ll need to have a suit.” 

He gives you a pointed look that you can’t help but smile at.

“I...” you trail off, looking down at the mahogany dining table. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

“I’ve got that part covered,” he says with a small, warm smile. You’ve got an appointment with the new co-chair of the R&D department. Right, Damian?”

Damian glares from a few seats over, correcting his father, “Head.” No matter how old he gets, he never outgrows his signature scowl. 

 “Of course.” Though, Bruce’s correction goes largely ignored by his youngest son.

“Tomorrow, 10 o’clock sharp,” Damian’s eyes narrow your way, “don’t be late.”

•••

You arrive at 9:55 in the morning out of nerves and sheer excitement.

Jon’s already there to greet you with another man you’ve seen around at a few Chrismukkahs at the Manor. The raven is quick to explain that Damian got caught up in a meeting and introduces you to the gentleman in the suit.

“Meet Luke Fox,” Jon says. He stands a few inches taller than the darker gentleman in front of you, but he’s still quite a bit taller than you. “He co-chairs the department alongside Damian.”

The man in front of you offers a smooth smile and a firm handshake to match. “I know I’ve seen you at parties, but I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced,” Luke greets you.

You nod. Definitely nice to finally put a name to the face.”

He then gives you a tour of the entire floor dedicated to R&D, though you haven’t been able to get one thing off your mind.

Luke seems to sense your staring and turns around to smirk. “What?” he asks.

“You said co-chair,” you say, leaving him to nod politely. Meanwhile, Jon seems to know exactly where your line of questioning is going. “Why is Damian the head?”

“Have you met the kid?” he responds. You and Jon both snort. Luke flashes his badge at a scanner on the wall before dragging the two of you through another long hallway. “My dad, Lucius Fox headed this department for decades before he was finally made CEO about three years ago.” 

Suddenly, Jon cuts him off as a loud gust of sound affronts your ears.

“Woah!” Jon exclaims suddenly. He grabs your hand and pulls you over to one of the windows in the hallway. It looks into a lab where someone’s using a flamethrower to torch a small piece of odd-looking metal. 

“This is the innovation section of the floor,” Luke explains. “Right now, they’re testing on something called Nth Metal.”

“Neat,” Jon says, sufficiently satisfied with his answer and finally allows your group to move along.

You fall back into step with Luke and Jon.

“So, when did you start at R&D?” 

Luke scratches at the back of his head. “Probably around that same time,” he chuckles. His laugh is as charming as his professional disposition. “Damian and I seem to know what the other doesn’t, so it’s been good to have him around.” He leans in like he’s telling you a secret. “Well, that and I get paid more, but he doesn’t need to know that,” he confesses. You smile easily, failing to hide your laugh. It’s something Jon catches immediately and quirks a brow at, but Luke continues on like nothing happened, “Co-chair just means I can spend less time leading and more time nerding out.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a Wayne heir right alongside Damian. Hell, you know Luke’s probably 10x more professional compared to Damian’s order-barking leadership style. With what Luke said, though, it seems like they’re a pretty functional team.

“Trust me, Luke,” Jon sidles up beside you like a coy cat. “This one knows all about nerding out.”

“Shut up,” you his, sending him an admonishing glare. He merely rolls his eyes, snickering all the while. “Besides, you know this is the nerdiest thing I’ve done in a while.”

Regardless of your previous warning, Jon takes it upon himself to catch Luke up on the past, oh, six years of your life? Well, as long as he’s known you for, that is, so Sophomore year and beyond.

You’re all rounding the corner to come face-to-face with a giant vaulted door, but Luke seems to move swiftly past it.

Too swiftly.

Your eyes narrow slightly, tuning out Jon’s excited chatter to catch every detail you can. 

There’s a giant red ‘ACCESS LEVEL: 84T BADGE ONLY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED,’ sign that takes up a majority of the door, but there’s a smaller print beneath it.

You quickly glance ahead. Luke and Jon are still just in front of you, but you’re clearly lagging. You shoot one more glance at their retreating forms before taking a look at the fine print.

‘All Rights Reserved Clean Energy Project, LLC.’

You shake your head, confused, but Luke seems content to get as far away from the door as possible.

“Ah,” Luke says a little too smoothly for someone who just rushed past a super-secret vault, “here we are.” He inputs a lengthy code, then scans his retina before the door finally budges to reveal the impressive space.

The design room is huge, yet somehow, there’s not an inch of free space.

Mannequins and large rolls of fabric take up a majority of the space with the rest taken up by drawing boards and fancy-looking sewing machines.

“Not gonna lie,” Jon says, nudging you as he guides you further into the room, “Luke and I have kind of taken on this project by the horns, so I wanted to be here when you went over design ideas!” You look down at the table and begin shuffling through Damian’s sketches. He laughs when you shoot him a teasing brow, “No, I did not sketch those. You’ll never let me live down my drunken art skills from Damian’s penthouse party, will you?”

You snort, “It was so fucking bad, Jon.”

“Rude.” Jon bumps into you playfully. “Oh, wait! Go back a page,” he insists and you easily comply. “Okay, the body of this sketch,” he trails off as he searches through the pile. Luke easily hands him a sketch that compliments the previous pick. “Oh, for sure, with these ears.” 

“So, you haven’t entirely figured out the final design yet?”

“Of course not!” Jon says at the same time Luke speaks up.

“Wouldn’t really be your suit if you didn’t actually have a say.” 

You can’t argue with that logic.

With that, you peer over their shoulders at their mismatched collage, realizing that you don’t have any critiques. “Well, I like what the two of you have done so far, but what about functionality?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Luke agrees with a nod, stepping back from the table pensively. “What weapons would you be comfortable with?”

You think back to Jason’s advice. The one that’s rung clear in your head from the moment he’d said it.

“Nothing that I wouldn’t want used against me.”

Jon shoots Luke an inquisitive brow as if to ask if he has any ideas.

“I think we can work with that,” Luke says before he begins on a rough sketch. It’s obvious to you now that Damian was the most likely culprit behind the original drawings on the table.

For the next few minutes, you and Jon both chime in with ideas as Luke switches between erasing and drawing. When he’s finished, Jon nods excitedly. Once you give the thumbs up, Jon uses quickly arranges the final look.

“Okay,” Jon sets down the last paper with a wide grin. “What about this?”

“Honestly,” you squint down at the selection but are, ultimately, unable to put it all together, “Damian probably needs to sketch it out for me to fully see it.”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Damian’s signature deadpan scowl graces your line of sight.

“I heard my name,” Damian says, making his dramatic entrance as he sidles up beside the two of you. Jon ruins the entrance, however, by giving him a sweet peck on the lips that sends Damian into a brief state of shock. He blushes, obviously startled by the action and clears his throat before greeting you both by your last names to cover it up, “Glad to see you’re still punctual.” 

“Glad to see you’re still not,” you tease easily.

He ignores you in favor of flipping through the selected pages. “Oh, good. You’ve both shown her the sketches.”

