#i was listening to their songs all day at work and just found out about the news a hour ago

[rosemariiaa]

~In this Unsaid~

pairing: Paige x Azzi

a/n: yea.. we’re here again and not at part 6 of my other fic, i procrastinate too much but i will start writing the chapter tomorrow 💌 also a tag for my baby ke @thaatdigitaldiary because she’s a lot of help and loves listening to me yap 💌

Song: Welcome and Goodbye- Dream, Ivory

theme- angst

Enjoy!!!

The gym echoes with the laughter of teammates, but all Paige could hear was the pounding of her heart. She sat on the bleachers and glared, watching Azzi joke and laugh with the others. It was maddening how easily they seemed to connect while she felt the weight of many unsaid words pressing down.

After practice, as the group began to go their separate ways, Paige found Azzi leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a mask of indifference hiding the storm underneath. Taking a breath that felt heavy in her chest, Paige finally approached the brunette.

“Why do you keep pretending everything’s fine?” The words slipped out, sharper than she intended.

Azzi didn’t look up. She couldn’t. Her gaze was fixed on the floor. “I’m not pretending. Just… tired, I guess.”

“Tired of what? Me? Us?” Paige stepped closer, frustration bubbling. “Because I can’t keep doing this back-and-forth. It’s exhausting Az.” Finally, Azzi met her gaze, anger flaring. “You think I want to feel like this? You think I enjoy watching you pull away?”

“Then why don’t you say something? Anything. I just want to know how you feel.”

“What do you want me to say?” Azzi’s voice trembled. “That I can’t stop thinking about you? That every time I see you, it hurts because I know it’s not enough?”

Paige’s heart dropped at the confession. “It’s not enough for me either. I keep wishing we could just… figure it out.”

“But we never do!” Azzi exclaimed, her voice cracking. “We keep circling around this, and it’s killing me. I’m scared of losing you completely.”

Paige felt tears prick her eyes. “You won’t lose me. I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t keep waiting for you to decide what you want.”

Azzi swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I already know, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Oh.

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken truths. Paige took a step closer, the distance between them feeling both tantalizingly close and impossibly far. She could feel the heat radiating off Azzi, tension crackling like static.

Before the moment could dissolve, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of practice. The spell broke, leaving only the echoes of their conversation hanging in the air.

———-

Days blurred as Paige prepared to leave for a tournament. The night before her departure, she lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts of Azzi flooding her mind like a tide pulling her under. They’d both been avoiding each other since that confrontation, and the silence felt like a chasm between them.

The next morning, at the airport, she felt her heart in her throat as she spotted Azzi across the terminal, standing like a beacon in the chaos. Paige’s breath hitched, a mix of longing and dread washing over her.

Azzi walked over, her expression a careful mask. “You came,” she said softly.

“I had to,” Paige replied, voice trembling. “I didn’t want to leave things like this.”

They stood there, surrounded by bustling travelers, but it was just them in that moment. The noise faded into the background as they locked eyes.

“This doesn’t feel real,” Paige said, struggling to hold back tears. “Like, I’m really leaving, and we’re just… here.”

Azzi’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “I hate this. I hate that it always ends like this.”

“I thought things would change. That we’d find a way to make it work,” Paige’s voice was thick with emotion.

“And what if we don’t? What if this is just… it? Another goodbye?” Azzi’s voice cracked, the vulnerability tearing at Paige’s heart.

“I don’t want it to be. I wish I could take you with me, but…” Paige’s words faltered, a sob threatening to escape.

“But you can’t. I can’t. It’s never been that easy for us,” Azzi replied, her tone heavy with resignation. Paige stepped closer, desperation in her gaze. “I’ll always care about you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but caring isn’t enough.” Azzi’s voice broke as tears slipped down her cheeks.

As Paige stepped back, silence enveloped them, thick with everything left unspoken. She turned to leave but paused, glancing back one last time. Their eyes met, filled with unvoiced feelings, aching and raw.

“Maybe next time we’ll finally say what we mean,” Paige whispered.

“And what if next time never comes?” Azzi’s voice was barely a breath, filled with dread.

With that, Paige turned and walked away, each step feeling like a piece of her heart was left behind. The weight of goodbye settled in, a haunting melody that would follow her long after she left.

The air felt colder without Azzi’s presence. As Paige walked towards her gate, the echo of their unfinished story lingered in her mind—a welcome and a goodbye, forever intertwined, lost in the spaces they could never seem to bridge.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/24/2024

you might be wondering “is my dear friend tumblr user girlfriendsofthegalaxy still unemployed?” the answer is yes. take this cat off my hands please i don’t think he’s causing the unemployment but he certainly isn’t helping

listening

via Wendy @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, Huoy Meas' ប្រគល់ក្ដីស្នេហ៍មកខ្ញុំវិញ. figuring out what this incredibly zippy Cambodian rock song is named and what it's about was really difficult bc spotify is a bane upon this earth and won't let you fucking copy-paste and OCR was not working on the Khmer script. i ended up listening to the first couple seconds of each of her songs on apple music, and finally figured out this roughly translates to Give Me Back My Love and is about begging a fuckboy for closure.

via the spotify discover weekly, Night Club's Pretty Girls Do Ugly Things. all Night Club's songs sound the same so if you like one, great news! i had this song on for a full gregorian hour bc, i am only a tiny bit ashamed to say, i was storyboarding a The Man With No Name fancam to this. i think it would go pretty hard.

Smoke you like a cigarette Choke you like a lariat Fatalistic tourniquet Do you want more?

-

reading

thank you mackintosh.

i did not Adore any of these comics from the library. i sort of enjoyed Night of the Ghoul, a one-volume TPB by Scott Snyder and Francesco Francavilla. i think ive blogged about this before but every once in a while i'll get a bee in my bonnet to read some horror comics even though i am a giant baby about horror movies.

Night of the Ghoul is about how you can't save your dad from PTSD but also about a lost horror film and also about the extremely dad behavior of tracking down every scrap of info about an auteur. there's also a monster.

the subtle art changes from present day to the remains of the film to the non-film flashbacks are well done, imo. the cover screams mignola but the inside pages are really fun pulp nonsense. i love a piece of genre writing that rolls around and delights in being a piece of genre writing.

im doing my level best not to get sucked into tiktok but i DO love watching this lady revive antique nail polish and look for dupes for shades from like the 20s. she found an almost exact dupe for a shade produced during wwii which is crazy insane to me!!!

-

watching

The Asphalt Jungle (1950, dir. Huston), it's a very painterly heist noir. i even like Sterling Hayden in one of the more prominent roles, even though i think he generally has the appeal of undercooked dough.

much like Fritz Lang's M, it presents the criminal element of the city as its own class with its own reputation and reference systems. it got in some trouble with the censors for having a VERY clearly laid out heist plan and execution. it's also got the babiest Marilyn Monroe in one of her earliest roles

this was such a gloriously messy movie. everyone is such a fucking mess. this woman only known as Doll is heartbreakingly, head over heels in love with Sterling Hayden's character. she's a little flighty and bumbling and silly, but determined! they're constantly orbiting the gravitational weight of her desire for this man and desire for a real life with this man. and that's just one subplot! she has maybe five minutes total screentime! she should have gotten a supporting actress oscar!!! everyone acted their fucking hearts out and it was so much fun to watch!

-

playing

monument valley is in the netflix games library this month (i don't actually know what their liscencing agreements would even look like, they and the studios they worked with were very tightlipped about that when they were rolling this out three years ago) but i assume it's going to be on the service for a while. i have never played this game, which makes me feel a little bit like a bad gamer. you can tell it's ten years old from some of the color and texture choices, but WOW did literally everyone take inspiration from this game.

this is the platonic ideal of a phone game. i get why everyone went insane about it and there was a brief boom of geometry-based puzzle mobile games. it is MUCH much harder now to get people to pay money to play a game that has a planned endpoint and planned number of levels, so netflix is a good home for it.

i was often frustrated but always delighted. the level below involves making something happening that made me genuinely gasp out loud in glee. well worth the annoyance of downloading the netflix app and scrolling through the poorly labeled and poorly sorted carousel of games.

great retrospective, a bit about how you need to have tiny teams go off and just kind of fuck around and bring weird stuff back, and a lot about how they actually designed the levels

The end result had a pixel-perfect axonometric aesthetic that not only went hard on its references to Dutch master artist and printmaker Maurits Cornelis Escher, but also dug deep into classic video game design, going right back to early arcade machines and 8-bit titles. Each of the ten levels is like a piece of fine furniture, built with invisible dovetail joints and inlaid with marquetry, stuffed with secret compartments and little design flourishes. Gray cites the world of theatre and stage design, as well as graphics, as important keystones in the way the levels were constructed. ‘Ken would always talk about flower arranging, and how you frame a silhouette of a level on the screen,’ he says.

-

making

update on the Phantom Menace fabric: pinked the raw edges and threw it in the laundry again with a very large quantity of vinegar. 50% poly was too high for it to really do anything, which is interesting. it didn’t lessen the seam edge effects either, which is a little annoying bc the seams were so gigantic and that’s a good chunk of fabric to lose. i am going to buy a camp shirt pattern at some point when i have money again but for now it goes in The Box

also! thrifted a pack of o-rings for jars for a dollar and finally put my grains etc in my pretty jars. they’re going to live in the pantry but today they live out on the countertop

[honeyvenommusic]

❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-

[army-loves-eachother]

Today's news about Moonbin is absolutely heartbreaking. I honestly just found out about it and my mind doesn't want to believe it's even real. I've been a Aroha since their debut and even though I don't personally know Binnie its always been obvious to me that he was such a genuinely kind and caring person. The way he interacted with his members, talked about his family, his fans, and his dedication to his work/hobbies you can see how much he genuinely loved the people around him and his passions. You can never know what someone is going through even if they smile and laugh everyday. I can't imagine the pain that his family, Astro, and friends are going through. I just hope that they can get the privacy and all the love during this time. Binnie you joined the stars too early but I hope your living in a galaxy filled with the enormous amount of love and comfort you have given to everyone else. Thank you Moonbin our lovely star in the sky. 💜

[pucksandpower]

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[moondancediner]

Love of my Life

summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret

jake seresin x reader

word count: 1490

warnings: no editing, fluff

a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord

song rec: love of my life - harry styles

masterlist

It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect. 

Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting. 

And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him. 

You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them. 

After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future. 

You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake. 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink. 

“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell. 

“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down. 

“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?” 

“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.” 

“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.

“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs. 

“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time. 

“Well, what are you doing over here then?”

“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.” 

“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband. 

A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap. 

“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.” 

“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on. 

“When did this song get added to the jukebox?” 