Jon nods excitedly and begins explaining the new design. You watch in amusement as they work together seamlessly to transfer the three of your ideas to paper via Damian’s hand. 

After another hour of planning, you hold the final design in your hands.

Damian clears his throat, catching your attention, “I’ve been preoccupied with some other cases recently, but I wanted to get back into what happened last year.” You nod, feeling very much in the same boat. Jason and Roy seem eager to put it in the past, but you have the gnawing feeling no matter how much they try to bury it, the situation will resuscitate regardless. “Deadshot’s a good place to start. He might have a good lead that you can follow.”

Deadshot.

The same man who’d been sent to kill you not even a year ago.

“Great,” you trail off. Meanwhile, Damian seems like he’s biting his tongue. “What?”

He sighs, looking over at you with his hazel eyes for the first time since he’d greeted you, “You don’t have to do this, you know? It’s not fun and games being a hero; people die. Heroes die every day. That’s what you’re getting into when you put on the suit.” Damian’s staring deep into your soul, stealing your breath as he does so with the sheer intensity of it all. “This isn’t a comic. There is no next page, there is no second run and there is no do-over. This is real life,” your name is barely a whisper. “You already came so close last time…” he trails off. “Just be sure this is what you really want.”

Before you can open your mouth to defend yourself, Jon butts in.

“I just got my powers. I’ve been going out almost every night on patrol and I’ve never once heard this talk from you, so why are you giving it to her?” It’s not a jealousy thing, but rather Jon pointing out his hypocrisy. “You think that just because I’m half Kryptonian doesn’t mean all of that doesn’t apply to me, too?”

You glance appreciatively in Jon’s direction as Damian takes in his words.

Damian starts an apology, then trails off again, looking at Jon for confirmation on what to do next before finally giving in. “I apologize,” he briefly meets your eyes, then looks back at the design. “Do you have any questions?”

You smile lightly, accepting his apology easily. Luke, however, appears dumbfounded by words he’s obviously never heard from the Wayne heir. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“You’ll have it sent to your new apartment before your next mission, trust me. Are you sure this is what you want?” Damian scans your face up and down.

If he means the suit, or the hero life, you don’t know. 

What you do know is that you’re ready for it all.

You look it over for a moment before asking, “Does it come in red?”

•••

You want that lead.

You text in your group chat with Jason and Roy about Deadshot as soon as you get out of Wayne Tower.

Jason responds instantly, ‘Meet us at the park.’

The park wasn’t an unusual place to meet. 

You try to go on walks and let Lian run around the playground there every day if you can, seeing as it’s just a block away from the old apartment. Now, it’s a bit more of a trek to get to, but it’s well worth it.

When you arrive, you’re expecting to see Jason, Roy and Lian.

You’re definitely not expecting to see Deadshot.   

You don’t see Jason or Roy anywhere, so you immediately take up a defensive stance.

“Still got that spark, eh, kid?” Deadshot smiles placatingly at you and steps aside to reveal Red Hood and Arsenal sitting peacefully on the bench. “Not here to kill you this time, beautiful.”

“Watch it,” Red Hood’s robotic tone warns from behind as he stands up. 

Deadshot’s hands immediately surrender, though he’s wearing an obvious smirk. “Can’t hate the player,” he says.

“I can,” Red Hood threatens lowly.

The heart-stopping click of a gun’s safety being turned off is enough to wipe the smirk from Lawton’s face.

“Now, now. Let’s play nice.” He tilts his head off to the right where, off in the distance, you notice a security guard. “Wouldn’t want anyone stepping in on our fun, now, would we?”

It’s a thinly veiled threat and you know it.

Luckily, Arsenal steps in calmly. “We’re just here for information,” he says.

Deadshot scoffs in amusement, crossing his muscular arms, “Didn’t think to wine a dine a gent? Just went straight to threatening?” He sighs dramatically, “What’s this profession coming to?”

“Listen,” you speak up. Everyone seems startled you’ve spoken, so you take their moment of surprise to get what you came here to get. “We need to know who hired you.”

The evening was coming on with the sun nearly being set as you all stood there in the desolate park. Tiny songbirds spouted out as they settled into their homes for the evening while a chorus of crickets chirped a cacophonous background melody.

“You’re cute,” he starts, regaining his smirk as he continues. “But we both know you’re not that naïve,” he chuckles, stepping away from Hood and Arsenal to come closer to you. 

Immediately, your boyfriends flock to your side, but Deadshot pays them no mind. He backs you against a tree, putting a hand right beside your head to trap you.

“What’s your game?” you ask before your partners can intervene.

“Well, ring-a-ding-ding,” Deadshot drawls with a slight purr. “That’s what I’m looking for now, right?” He smiles at you like he knows he’s about to get whatever he wants. “An exchange is only fair in this business, right, gorgeous?”

He makes to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, but you smack his hand away before he can even get close.

“I know about Task Force X.” It’s your turn to smirk. “Now, talk.”

His face instantly drops and his voice deepens. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, little girl,” the mercenary threatens.

You don’t dare look over Deadshot’s shoulder where Arsenal’s undoubtedly holding Red Hood back from doing something stupid. No, instead, you focus on the mercenary who’d been trying to kill you a year ago.

“I’m not a little girl,” you hiss, putting all your power into pushing him away from you. He stumbles backward, nearly tripping over the bench they’d originally met on in the process. “And I do know what the fuck I’m talking about.” You come up on him and send him flipping over the bench anyway, advancing on his fallen form before he even has time to draw his guns. You straddle him, pinning his arms above his head as you knee him in the chin. “TALK!” you demand menacingly.

“You know,” he drawls, “even when you think you’re not giving me what I want, you’re still giving me exactly what I want.” As if to prove his point, Deadshot bucks his hips up. You know it’s an attempt to throw you off, but you hold steady and land another knee on him- this time to his side. “Hgg!” he laughs through his pained grunt. 

“Information,” you insist. To cement your statement further, you knee his other side as you continue to straddle and pin him. “Now, Lawton.”

He scoffs, “You’re don’t get to call me that. Not unless you actually give me what I want, gorgeous,” you continue to glare at him until he rolls his eyes and continues, “You do realize I’m letting you do this, right, doll?” 

You wring his wrists at the same time you knee his side with all your might, unleashing a yelp from the man.

“Yeah,” you twist his wrists tighter until his face twists up in pain, “that’s exactly what’s happening here. Besides,” you start with an airy tone, “I thought you said I was giving you exactly what you wanted.” You turn your head menacingly at him, “Now, which is it, Lawton?”

You give him your best intimidating look, which is apparently enough to finally break him. 

“Fine, fine,” he winces at your grip. “Black Mask hired me.”

You finally break eye contact with Deadshot to peer over at your partners. You motion down with your head at him and they nod, so you release him.

When he stands, he rubs distastefully at his wrists.

“What did Sionis want with her?” Arsenal asks.

Deadshot sighs, “It was a two-parter. Protect the package, kill the girl.”