“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought. 

The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds. 

“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew. 

Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to. 

“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”

You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.” 

There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!” 

“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.” 

“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly. 

You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”

“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up. 

Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day. 

Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near. 

“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her. 

Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.” 

You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago. 

When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.” 

Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight. 

---

thanks for reading ily

Requests are open 🫶🏻

[dreamesamu]

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. msby!miya atsumu x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, long scenario sets in post-timeskip!

warning(s): reader is nice and overworks herself. not proofhead i apologize

author’s note: It's kind of not what i had imagined but hope you enjoy it.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

another cliché beginning for the person you are right now - the MSBY team manager - is that you’ve loved the miya atsumu since high school. it’s not like being the team’s manager isn’t your dream, you loved this job and had been dying to do it because you’ve loved volleyball, too. plus, you will have the opportunity to stay close and take care of the team, especially your crush who just merely thinks you are his best friend.

you first laid eyes on him when you were sitting alone on the subway, his dyed-blonde locks caught your attention as he first talked to you about the chase atlantic’s song you were listening to, he was cute, warm and friendly. at that moment, you were verified that he wasn’t the guy who was fond of his fan girls that everybody had been rumoring about. He eventually found out that you guys went to the same high school, so as to start a new beginning of your bonding friendship.

It wasn’t long until you finally realized that you might have adored the pretty setter a little too much than usual. his touches, his smile, the way he calls your name and his genuine characteristics when he was used to you being around seemed a little bit more easy to flutter your heart than every other day. Ever since then, you just hid your feelings and was grateful for what you got right then because you knew that if you confess, you couldn’t get this best friend treatment that you silently fell for for any longer.

You impressed yourself for even keep it until now. you and him are mature and beautiful, but you still can’t help but feel so ‘high school’ when you look at him. the least thing you could do for a friend (crush) is care for him through bottles of flavored electrolyte water, preparing his favorite after-practice snacks and even cool and soft towels to calm the heat down after a match. However, it seems like mr. miya doesn’t notice all of the hard work you did for him, he was so used to be taken care of by you that he accidentally failed to realize the special treatment only for him but nobody else.

“Hey, tired yet? you can call it a day for now if you want?” you smiled, hand over his bottle of water you prepared for him to the softly panting atsumu taking a break on the bench. He is quite preoccupied with his earlier techniques that he need to improve, he only spares you a glance then takes the bottle to drink without saying any words, you assume that he is in a bad mood.

“oh, and” you search for the thing in your bag. “here, your towel”

he nods and takes it, it makes you feel awkward. that’s… all…? You try to not overthink yourself, after all, it was quite a tense match, and the fact that your team will have an important volleyball game the next month proves his concerns are valid.

you watch atsumu leave when hinata shoyo came up to you.

“oh? isn’t that our manager?” you startle at his voice. “hehe, please don’t mind tsumu at all, please, he just got pissed because he made a mistake during practice” the sunshine grins, having him around surely just brighten everything up, because he is just so sweet and comfortable to be with.

“no, no,… I really don’t mind at all, actually” you know atsumu better than anyone so you don’t take his actions to heart sometimes, it’s just…

“oi, oi! I know what you’re thinking, I saw you overthere doing things for tsumu. This guy, honestly…” Hinata sure saw you earlier with enthusiasm written on all over your face while preparing those towels and bottles, he felt bad for you and decided to cheer you up regardless atsumu has just cracked your poor heart a little.

“It’s okay, hinata. thank you for checking on me!” you smile wide, so my efforts wasn’t invalidated at all, gratefully bow down to see the awkward hinata trying to stutter words out.

“no- no, don’t do that, you are our manager, that’s just nothing! besides, seeing you give tsumu so special treatment makes me real jealous!!” he huffs cutely. “I really want that flavored electrolyte water, too! what a shame he wouldn’t notice.”

you laugh sheepishly as you guys return to your dorms to rest. things have been going hard for you like crazy, the work amount weighing on your shoulders make it almost unbearable, but you still stay strong and put a warm smile on your face so nobody would notices. you have been thinking of retiring just in case the situation just got worse to the level of destroying your mental health. but, by thinking of your small joy of seeing atsumu everyday, you hesitated.

your sleepless nights start when the important games take a step closer, you overworked yourself and often feel burnt out, your time with atsumu narrows as you find it hard to start a conversation even in lunch break. atsumu does feel weird. why isn’t y/n sit with us? she is nowhere to be found these days.

“hey, tsum-tsum” said bokuto. “what do you think of y/n?” he said, putting a tray of food on the table while making his way to sit.

“y/n? what’s with her?” the fake blond raises a brow, munching on his food

“I think she’s so cute and thoughtful, base on her affection for you, i betcha she’s completely smitten” the owl laughs as the other teammates giggle along. “you should consider on dating her, what a waste if you don’t, she’s literally girlfriend material, same thoughts huh, hinata?” he winks and the tangerine head give him back a thumbs up.