“What package?” Hood demands.

“Dunno,” Deadshot shrugs disinterestedly, side-eyeing you, “they switched out hired guns halfway through. Picked up the damn thing from Gotham Botanical Gardens, but that’s all I have to offer. Merc’s honor.” He places a sarcastic hand over his heart, but regardless, you believe him.

Red Hood and Arsenal go over a few other things with him, but all you can think of is your vision.

You’d seen a rose and Deadshot’s lead was, well, leading you to a garden.

It couldn’t be a coincidence, right?

“Not that this hasn’t been fun catching up, but I have a girl at home waiting for me,” he snickers at your horrified look. “Don’t look so jealous, beautiful; it’s just my daughter. Anyway, au revior.” Deadshot gives a half salute before disappearing off into the night.

By now, the sun had completely set, though you weren’t itching to get home just yet.

You looked between Red Hood and Arsenal with your hands on your hips, noting they seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“We need a plan.”

A/N: my first sequel!! super excited to share this with you and to introduce the badass on the cover!!!

keep an eye out for the next chapter where more will be revealed! in the meantime let me know what you think!

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[yourmomsawh0r3]

crossroads: chapter 2

javier pena x fem/ single mom reader

The morning sun streamed through the windows of their new home, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. Y/N and Elle had been awake since 9 AM, grateful for the extra rest Elle had gotten by sleeping in. Elle's laughter filled the room as she danced to a song playing on the iPad. Y/N chuckled while flipping pancakes on the griddle.

"Do you want chocolate chips on your pancake?" Y/N asked, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter.

"Yes, pwease!" Elle said, still twirling to the music.

Just as Y/N plated the pancakes, the doorbell rang. Startled, she put down the plate and walked to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she sighed in relief when she saw the delivery people. Opening the door, she greeted them warmly.

"Hi, I’m Elle," her daughter chimed in, pushing her way between Y/N and the door. She flashed a toothless grin at the delivery guy.

"Hi there, Elle! I’m Harry," the delivery guy said, smiling back. "I’m here to deliver and build your furniture."

Y/N exhaled, grateful that she had signed up for the furniture assembly service. "Thank you so much," she said, stepping aside to let the delivery team in. She placed Elle in her portable high chair and set a pancake in front of her.

As Elle happily munched on her breakfast, Y/N directed the movers where to place the already assembled furniture. "Can I get you guys a water or anything?" she asked.

"That would be perfect," one of them replied.

After a few hours of work, the movers had finished setting up everything. Y/N thanked them profusely as they left, closing the door behind them.

"Alright, munchkin, we gotta go to Walmart. We need a TV, groceries, and some other things for the house," Y/N said, helping Elle put on her shoes. They grabbed Y/N's purse and headed to the car. She buckled Elle into her car seat and drove to Walmart.

On the way, Elle begged for a new toy. Y/N sighed, considering how well-behaved Elle had been recently. "Okay, you can have one toy, but nothing too expensive," she agreed.

At Walmart, Y/N placed Elle in the shopping cart and locked the car. They wandered through the aisles, filling the cart with groceries, home decor, and other necessities. At the checkout, Y/N asked the cashier to put the two TVs on hold and to help load them into her car. They finally checked out and headed home, with all the items they came for, including Elle's new toy.

Back at home, Y/N lugged the two TVs inside, setting one up in the living room and the other in the bedroom. She put away the groceries and decorated the house to make it feel like a home. Elle begged her mom to go play outside on the new playset the builders had assembled. Giving in, Y/N took her daughter outside and pushed her on the swing.

"Higher, Mommy!" Elle squealed with delight.

Y/N laughed and pushed her higher into the air. After an hour and a half in the summer heat, the sun began to set. "Alright, peanut, time to go inside. We gotta make dinner," she said, leading Elle back inside.

In the kitchen, Y/N stared at the cabinet, deciding on spaghetti for dinner. She set to work, preparing the meal while Elle played with her toys on the floor. As they sat down to eat, Y/N heard a car door shut outside. It must be her neighbor, she thought, but she ignored it and continued eating.

After dinner, she packaged some leftover spaghetti for her neighbor, thinking it would be a nice gesture. Meanwhile, next door, Javier Peña had just gotten home from a night shift. He noticed the "For Sale" sign was gone and an SUV was parked in the driveway. He stared at it for a moment, trying to remember where he had seen that car before. Shrugging it off, he went inside, hoping his new neighbors would be nicer than the last ones.

Cracking open a beer, Javier sighed as he stood in front of the empty fridge. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He walked over, ready to open it when he heard a small voice on the other side.

"Mommy, do you think they are home?" Elle asked.

Javier opened the door to see the woman and child he had helped the previous day with a flat tire. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Hey, Javier, right? The sheriff?" Y/N said, smiling. "Nice to see you again. We’re neighbors now. I made spaghetti for dinner and didn’t want the leftovers, so I figured why not share some with my neighbor?" she rambled, holding out a Tupperware container.

Javier grinned, finding her rambling endearing. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you," he said, taking the container. He crouched down to Elle's level. "And who might this be?" he asked.

Elle giggled. "Hi, mister! I’m Elle and I’m three," she said, holding up three fingers.

"It's nice to meet you, Elle," Javier said warmly. "Thank you for the spaghetti. It smells delicious."

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "It was no problem at all. We just wanted to say hello."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Javier replied, standing up. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"We will," Y/N said, her smile growing wider. "Have a good evening, Javier."

"You too," he said, watching as Y/N and Elle walked back to their house. He felt a sense of hope for the first time in a while. Maybe having new neighbors wouldn't be so bad after all.

Back in their house, Y/N felt a sense of accomplishment. They were settling in, making connections, and building a new life. As she tucked Elle into bed that night, she whispered, "Sweet dreams, my love. Tomorrow is a new day."

Elle smiled sleepily. "Goodnight, Mommy. I love you."

"I love you too, peanut," Y/N said, kissing her forehead. She quietly left the room, feeling a mix of exhaustion and contentment. They were on the right path, and that was all that mattered.

Y/N got into her bedroom and started to unpack her things, methodically placing her belongings in the closet and drawers. She made her bed, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows, but her mind kept wandering to Javier. The image of him glistening in the sun, his strong muscles flexing as he fixed her tire, and his confident smile were etched into her memory. She could almost feel the warmth of his presence, and her thoughts began to stir something deep within her.

As she pulled back the covers, her heart raced. She reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a vibrator. The anticipation made her hands tremble slightly as she pushed aside her underwear. Her mind filled with images of Javier—his firm hands, his chiseled jaw, and the way his uniform hugged his body in all the right places.

Y/N closed her eyes, letting her fantasies take over. She imagined Javier leaning over her, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered in her ear. She turned on the vibrator, the gentle hum sending shivers down her spine. Slowly, she moved it against her slick folds, her body responding eagerly to the sensation.

Her thoughts intensified, picturing Javier’s hands exploring her body, his fingers tracing every curve. She imagined the feel of his lips on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. Her breathing quickened as the vibrator pulsed against her clit, her hips moving in rhythm with her fantasies.

In her mind, Javier’s voice was a low, seductive growl, telling her how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was. The thought of his strong hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer, made her moan softly. She increased the speed of the vibrator, the pleasure building inside her.

Y/N’s body arched off the bed as she imagined Javier thrusting into her, his body pressed firmly against hers. The fantasy was so vivid, she could almost feel his weight on top of her, the heat of his skin against hers. Her orgasm built rapidly, the sensation overwhelming as she envisioned Javier bringing her to the edge.

With a final thrust of the vibrator, she cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure. Waves of ecstasy washed over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. She lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, her mind still filled with images of Javier.

As she turned off the vibrator and set it aside, she smiled to herself. The thought of seeing him again, of maybe getting to know him better, filled her with a new sense of excitement. She pulled the covers over herself, feeling satisfied and drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, next door, Javier had just finished his beer and was trying to unwind from his shift. He couldn’t get Y/N out of his mind the way she looked when he first saw her stranded on the side of the road, her grateful smile when he offered to help, and the way she rambled adorably when she brought him the spaghetti. His thoughts wandered to her curves and the spark in her eyes, sending a rush of heat through his body.

Unable to resist, he moved to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He lay down on his bed, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for himself. As he stroked his growing erection, he imagined Y/N’s soft skin beneath his hands, her moans filling his ears. The fantasy grew more intense, picturing her writhing beneath him, her breathless whispers driving him wild.

Javier’s hand moved faster, his mind lost in the thought of being with Y/N. The pleasure built quickly, his body tensing as he imagined her calling his name, her body arching in ecstasy. With a deep groan, he came, the release leaving him breathless and spent.

As he lay there, recovering from his climax, a smile tugged at his lips. The thought of seeing Y/N again, of possibly exploring whatever this was between them, filled him with a sense of anticipation. Both of them, in their separate homes, drifted off to sleep, their thoughts intertwined with possibilities of what tomorrow might bring.

comment to be added to the taglist

Taglist: @wanniiieeee @sunnytuliptime

NEXT CHAPTER

[whiteglovedc]

[creepyscritches]

Idk how to phrase it bc I've only recently begun to think about it but 🤔 growing up poor, alone, and temporary kinda taught me valuable poor skills like "how to live w only 1/4 of your possessions available, even the important ones" or "we won't be able to stay here that long, decorate but don't mount anything to the walls" OR my greatest hit "your movers are also poor like you so bring a case of ice water and popsicles for them + get ready to haul as much of your furniture as you can w 3 sweaty strangers"

But like 🤡 I never learned the not-poor skills lmao... Yeah sure I'm good at making things last but??? Learning when it's okay to replace something is such an unexpected skill. I'm not rich by any means, but I've finally met a career level where I'm secure job-wise and financially :/c which means I don't actually have to wear things until they fall apart which is nuts. My solution at the moment is to remember being the kid in goodwill finding kick-ass clothes and happily build a donation box of things I like but haven't worn in awhile (a year or so usually). Saluting the anonymous southerner who donated a pair of new w tags tripp pants in 2009. Inspiring me, king.

Anyway also the fact that I've established myself somewhere now is 🤡 man I'm figuring it out, but I feel very silly sometimes. Killing the voice in my head that says "don't get settled too much, you have to undo all this soon" by just thinking "if I still like it here, I will choose to stay longer, dumbass" which is a CRAZY luxury???? Girlies, home ownership is insane to me and I enjoy renting tbh, but being at the mercy of rent jacks made things pretty nomadic for awhile. I'm fully unpacked here. I mounted my first TV last year? Insane. I'm hanging floating corner shelves just to put junk I make on them. I have PLANTS? Idk it's just weird the things that are very normalized that I never did and a lot of my friends never did. My countertops are stone now, so I've had to learn to place things gently on them so they don't shatter. You could dunk a plate onto the vinyl countertops I had in high school. I do miss that freedom.

[socialistmary]

Devil on my back; prologue

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warning: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, implied smut & ✨actual✨ smut further down the line, age gap (Joel's in his 50s & Reader's in her late 20s), cheating, delicious catholic guilt, afab!reader, pet names (no use of Y/N), no outbreak!AU

Summary: Joel Miller vividly remembers the day you moved next door, a captivating vision of religious boundaries he can't wait to break

Word count: 1.6k

Author's Note: not sure yet what this series will look like, but this heathen needs to get it out before her innards explode 👁️👄👁️🌸✨

Joel remembers the day you moved in years ago, though the exact date escapes him. By this age, memories in his mind were more like a gallery of images and sensations brought forth by triggers of varying intensities, rather than words and numbers. He remembers the sweltering heat of the day, the smell of scorching sun and dry earth, the gritty feeling of dust settling on his sweat-soaked skin, all etched into his consciousness. That and Tommy’s complaining about how everything was just sticking together too much. It was downright miserable. 

The lemonade Sarah had brought out ten minutes ago already reached body temperature, ice inside succumbing too easily to the heat. Joel took a sip, pulled a face, and almost dropped the glass back down on the table. Mouth dry and eyes wandering, he watched mildly curious as a white “Jackson’s Moving and Delivering” van pulled into the driveway right across the street, shiny blue Toyota Corolla in tow. Joel looked at his own truck, red colour darkened by time and dust, wheels muddied after a particularly inconvenient thunderstorm last week. He hadn’t bothered giving it a wash - hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time it had an intentional wash. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared ahead waiting for people to pour out of the cars, vaguely aware of Tommy doing the same and Sarah coming out to have a look herself, eyes straining against the sun. Great, now everyone was curious, everyone's looking directly at them, and Joel knew they all looked like a gaggle of gossiping housewives. 

And there you were, first one out, hair pulled back in a high ponytail – a practical choice battling the Texas heat – dark sunglasses shielding your eyes, and a bright, dazzling million-dollar smile that had Joel squinting a little harder, as if to capture every little detail from afar. The others had yet to emerge from their cars, but you were already talking and waving your hands with enthusiasm, looking surprisingly thrilled to be in that little shithole of a suburb he’d moved into all those years ago. His ex-wife had insisted on the great schools in the area before fucking off to who-knows-where. 

Everyone kept watching as you gracefully maneuvered around the cars, captivated by your confident movement. You stopped in front of the door, no doubt searching for the keys to your new little home through that cute little jute bag. Joel couldn’t help but notice how delicate you seemed underneath the confident strides, entranced by your womanly curves, round ass, and the three-inch yellow heels you were prancing around in. He inhaled a sharp breath when he became awfully aware of his age.. and yours. ‘Just what I needed,’ he thought half amused.