“dating y/n, huh?” atsumu laughs as if he doesn’t take bokuto’s statements seriously. “I don’t date my friends, you know. besides, y/n is just a close friend of mine, she ain’t my type”

“heartless tsumu… she worked so hard for you these days…” hinata fake crying when talking about you

“I know that she makes snacks and does things for me, but sometimes, that’s just unnecessary, i don’t need it to be all the damn time, it feels a little annoying, i just need to be alone to refresh my thoughts” he sighs. “now you told me to consider on dating her, i wouldn’t know how long i can take it.”

now there is dead silence following his statement, everybody just awkwardly continues finishing their lunch, and you do know eavesdropping is a thing that you shouldn’t do. but you did. before you even notice, hot streams cover your face and you feel your breath hitches. the coach sends you to check on the team at such wrong timing, you can’t face them, the voices earlier destroy your confidence, replace it with angst and hurt. so… what i did is just a bother to him, huh. you realize now, that you were such a dumbass trying to make him catch feeling by all of this. and with the tiniest amount of pride left, you back up a smile and step into the cafeteria, the atmosphere suddenly feels tense as everybody hasn’t been moving on since their last conversation, atsumu feels an uneasy feeling when he sees you behind him, guilt? he thinks.

“hey… coach sent me to check up on you guys, please be well rested at your dorms after lunch, we have practice match at 2pm, alright?” your voice evidently trembles, you try cover it up with some fake coughs. oh, who are you kidding? it’s atsumu miya we’re talking about. he first notices how your eyes are a bit swollen, have you been crying? your tired figure due to sleepless nights, the way you haven’t eaten properly shows right in front of his eyes. he suddenly felt a twinge in his heart, in which moment he never wanted to see you like this, ever again. but, what’s all this for? he doesn’t like you… right? because- you’re his best friend, and caring is what’s best friends do, am I correct?

you left the cafeteria. atsumu feels like his whole head is going to explode, he regrets what he said earlier, knowing seventy per cent that you might have listened to it. he is weak because of guilt and distaste. the group feels uneasy and moody all of a sudden.

“i haven’t told you this before but you’ve seen her now, tsumu… she overworked herself with this huge amount of work with nobody beside her, yet she still maintaining to take care of you with these small gestures.” hinata sighs heavily. “y/n told me not to tell you about her state so you can concentrate on practising, but I’m really worried because now she can’t even hide it anymore. I tried to help, but she pushed me away and told me that i should do my own practices as our game is going to start soon.”

hinata pats atsumu’s back before leaving as if he’s signalling him to make it up to you. atsumu started to cry at this point. how could he be so clueless? he didn’t even know that his best friend was undergoing such pressure, yet why does the term “best friend” sound so irritating? he felt like he had failed to protect you and worse, hurting your feelings and he regretted it, so badly.

The following day comes, atsumu's first task is to search for you. To his astonishment, you are once more nowhere to be found. he was so preoccupied, his spikes aren’t as good, and he could not concentrate on practising, the coach sent him out, and gave him a moment to rethink by himself. and so, he reaches a staff, asking for information about you.

“Y/n? oh… she’s at the infirmary, we noticed her devastated state so we sent her to the doctor a while ago. now think about it I might write a report to the coach asking him to reduce the amount of work she’s handling.”

“thank you, kind sir. may I be the one who’ll write the report? I’m sure I could convince the coach.”

as the man nods, atsumu bowed goodbye to him and sprints to the infirmary where you’re at. he knows, that if anybody should write a report for you, it must be him. he must protect you because he has just realised it now, he likes you a lot more than he could imagine.

“Y/N!” atsumu slams the door open, he faces you with your eyes widened, startled by the bright window.

“tsumu…?” you softly speak.

atsumu in front of your eyes is the atsumu who tries to hold back his tears, biting his bottom lip as the poor heart lurching somewhere in his stomach but somehow still happy because he has found you.

“hey…” he kneels down on one knee beside you. “i’m sorry, angel” his hand softly squishes the smaller one, it holds back gently on his’

in all of the things you dislike, what you utterly don’t want to deal with is your emotions when you see atsumu looking so vulnerable like this. you instinctually grab a tissue and wipe off the sweat drop on his forehead the moment you see it, atsumu’s worried expression won’t vanish unless you speak up something.

“hey…” you smile. “don’t worry, I’m okay now, tsumu” you fondly touch his face with a hand, and he sinks in your touch, eyes glittering. atsumu intentionally plants a soft kiss on your warm palm and watches you go weak for him.

“i like you, y/n” he sighs. “i don’t want us to be just friends. i want to protect you, want to be the kind of guy who mentally support his girl to help her cope with any pressure.”

he looks up to see your widened eyes, without a response, he continues.

“i’m sorry i said the things i didn’t mean when you were there, I was just…" he gulps nervously and you sigh.

"tsumu... if it's too much for you to bear, maybe i should stop doing those things, okay?" you scoff bitterly, he becomes panic

“no, no, no,... i really like the way you care for me, please, i want your attention. please keep doing it. don’t get tired of me…”

you can feel the pulse bumping in your nerves, your heart flutters, and blood rushes into your cheeks just by hearing his confession. you kneel down beside him, fighting back the tears but then you can’t, so you squish him in a hug. atsumu holds you back as you start sobbing on his white shirt, inhales fondly your intoxicating smell and pats rhythmically on your back

“there, there, my angel. i’m here now. i’m sorry i’m late. let me make this up for you, yeah?” he chuckles.

atsumu loves his girlfriend. after hearing you ramble about your tight schedule, he immediately writes a report based on your experience to inform the coach about your condition so that everyone can share in your responsibilities instead of you having to handle everything alone. it wasn’t that long for the msby mates to realize you guys are together, he wrote in that report that he is your boyfriend, anyway.

“you nailed it, tsumu-kun” hinata bumps him with a thumbs up, atsumu responds with a sheepish grin while bokuto laughs beside him and sakusa just doesn’t really give a shit. 

he spots you standing on the opposite road near the brand new cafe, waving back to him smiling, “nah, gotta run. gonna treat my girlfriend with extra pastry today.”

i guess he is the simp now.

© 2024 dreamesamu. all rights reserved.

a recommendation to cope with your broken heart <3

[raekensluver]

hearts aligned

description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair

song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"

w.c: 2.7k

an: *sob* i love him.

it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.

the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.

you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.

but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.

you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."

he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.

you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.

spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"

you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"

spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."

you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."

spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.

his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."

you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.

spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"

you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."

his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."

you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"

he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."

you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."

his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."

you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."

his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."

you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."

spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."

you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"

spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."

spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."

you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."

spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."

you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"

he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."

you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."

you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.

spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."

you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."

his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."

spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."

you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."

spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.

you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."

you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.

"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.

his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."

you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.

his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.

you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.

spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."

spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."

you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."

you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."

spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."

you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.

the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.

you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."

his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."

[rosyblooom]

levi's jeans | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x fem quadrant!reader SUMMARY: y/n loves levi's jeans—it's all she wears, ever. so when lando has to draw her in a quadrant video, that's what he draws: levi's jeans. a bad attempt at flirting? maybe, but it gets the ball rolling. A/N: been listening to 'levii's jeans' 24/7 since the album dropped omg

Youtube - Quadrant

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yourusername happy now??? i don't only wear levi's jeans see😌

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username the lando tag??? lmao his drawing is still on her mind💀

username no but the way I didn't even question it when he drew jeans for y/n lool username @/levis I found yall's next collab partner

landonorris Why'd you tag me in this 🤣

yourusername u drew the jeans🙄 username ...how about u guys kiss and makeup hmm?😏

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username why do i kinda want them to date tho🧍‍♀️

username babe me too username me three 🙋‍♂️ username i've been thinking little lando has a crush👀 it was soo obvious in the yt vid

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[ caption: New Quadrant video out now!! Swipe up to watch ]

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[ caption: let's ride 🏍️ ]

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f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 12,400 others

f1gossipofficial After two months of being spotted together numerous times in London and Monaco, and stirring up dating rumours, Lando Norris and fellow Quadrant member Y/N L/N were recently seen off the coast of Spain, soaking up the sun and looking pretty cosy.

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username it's already been 2 months??? omg can they just say yes or no i'm tired😩

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username cause they're in the ocean??🤣 username a win is a win idc !!

username noo i hope they're just friends😭💔

username they're both so hot omfg

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3:35 ─────────ㅇ─── 4:17

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

[keyotos]

well aware, you are always mine

summary ⎯ bf headcanons w/ hsr men!!

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, jing yuan

tana's thoughts ⎯ keyotos being active and writing?!!!?!!?!?!

dan heng

⎯ TOTAL acts of service bf. cuts fruit for you, organizes your closet with you, helps you rearrange ur bookshelf. like all of that. he is ur #1 helper in all situations and is probably the most reliable person u know. if ur ever having problems, you always call dan heng bc he always solves them for you

⎯ considerate bf. listens to all ur song recommendations and also your book recommendations. never takes your word with a grain of salt (most of the time)

⎯ not a big fan of shopping trips, but will go with you anyway. he will carry all your bags and help you pick out clothes. AND HE WILL GIVE U ACTUAL FREAKING ADVICE INSTEAD OF BEING LIKE, "it all looks good on you."

⎯ like dan heng will pull up with, "that color washes you out," or, "that does not match your color pallete at all." he's detailed wit it too?? the only reason why he knows all of this is bc he pays attention to you.

you see something you like? let's find it in that color that matches w/ ur fav pants so you can wear it all the time. don't worry, i already found it.

you look dissatisfied? dan heng thinks he knows why: you think it won't look good. oh, he was right? well, he can help you style it in a way for it to look good. you can wear that with the shirt you like so much, with some added jewelry, of course.

⎯ does not spend ANY TIME in his room (but who could rlly blame him). he's always in yours and he's lying down in your bed. he takes the phrase, "make yourself at home," to another level. but i guess he gets a pass bc you literally are his home.

⎯ he's sarcastic asl. since his guard is down with you, there's not really a need to maintain seriousness at all times. his dry and sarcastic humor really comes out when you're around him specifically. dating dan heng would make u a victim of the sassy men apocalypse.

⎯ dan heng is the type of person to stare at you lovingly (like HEART EYES are coming out) while you guys are taking a photo together. and you wouldn't even know until you saw the photo. like picture this: you are over here smiling and being cute or whateva. and then dan heng is there. he's obliviously staring at you: like how the light perfectly bounces off your face and how perfectly your eyes crinkle when you smile.

⎯ when he feels secure around you, he is the definition of lovesick. longing stares from far away (even tho ur dating)? yes. touchy (you make sure to tease him about it)? yes. buries his head in the nape of your neck? duh. like he is the whole package and he can never seem to let you go... like ever. you are constantly stuck in his head and also his body.

gepard

⎯ hilariously bad at taking pictures. like you tell him to get one angle and he gets the exact opposite angle. manages to always catch you off guard in every. single. picture. his excuse for this is, "but you look good in all of them :/"

⎯ when he gets super tired after work, sometimes when he gets home and finishes showering/etc, he just flops onto u. like. literally flops onto you. you're always shocked at first, but you move him into a position where he can comfortably sleep (and hold you) in and then you relax. he always apologizes for it later in the morning and makes sure to shower you in more affection than last night, but you always reassure him that it's fine.

it's only bc u take the time to take equally bad photos of him #payback.