Joel watched as you threw the blue Corolla a triumphant smile, wiggling a pair of house keys around with one hand and making a playful come-hither motion the other, sending a thrilling shiver down his spine, followed by a hard swallow. ‘Must be getting a heatstroke,’ he joked to himself and turned his attention to the cars, trying his best to get distracted. Jackson’s movers were already out of the van and hard at work distributing furniture, plants, and boxes across the lawn with practiced efficiency. The scene unfolded like a well-choreographed dance, Tommy and Sarah watched curiously, trying to make sense of the wrapped furniture and house goods. As they cranked their necks looking for questionable couch prints or weird-looking family heirlooms, like the creepy dead-eyed cat statuettes grandma used to have around the house, Sarah thought with a shudder, Joel’s focus kept drifting back to you. He watched discreetly as you chattered away with the movers, your charm and warmth unmistakable even from a distance.

The driver seat door of the Corolla opened to reveal a man your age, hair neatly cropped and face cleanly shaven, clothes looking soft and stiff at the same time, worn but with a like-new quality. He smiled a tight smile at you, clearly not feeling as comfortable as you looked. Hand on his hip, looking a little queasy, he surveyed the house behind dark sunglasses and made a lazy hand gesture for the keys. You walked to him with the keys, throwing a knees-weakening smile that seemed to have no effect on him, much to Joel’s surprise.

That’s when you turned around and noticed the Millers watching you from a few yards away. A hint of surprise flitted across your face, quickly fading into a bashful smile, Joel noticed, when Sarah gave you an enthusiastic wave. He tried to ignore the way his pants grew slightly tighter and his mouth a little dryer when he saw you bite into your bottom lip as you returned the wave. Even more so, he could swear he felt your burning stare on him behind your sunglasses, making his skin prickle in ways it hadn’t for a long time. Get it out of your head old man, he thought. Goddamn Texas heat.

“Hi, welcome, I’m Sarah!” Sarah greeted a little louder than she meant to, making you jump slightly and clasp your hands together in front of you as your smile grew wider. Joel easily noticed the way your cheek flushed to match a stunning set of pink rosy lips that will have him thinking pure filthy things later that evening. You’re jus’ a shy little thing, aren’t ya, he thinks to himself as you approach, keeping a respectful distance. Behind the dark sunglasses and that bright smile, behind the confident strides you take in those cute yellow heels, you’re just a little bundle of nerves, writhing in place with every bit of foreign attention. Realising this, Joel went to sit up a little straighter in his chair, remembering where he left his confidence. He's suddenly feeling a lot more at peace with his age than he did a second ago. He’s a fifty-year-old man, there’s literally no reason for him to feel intimidated by you. In fact, he wonders crossing his arms in front of his chest, maybe you should feel a little intimidated by him.

And you do; from this close, he feels like you do. Despite the sunglasses framing your face and hiding your eyes from view, Joel found himself keenly attuned to your nuances just by watching you across the road. Your mouth was a complete canvas of emotion, revealing your thoughts and feelings more than you probably realised. It was as if your lips were a window into your mind, just begging Joel to decipher their sweet, subtle cues, and right now, from this distance, they were telling him everything he needed to know.

Without the luxury of sunglasses to hide his eyes behind, Joel thought it wise to just make a point of meeting your gaze whenever he felt your eyes on him, allowing his own to wander down your form, looking at you up and down, taking in every detail, appreciating the way your body responded to his presence. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. That’s it babygirl, he thought to himself as he watched you swallow, subtly wet your lips and nibble into the side of your lower lip, all within the span of 3 seconds. It all made him shift slightly in his seat, electric charge of desire coursing through the air.

In that fleeting instant, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of you trapped in a bubble of heat and unspoken yearning, skin prickling and electricity buzzing in your ears. Or maybe it’s just heatstroke.

A mixture of nerves and desire washed over you as you tried to maintain your composure. For a moment, your mind went blank, unsure of what to say or why you even approached them, when you should've just - freakin' - waved. It felt as though you’d cave in from the intensity of his gaze. You struggled to keep your focus on Sarah and ignore the way his eyes on you made you feel so deliciously exposed and vulnerable. As you spoke, your voice naturally a little deeper, raspier than he expected, sent an icy-hot thrill down his spine and a satisfied groan only he could hear escaped his chest.

“Hiya,” you managed to greet with a smile and wave, one leg going behind the other, clasped hands moving to your back, your body instinctively shifting into a slightly more timid posture. You didn't seem like you went out much, or even talked to that many people, despite your big mouth. Joel could see you more clearly now and found these nervous gestures all too endearing. Taking all of you in, Joel’s eyes roamed over your body, over the sky-blue sundress hugging your figure, your sun kissed shoulders bared in the warm breeze, and he almost lets out another groan when he notices the outline of your white, good girl panties underneath, sight only intensifying the swirling desire he feels pooling low in his body.

Joel had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts of you writhing underneath him, skirt of your dress hiked up past your hips, mouth slack and eyes rolling back into your head with pleasure, when he noticed Corolla guy coming over, looking slightly more at ease than earlier. From the gold wedding bands on your ring fingers, Joel immediately clocks Corolla guy as your husband. He felt confusing mixture of unwarranted jealousy painting his vision green and a stupid, childish thrill stirring inside him, both at the same time.

“This is Dax, my husband,” you introduced him with a radiant smile, clasping your husband’s hand in yours and looking at him like the Sun shined out of his ass. Seeing your obvious affection for your husband and that dainty little goddamn cross around your neck should’ve made Joel back down. And usually it would’ve, but this time it only somehow intensified the complexity of his emotions, made Joel really wonder what you're made of. His stupid desire for you was a little too consuming, tempting him, pushing him into territories that would've usually felt very un-Joel-like. “We just came down from Dallas,” you continue, and Joel can’t tell if you’re talking to all of them, or only to him. "Dax gets a little car sick and you won't catch me drivin'," What kinda name is "Dax" anyway??

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Almost Lovers

You had been in love with Eren Jaeger since you were kids. Over the years, you've had multiple chances to get together, but nothing has happened. How long can you wait for him to do something ?

Read on AO3 here

It was impossible to think about your upbringing without thinking about Eren Jaeger.

The two of you had first met when you were about to turn four. Your family had moved across the country, your Dad getting a promotion which prompted you to pack up and leave. Although you were small at the time, completely unaware of the change, you still remember the awe on your face when you came to a stop in front of your new home. It was a beautiful, two story home with a neatly manicured lawn in a quiet suburban neighborhood.

Your parents were busy guiding the movers, instructing them to place furniture in certain rooms. They had immediately set up the porch furniture, placing you on the bench before resuming their previous activity. Your little legs had been swinging aimlessly, humming to yourself as you watched the movers go in and out.

“Hello there!”

A woman was standing at the foot of the driveway, a plate of cookies in one hand. Her other hand was placed gently on the shoulders of the boy hiding behind her legs. Your Mom, upon hearing the voice, came rushing out. The two fell into an easy conversation, introducing each other before she was led to where you were sitting.

“Honey, this is Eren. He’s our neighbor from across the street!”