⎯ you have to water his plants for him. we all saw this coming. but on the bright side, that means ur home more often!! and when you greet him on the couch after a long day... like you've never heard a deeper sigh of relief before. doesn't collapse on you like other days (thankfully). you two just spend the night eating dinner on the couch and watching reality tv. sometimes, when you fall asleep on the couch, gepard always brings a blanket from your bedroom and drapes it over you. and then he carries you into bed.

⎯weirdly good at cracking your back for you. like if he wasn't the captain of the silvermane guards, he could very well be a freaking chiropractor. like he knows all the right joints to pop, all the right places to put his hands, and all the right places to press down. and it feels SO GOOD. you've never asked him about it.

⎯ gets you really cute and considerate gifts since he isn't around a lot. sometimes gets lynx to deliver them for him. and they're always paired with your favorite flowers too. all his gifts r things that he remembered you liked/wanted (new shampoo brand, new book pela recommended, new plants).

⎯ still asks if you wanna go out even if you two have been dating long term. like he would text you and be like, "would you like to go out with me for coffee," all formal and wtv, and you would respond like, "gepard we have been dating for five years. you do not need to ask."

he would get all flustered when you would bring it up at the coffee shop. pays for your coffee so you could forget about it (you don't: you tease him endlessly).

⎯ learns other things for you. he's dedicated and loyal to you like how a soldier is dedicated to their general. if you wanted a specific kind of dish, gepard would learn how to create it. if you wanted to learn how to plant certain seeds, gepard would run to the florist (and pela) to ask for many tips. if you spoke a different language, gepard would be running to duolingo.

though there is always his duty, a part of his heart and soul will always belong to you.

blade

⎯ contrary to gepard, takes the BEST FUCKING PHOTOS of you. he should be a professional photographer or something because, all the photos he takes, makes you look like a MODEL. he gets all the angles perfectly right + he always makes sure the lighting looks good. and u look back at all the photos he took and ur jaw is DROPPED

⎯ hates going outside x goes outside 24/7. you're big on exploration and fun while blade wants to lie low. but either way, you two manage to have fun in your own respective ways. blade watches you from a distance (of 1 foot) and only intervenes if he needs to. other than that, you drag him around the entire place. he is not complaining: one stupid and cheeky grin from you, and blade realizes he is an absolute goner.

⎯ a little too supportive. it's a good thing in all aspects except for one: making decisions. this mf is like, "whatever you do, i fully support your decision." BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE A DECISION. THAT'S WHY UR ASKING HIM.

⎯ this problem comes up very often during shopping trips. where dan heng excels at shopping trips, blade... not so much. blade is the type of bf to say, "everything looks good on you." but not bc he doesn't care enough: he genuinely thinks you look good in everything.

in his mind it's like: how could you think you look bad in that outfit when you are radiating luminosity from every crevice of the room??? does anyone else see that glow coming from you, or was it just him??

⎯ did not have a favorite color until you. he actually didn't have a lot of favorites before he met you. now his favorite color is blue (you like looking at the sky), his favorite scent is peach blossoms (the shampoo you use), and his favorite food is fried rice (it's the only thing you know how to make).

⎯ does ur hair for u. expert in hair care but it's not uncalled for (his only friends⎯not counting you⎯are silverwolf and kafka). you need to braid your hair? blade has already offered before u could even pull up a tutorial. a new cute hairstyle you wanted to try? don't worry, your boyfriend is there to help you part, section, and clip your hair.

⎯ pretends to give off big scary dog energy, in reality he is a small little lapdog. desires your love and affection so often. does not go out without you. grabs things n carries them to u like a cute little dog would. he's very devoted okay?? let him bring u stupid little trinkets and stay by ur side all the time.

⎯ you send him stupid ass memes all the time. one time u sent him one of those stupid 'good night' memes and he threatened to block you (lovingly). but he found that his reactions always make you laugh (and blade wants to keep you happy forever), so he just lets you send them to him atp. most nights, he sends a simple, "good night" text back. but when he wants to tease you, he sends a goodnight meme back.

⎯ those nights, he thinks that he hears your ecstatic giggles from down the hall. you sound so giddy that it makes his heart want to blow up. those are the good nights.

sampo

⎯ bro is mischievous. he leaves little sticky notes for you all around the house and makes it a game for u to find them. they're not even super important too they're just little things like, "i miss you," or, "did u find all the notes???"

⎯ but he knows you get bored easily, so he made those notes so that you could have something to do during the day. his intentions are adorably sweet, but his execution is so. um. A FOR EFFORT!

⎯ most of the stuff he gives you... hate to break it to u but they are usually stolen. if you choose to ignore that, great! most of the things he grabs are usually rare and u have no idea how he gets them. you swear he doesn't leave belobog, but some of the items he gifts you seem a little too... outlandish. but yk, it's the thought that counts!

⎯ manages to distract you from every single task. usually disruptive, but sometimes, very helpful. after an entire day of work, you can always come back home to where sampo is, because he will always find a way to distract you from whatever stress you have on your plate. whether it be cooking you dinner or simply talking you through his day, you always find yourself feeling slightly better around him.