The first thing you noticed about Eren was his eyes. They were big on his face, staring at you wide-eyed with a pair of beautiful, cerulean eyes. His thick brows were furrowed, his lips pulled into a frown.

“Hi, Eren.”

You two were inseparable from that moment.

The two of you held hands on the first day of preschool, wailing loudly whenever the teacher tried to separate you two. Throughout elementary school, the two of you always chased each other on the playground. When you moved onto middle school, the two of you still hung out in between classes, occupying the same lunch table as you laughed loudly with your new friends Armin and Mikasa. High school was no different, even with the throes of puberty.

Eren hit his growth spurt during Christmas break of sophomore year. He had gone to Turkey to visit his mother’s family, and when you finally saw him on the first day back your mouth went dry. Eren had always been lanky, never quite fitting into his average height. Now he was well over six feet, shoulders broader and arms bigger as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“How was your break?”

His voice had dropped two octaves, now a deep, sultry tone. You had swallowed nervously, trying to pat the top of his head awkwardly.

“I guess the puberty fairy finally hit you,” you had said nervously.

This change caused a shift in your friendship. The two of you remained close, but there was now a sort of . . . tension in the air. Everyone teased the two of you, always asking when you would finally get together. You had always brushed it off, rolling your eyes as you bumped shoulders with Eren.

“Me? Dating Eren? Gross.”

The reality was you had been in love with him since the day you had started puberty. It was such a stereotype, you knew, but the hormones that were suddenly flooding your body had your eyes opening wide to Eren Jaeger. He was suddenly your dream guy, every little thing he did always being scrutinized by you. When you started high school, everything was ramped up to one hundred. The time you two spent alone had you nervous, wondering if he would finally wake up and realize you were the one for him. Whenever his hands brushed against you when you were walking home, or when he wrapped his arm around you when it was cold, you felt your heart beating so fast you were afraid it would burst out of your chest.

The two of you had gone to Prom together because, well, who else would you two go with? When he had pulled you close, his hands placed gently on your waist, you had fought the urge to kiss him. Instead, you placed your head on his chest, turning your head to peer up at him.

“I’m really happy right now,” you had murmured.

He had smiled in response, nuzzling his face against the top of your head.

“Me too.”

When you both decided to attend the same college, you figured maybe now would be the time for Eren to reciprocate your feelings. Unbeknownst to you, Eren had been in love with you since the day you had met. He had remembered your shy face, staring at him as he had tried to hide behind his mother’s legs. The two of you had the same interests and had countless playdates together. He had loved chasing you in elementary school, watching your hair flow behind you as you ran away. During middle school, he had taken note of the small changes you were going through - your face thinning out, your hips widening, and your chest slowly growing. When he hit his growth spurt in high school, he had been satisfied to see the look of surprise on your face upon seeing him. On Prom night, holding you in his arms, he realized he wanted to be by your side forever. With college approaching, he wondered if it would be worth the risk to tell you about his true feelings. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if you met someone else?

To bury his feelings, Eren began dating in college. And he dated. Eren Jaeger was known throughout your campus as a notorious playboy. He and Armin were roommates, but the poor blond was often kicked out so Eren could fool around. You always offered your room to Armin since you were rooming with Mikasa. Your heart always broke upon hearing him complain about the “girl of the week” and how a new one would be showing up next. It wasn’t uncommon to see Eren making out with girls at the parties you attended, his arm always wrapped around them tight before they sauntered off to hook up. You always watched it happen with sad eyes, taking a long swig of your drink in an effort to forget.

The two of you had drifted apart, and you each blamed school. The reality was that you didn’t have the heart to face Eren, and he was ashamed to see you. Every girl he slept with just wasn’t you, and he feared that he was in too deep to confess his feelings to you. You weren’t sure what your reaction would be if he began talking about his latest conquest, so you avoided him.

Meanwhile you remained single. You threw yourself into your studies, determined to graduate at the top of your class and get some sort of internship related to your major. When you weren’t in class, you were at the library or in a study room in your dorm. Eren always casually asked Mikasa if you were seeing anyone, to which she always replied with a frown and the same question.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Eren didn’t want to know the answer.

The only time the two of you ever crossed paths consistently and talked was at parties. Eren was out every weekend, while you did once you got enough school work done. He wasn’t a lightweight per se, but he drank enough to the point that he was juuust drunk enough. When that happened he always stumbled over to you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I miss you,” he would murmur. “We used to be so close.”

“Yeah,” you would reply. “I know.”

You would always pat his back awkwardly, which would just prompt him to pull you closer. Your heart would beat faster, his familiar smell engulfing you and making your throat constrict. He would kiss your forehead, pushing your hair back to smile goofily down at you.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

Every single time, a part of you would give in, but the sane part of you always took over. You would shake your head, trying to take a step back.

“You’re drunk, Eren.”

“So? I know what I’m doing.”

You would flush at the double entendre.

“No, Eren, it’s okay.”

A flash of hurt would cross his face before he would disentangle himself from you and go find another girl instead. You would watch as he found a girl, making out with her before disappearing. You would take a long swig of your drink, heartbroken and desperate to forget.

Freshman year ended uneventfully, and sophomore year of college came around. You continued to room with Mikasa while Eren remained with Armin. He seemed to get slightly serious, spending more time hitting the books instead of on girls. He began accompanying you and Armin to study sessions, and the two of you began falling back into your old patterns. He would hold your backpack for you as you walked and always made sure to bring your favorite drink before going to the library. When you got cold from the library AC, he would remove his sweater and give it to you, wrapping an arm around you to try and warm you up.

Armin would watch in amusement, quirking an eyebrow at the two of you.

“Jeez, get a room already.”

The both of you would flush, stuttering out denials before looking away and refusing to look at each other again. Armin would chuckle, placing his study materials out before reminding you two to do the same.

Movie nights were the same. You and Eren always cuddled up together, leading Mikasa and Armin to ask if they should leave to give you two privacy. This resulted in pillows being thrown at their heads, which they always dodged with a laugh.

Eren wasn’t seen with as many girls, and he focused on hanging out with you and the rest of your friends instead. He wouldn’t get as drunk but maintained a good level where he could enjoy himself. On the few occasions where he did get drunk he continued his prior actions of hugging you tightly and asking to go home with him. You were always so close now to saying yes, yes please Eren, take me home, but it just didn’t feel right.

You felt as if there was some weird back and forth with Eren now. When asked about his dating life, he would shrug and say he simply wasn’t as interested anymore. His attention had seemed to shift to you, and you felt as if you were kids again. You relished in his touches, always leaning subconsciously into him. You looked forward to movie nights, cuddling tightly into his side and inhaling his scent. Sometimes his hands would find yours under the blanket, interlacing your fingers and not letting go for the entire movie.

You were falling in love with him all over again.

The only person you talked to about this was Mikasa. She urged you to just tell him already.

“You don’t see the way he looks at you!”

“I don’t know, Mikasa,” you had sighed. “What if I just misread everything?”

“Then the both of you are really stupid.”

First semester of sophomore year came to an end, and your second semester began. You were finishing up your general education classes and were beginning to take classes for your major, which was taking up more of your time. Mikasa made sure to take you out when your stress levels got too high, dragging you by the arm away from your desk and into your shared bathroom.

“Go take a shower and make yourself look hot!”

Parties were now a part of your social schedule, and your tolerance for alcohol was now greatly established. You enjoyed yourself, laughing with your friends as you played beer pong or danced together. Eren always made sure to cling close, his hands always on some part of your skin as the night went on.

Your conversation with Mikasa still echoed in your head. You don’t see the way he looks at you! Anytime you were with Eren, you tried to catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye. It was during a St. Patrick’s Day party that you finally realized what Mikasa had meant. Eren’s eyes immediately softened upon seeing you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he stared at you. It was like the world slowed down for him when he looked at you, and you realized you needed to tell him how you felt before it was too late.

You were dreading the conversation, and you began to distance yourself from Eren out of fear. He had noticed, always looking for you whenever you were out but you always managed to slip away. It was the last party before Spring Break when he finally managed to catch you.

The nights were cool, the last chill of Winter finally behind you. You were on the patio of Jean’s house, leaning against the railing as you took in the sight of the college town below you. Sighing, you pressed your cheek against your hand as the muffled sound of the party behind you rang on. The door slid open, and you figured someone was coming out to smoke.

“Hey.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. You slowly turned your head to see Eren standing there, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

“Hi.”

He slowly walked up to you, coming to stand beside you and lean against the railing too. It was silent for a moment as you both drank in the night.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed a moment,” you said, giving him a fake smile.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you say that?” you frowned.

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you lied.

It was silent again, but you broke the silence this time.

“Are you okay? Why did you decide to come out?”

He hesitated before sighing, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, I got into it with Hana. We’ve been trying to get back together, but it’s not going too well.”

You felt your heart shatter in your chest. Hana was the one girl that Eren seemed to always go back to, regardless of how many other girls he hooked up with. There was something about her that always drew him back, and you were usually told about the situation from him directly or through Armin.

“Is that right,” you mumbled.

“We’re not quite on the same page yet.”

Yet.

“Uh huh. Why do you think that is?”

You felt yourself going numb at your question. Damn you.

“Well, um, we’ve just been on and off for so long I don’t quite think we ever established what it is we wanted out of the relationship.”

“What do you want from her, Eren?”

He blinked, swiveling his head to look at you.

“What?”

“The question isn’t complicated.”

“I-I, I guess I don’t know.”

“So why are you wasting her time?”

He frowned, turning his body to face you.

“I like her. We get along really well. Sometimes I feel like I can’t stay away from her.”

Something snapped inside of you, and instead of confessing your feelings for him, the frustration of your will we won’t we relationship bubbled up to the surface.

“What the fuck are we doing, Eren?”

He began to blink rapidly, green eyes wide with confusion.

“What do you mean? We’re talking, I’m telling you about -”

“I don’t mean that,” you whispered. “I mean about us.”

The silence between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He was at a loss for words, eyes slowly turning to look down at his feet. His silence spurred you on, hot, angry tears silently rolling down your face.

“I’ve been in love with you since the summer before sixth grade. I woke up one day and realized you are the only person I want to be with. I pined after you in middle school, and I hoped that things would change in high school.”

His gaze had lifted to meet your face, watching as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“I thought everyone teasing us would make you realize that I was the one for you. I waited for you to confess to me. When we went to Prom together, I almost confessed my love for you then. Instead, I chickened out and told you I was just happy. That was my way of confessing to you, Eren.”

He remained silent, letting you vent without interruptions.

“Then we came to college, and I lost you immediately. I lost you to all the girls you took to bed. It was like you weren’t the Eren I knew anymore. So I gave up. I threw myself into school and tried to forget you. But it was so hard when you were always making an effort to make out with them in front of me.”

Hurt immediately crossed his face at your words, but he continued to remain silent.

“But then you came back. It was like nothing had happened, and we were back like before college. I thought I finally had my chance. I even told Mikasa about this whole situation to see if this was all in my head. She encouraged me to confess to you, and I was going to soon.”

You stood up straight, sniffling as you angrily wiped at your tears.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore, Eren. I’m tired. My heart is tired. I have to either let you go or keep chasing after you, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Finally finished, you stared at him, your tears finally drying. Eren didn’t say anything, his face flickering through various emotions. You barked out a laugh, shaking your head as you pushed past him.

“Incredible. I’ve just opened my heart to you and you just don’t care. I should have known.”

“Wait -”

“It’s too late, Eren,” you said, voice flat. “Don’t bother coming after me.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before going back into Jean’s house, squeezing through the throngs of party goers as you made your way outside to the front. The walk back to your dorm wasn’t too far, and it gave you time to clear your head and let the rest of your tears fall uninterrupted. You sobbed into your sleeve, shaking your head as Eren’s face as you had spoken playing repeatedly in your head.

By the time you got back to your dorm, you had dozens of missed calls and about fifty texts from Eren. You hadn’t bothered to open your texts, opting instead to leave him on delivered. His texts were all the same, asking you to call him back and apologizing for not saying anything to you sooner. You shut off your phone, crawling into bed and falling into a fitful sleep.

***

A week went by, but you refused to leave your bed.

Mikasa was worried about you, urging you to at least get up and eat a small meal, but you refused. You sent an email to your professors stating you were suffering from a stomach bug, and they insisted that you rest up and focus on your course work later. Most of the day was spent sleeping, only waking up to use the restroom and drink some water before going back to sleep. Mikasa begged Armin to stop by and try talking to you, but it made no difference. In between fits of sleep, you overheard them whispering whenever he stopped by about Eren and how he had “fucked up the whole situation”.

You had kept your phone off, knowing that Eren would keep trying to contact you. There had been one time where he had actually showed up at your door, but Mikasa had angrily sent him away.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?”

The following Sunday after the party, you finally pulled yourself out of bed. Mikasa had been out late, so she was asleep as you walked on shaky legs into the bathroom. You took a long, hot shower, taking your time to deep wash your hair and shave your entire body. The reflection in the mirror showed how hurt you looked, but you swore that you would never let anyone else break your heart the way that Eren had.

When you returned to your room, Mikasa was sitting up, rubbing her eyes as she let out a big yawn. She studied you silently for a minute before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’ll treat us to breakfast. You should eat something small.”

She didn’t ask any questions while you ate, which you were thankful for. When you got back to your dorm, she braided your hair and pulled out her self-care kit. The day was spent pampering yourselves, and you felt ready and refreshed to throw yourself back into the semester.

You avoided parties on the weekends and opted to stay in watching Netflix. You were trying to do whatever you could to avoid Eren, and so far, you had been successful. When you weren’t studying, you were with Mikasa, Sasha, and Connie. Jean had begun hanging around, and the two of you began getting close. Eren had always started arguments whenever he was around Jean, so you had never been able to have a full conversation with him.