⎯ has a good relationship with your family. yeah this was very unexpected on both ends. your parents love him: they love his humor and his looks and literally are charmed by him. even tho is a CON ARTIST. anyway. sampo loves your parents and messes around with you by calling them as their parental names (mom/dad). you are not amused.

⎯ grabs dinner before he comes back home. always manages to swing by a place you like and he always gets free food (you've gave up trying to question his methods). before, when he brought home food, it was usually a special occasion because he would never be home often. now, it's a common occurrence: he's wanted to be with you more, and now he brings home food every day.

jing yuan

⎯ the xianzhou's nagging king. this is not a good thing. he nags at you for a lot. did you take your allergy meds? did you eat breakfast today or just drink coffee? did you forget to clear out the pencils on your desk? he does it out of endearment. it does not make it less annoying (lies).

⎯ so accustomed to your little routines together that he can do it with his eyes closed. how do you want your tea? easy: he can list it within ten seconds. he can make it with his eyes closed. and he will always make it perfectly too.

⎯ lets you sleep on mimi (you could say you go mimimimi). not even gonna lie, sometimes he wishes he was mimi. you just sleep so peacefully on her, but you refuse to sleep on jing yuan. you make up stupid excuses like, "your bicep is going to be numb by the time we wake up." but that is simply not true (it is).

⎯ favorite times of day are when it's night. okay that didn't make any sense but he really just likes spending the night with you. it's quiet and the world is much less loud, and it feels like being with you redefined the definition of happiness. everything is so much more peaceful, and plus, you were there.

⎯ being a cloud knight general has its negative aspects. so, much like gepard, he would probably also crash into bed with you at night. but this time, he doesn't need you to move him, because he traps you in between his arms every. damn. time. it's like this man cannot fall asleep without you.

⎯ sitting down with him is like a chore. if you two are sitting down, jing yuan likes to grab your legs and move them onto himself, so you two would be closer. this isn't just on the sofa, by the way. armchairs, conference chairs, office chairs. the chairs don't even have to be connected. he'll just find a way to connect you two anyway.

⎯ you are the first person he looks for in a crowded room. in a place full of people, jing yuan's eyes will only scan for you. his height makes it easier to do so btw. but anyway, you are someone of great importance to him. he doesn't want to lose you like how he lost so many. and when he finds you, it's like the sun shines directly on you: it's always a surreal sight when jing yuan sees you, because he always thinks the sun has risen.

⎯ it hasn't. he was always looking at you.

AND GOOD NIGHT. jfc.

[mariasont]

Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H

a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events

warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though

wc: 1.2k

You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.

He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.

Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.

You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?

You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating. 

And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?

This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.

You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.

The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.

Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.

"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.

The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.

"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."

"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."

"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"

You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.

But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.

The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.

Let me know when you're close!

Is everything going okay?

Call me if you can.

An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?

You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.

You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.

You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.

Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.

You had won.

People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.

You had won.

Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.

You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.

You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.

But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.

You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.

"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."

The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.

part 2

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179

[a-lexia11]

Healing vacation and World Cup (Meeting in Barcelona part 4)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Words count: Around 11k

Part 1,Part 2,Part 3 , part 5

Note: So I know that I said part 4 will be the last but I changed my mind, there will be another part.

The night of the “breakup” with Alexia was one of the worst experiences of my life. I couldn't sleep a wink; my mind was consumed with thoughts of her—her radiant smile, her infectious laugh, and the scent of her perfume lingering in my memory.

In my desperation, I scrolled through my phone, endlessly watching the pictures and videos we had taken over the past weeks. It felt truly pathetic; we weren't even officially dating, yet here I was, heartbroken.

The worst part was going to bed without receiving one of her goodnight texts. I had grown so accustomed to her sweet messages that the silence felt unbearable.

I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I got my heart broken in Barcelona. It's supposed to be the city of love and romance, not a place for shattered hearts.

——

The next day was Sunday, and despite having a mountain of work to prepare for the final week of school, I couldn't muster the energy to leave my bed—except for the occasional trip to the freezer for more ice cream.

I lay there, feeling utterly defeated, listening to a playlist of sad songs. The ice cream, which was supposed to be a comfort, tasted salty because my tears kept falling into the tub. This only made me cry even more, creating a vicious cycle of sadness and melted, salty ice cream.

At one point, my mom called me, asking how I was, and I completely broke down. I told her everything that had happened, every detail of my heartbreak and the overwhelming sadness I was feeling.

She and my dad tried their best to comfort me. My mom's soothing words and my dad's attempt to lighten the mood with his comment about there being plenty of other fish in the sea.

While I understood his intention, it was hard to accept because I had already chosen my fish, and now, we couldn't be together anymore.

Their efforts, though subtle, did provide a small measure of comfort, but the pain was still very raw.

After we hung up, I found myself drifting back into a state of inactivity. I couldn't muster the energy to do anything but cry. The tears flowed until I was utterly exhausted, and eventually, I fell into a deep sleep, drained from the emotional turmoil of the day.

——

I woke up startled by knocks on my door. Groggily, I got out of bed and shuffled towards the front door, wondering who could be visiting so early. As I opened the door, there stood Alba, looking uncomfortable and biting her lips.

“Hola” she said quietly, her voice almost trembling.

“Hola” I responded, trying to sound more awake and opening the door wider to silently invite her in.

She stepped inside, and I closed the door behind her. We walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Alba seemed hesitant, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for the right words.