It didn’t take long before a spark developed between you two. He was funny, kind, and incredibly smart. The two of you began studying together, sitting quietly next to each other as you furiously poured over your work. He would treat you to dinner after, and the two of you spent the rest of the night laughing and creating inside jokes. His family came from the wealthier side of the town you had grown up in, but it meant that you would be able to see him once school was out.

The two of you officially began dating during Finals week. You were excited to spend the summer with him free of stress from school. Word got around quickly in your friend group, eventually getting to Eren. Things with Hana had quickly fallen apart, and he had spent the rest of the semester beating himself up for ruining things with you. He had tried to contact you non-stop, but Mikasa had told him it was for the best if he stopped.

“She’s moved on,” she had told him. “She’s left you behind.”

Upon hearing that you and Jean were together, Eren felt his heart break. He had been hoping the time apart would be healthy for you two, and he had hoped to try again with you at the start of junior year. Instead, he would have to settle with the fact that he had lost you forever.

[villain-sympathizer]

Your twice x reader was so cute to read, so I wonder if you could write something like that again!

him and reader where they are both doing silly, normal things laughing, when all of the sudden one of his personalities reveals what he's trying to hide: confessing his love

Of course only when you have time for that :)

YES!!! oh my GOD thats such a cute idea, thank you for this

the last few weeks have been so stressful and hell on my mental health, so i think i and everyone else deserve some good ol' Twice fluff 💕

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

[Twice x GN!Reader] [Contents: Jin’s dual personality; and pure tooth-rotting fluff!] [Word count: 1.1k]

»»—— Loves me, Loves me Not (Except he does) ——««

Moving into a new place is always a hassle for everyone involved. Hiring movers, packing, loading, unloading, unpacking, and then having to spend the next month or more attempting to acclimate to the new surroundings and feelings of displacement. But moving in with your significant other for the first time? It makes it just a little more bearable. Furniture shopping, deciding on décor, playful bickering over if a stiffer or softer mattress is better – the little things that make the journey more enjoyable. Said journey is made even more enjoyable when one’s significant other is no other than Jin Bubaigawara, a comedically eccentric man who, despite his crumbling mental state, knows just how to liven up any event regardless of it’s theme. He knew the perfect ways to “spice up” a mundane task, as he puts it, which really just consists of making a fool of himself intentionally. But it gets his friends to laugh and smile, so he does what he can for them. This is no different for his lover, [Name], either.

Shopping trip after shopping trip of buying necessities can get boring and draining real fast. Groceries, hygiene needs, kitchen sets, furniture, frames for pictures and posters, hardware for hanging said framed pictures and posters – the list seemingly never ends. Jin, however, was always determined to keep their spirits high, by any means necessary. Pretending to be a furniture sales agent and giving the most obvious or bullshit details about a couch they’re looking at, or poking fun at whatever weird-looking object they happen to come across in their shopping spree. He once tried to do consecutive backflips off a line of beds in one of the furniture outlets he and his partner went to, and likely would have succeeded in that task had it not been for the employee yelling at them both to leave.

“What a party pooper – What an asshole!” Jin had said then, with a pout that resembled a child being scolded by their parent for just wanting to have fun. [Name] merely patted his shoulder in assurance, shepherding him off to the next destination.

“They just don’t understand what it means to be in love and have fun,” [Name] had responded with, not knowing the weight their words had just put on Jin’s mind. A good weight, but one that leaves you feeling both anxious and giddy, eager to share your thoughts but scared to have them rejected.

Love. Jin knew he was in love with them, had known since the day they first spoke to each other. But when was a good time to say it? When do normal people say they love their partner? Jin was no normal person, what much was clear – quirk trauma, villainous background, and an incredibly lonely past can do a number on ones behavior. He was ready to propose to them right off the bat, if they were as starved for affection as he was; but [Name] was normal, as far as he could tell, and Jin wanted to give them a regular-paced relationship. So far moving in with each other is a huge step… but did couples confess their love before or after that? Is it still too early, or was he too late? Does he say it now, or wait till marriage? These were the kinds of thoughts that weighed heavily on his mind, and the closer they got to fully moving into their new apartment, the more obvious it was in his attitude.

“Okay, what’s on your mind, big guy?” [Name] released a sigh of relief when the two of them flopped backward onto their new shared bed, the box spring and frame finally set up and the mattress covered with brand new sheets and a comforter to match. “You’ve been quiet and distracted these last few days. Distracted I’m used to, but the quiet part is very unlike you,” they mention, turning their head to gaze over at him.

Jin blinks out of his stupor, not moving to look at his partner and opting to continue staring at the ceiling. “Nothing! Nothing at all – well, maybe something – nope! Totally fine, just tired,” he rambles, his second personality cutting in occasionally. “Been a long week, y’know? Fuckin’ exhausted as hell – just lots to do, and still more to be done! Ugh, just kill me now.” Finally, he turns and gives them a reassuring grin, eyes squinted in content as he gazes softly at them. I love you, I love you, I love you, his mind chanted, the words begging to be released since the day they met.

[Name] raises an eyebrow, returning the grin back to him. “Yeah, me too, I understand. Almost over, though, so don’t worry!” They chirp, tone shifting briefly from tired to lighthearted in an attempt to comfort the other.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Ha! Yeah, you could say that again,” Jin mirrors their tone, stretching his arms a bit before relaxing again against the bed.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

[Name] shifts their position so that they can cuddle up to his side, head resting against his pec and arm draped over his chest. Jin’s arm reaches out to wrap around their shoulder.

I love you, I love you, I love you –

“I love you,” Jin’s second voice blurts out, his free hand immediately snapping up to cover his mouth in panic. He feels [Name] jolt slightly from the sudden movement, though Jin took it as a sign of shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- well, I guess I did mean to – God, I love you – fuck, I mean…!” He rambles yet again, the words pouring from his mouth as he attempts to explain a situation that didn’t need an explanation, the hand that was over his mouth now nervously running through his hair. “I… it’s… it’s not too early to say that, is it?” He asks tentatively.

Feeling his partner shift around and lift themselves up, Jin’s eyes flick towards them, waiting for an answer. Instead of the shocked, uncomfortable expression he was expecting, the blonde man was instead greeted by his lover’s look of fond confusion. The kind of look that says, ‘You’re such a dork, but a cute one’.

“Too early? Jin, babe, we just moved in together. I was honestly getting worried at this point,” [Name] grins brightly at him, leaning in to touch their nose to his. “I love you too, you dork.”

Jin blinks owlishly at them, letting the words settle into his heart as it swells with adoration, a goofy smile stretching across his face. “You love me…? Who wouldn’t?!” The words of his second side were boisterous and proud, though they both know it was a ruse to cover his obvious anxiety over the situation. Gathering up [Name] in a bear hug, he laughs as they squeak in surprise, but quickly join in his laughter as Jin rocks them side to side within the hug.

“They love me! They love me!”

Then again, who wouldn't?