“¿Cómo estás?” (How are you?) she asked, giving me a small, tentative smile.

I raised my eyebrows at her, feeling my exhaustion wash over me again.

Girl, I looked like a mess—my face was all red, my eyes were so puffy I could barely open them, and my hair looked like a bird's nest.

“La más feliz que he sido en mi vida“ (The happiest I've ever been) I replied sarcastically, unable to hide my frustration.

Alba just nodded and looked down at her hands, playing with her rings.

I realized that my behavior was unkind, but the events of yesterday are still very fresh in my mind, and I can't forget how she ignored me the entire afternoon and suddenly snapped at me.

It felt like a complete disregard for my presence and feelings, which is something that really gets under my skin.

While it might appear childish to react in such a manner, I genuinely don't care because the feeling of being ignored is incredibly painful and frustrating.

It made me feel insignificant and unimportant, which is one of the worst emotions to experience. I understand that everyone has their moments, but being treated like that was really hurtful and left a lasting impact on me.

After about a minute of silence, Alba decided to speak. “Um… Lo siento mucho por lo de ayer. Estaba tan emocionada de ver a Marina de nuevo que me olvidé por completo de ti” (Um… I’m really sorry about yesterday. I was just so excited to see Marina again that I completely forgot about you) she said, still looking down, her voice tinged with regret and her shoulders slumped.

Great, Alba, that does not make it any better. “Forgetting” about me just because your friend is also here… it made it worse. The sting of being overlooked, especially by someone I considered a close friend, cut deep.

I could feel the tension between us growing, the silence becoming heavier with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Alba’s apology, though sincere, did little to mend the hurt.

The memory of being sidelined, of feeling invisible in the presence of someone she deemed more important, was still fresh and raw. Right now, she makes everything worse.

I’m feeling really let down and upset with the Putellas sisters. They are the last people I want to see or talk to at the moment. The incident is still very fresh, and I need some time to come to terms with it.

If I continue discussing this with her right now, I might say something I’ll later regret.

It’s such a stark contrast to just a few weeks ago. I used to look forward to seeing Alexia and hanging out with Alba.

We would go out with our friends, enjoy dinners, and have movie nights where I’d cuddle with Alexia.

Those moments felt so warm and comforting. Now, the thought of seeing them fills me with dread and frustration. It’s heartbreaking how quickly things have changed.

I rose from my chair, feeling the tension in the air. “No quiero hablar contigo en este momento” (I really don’t want to talk with you right now) I said, my voice strained with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “Creo que es mejor que te vayas” (I think it’s best if you leave)

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet room.

The distance between us grew with each step, and I felt a heavy weight lift slightly from my shoulders as I reached for the doorknob.

Alba rose from her seat and slowly made her way towards the front door. As I opened it for her, she paused right in front of me, her eyes meeting mine with a glint of unshed tears.

“I’m so, so sorry” she whispered in English, her voice barely audible yet laden with emotion. With that, she stepped out of my apartment, leaving a lingering sense of sorrow in the air.

I closed the door behind her and let out a deep sigh, resting my forehead against the cool wood.

The silence of the apartment seemed to echo the turmoil in my heart. Friendships and love are so difficult, I thought, feeling the sting of her departure.

The complexities of human connections often left me feeling both enriched and exhausted, and this moment was no different.

Settling back onto my sofa, I reached under the coffee table to grab my labtop. With a few quick clicks, I booked a flight back to New York, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation.

I really need to be with my family and friends. Spending my summer vacation in New York wasn't part of the plan—I was supposed to go to Bali with my friends but given the circumstances, that's no longer an option.

The thought of being surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of home brought a sense of comfort. I missed my parents and friends deeply, so NYC, here I come.

Just one more week of school, and I can finally escape Barcelona. The city had been beautiful and full of life, but right now, I needed the warmth and support of my loved ones more than anything.

——

Returning to work turned out to be easier than I had anticipated. Seeing all the children again brought a sense of joy and made me feel a little better, lifting my spirits.

I couldn't avoid Alba at all since we were working in the same class, but it was clear that something had definitely changed between us.

I wasn't talking to her, avoided making eye contact, and only spoke to her when it was absolutely necessary.

I maintained a professional demeanor throughout the entire week, focusing solely on my tasks and responsibilities.

It was challenging, but I knew it was the right thing to do for my own peace of mind.

I could see that she desperately wanted to talk to me; she always looked at me with eyes that seemed to say I had kicked her puppy or something equally heartbreaking.

I'm not going to lie, it hurt me more than I want to admit. Seeing her like that tugged at my heartstrings, making it difficult to stay firm in my decision.

But right now, the best thing for us, for me, is to focus on myself and my well-being. If that means I have to ignore Alba, then that's what I'm going to do.

It's not easy, but sometimes you have to make tough choices to protect your own mental and emotional health.

“Entonces, chicas, ¿algún plan para el verano?” (So, girls, any plans for the summer?) Valeria asked as Alba and I were in her office, having a little recap of everything that had happened at work.

Today is Friday, the last day of school, and finally summer vacation.

“Um…Sí, voy a Bali con mi hermana y amigos” (Um… yeah I’m going to Bali with my sister and friends) Alba said kinda quietly like she was ashamed of saying it.

Even though I’ve never told her directly, I think it’s safe to say that we silently agreed that I’m not part of this trip anymore.

“Eso es genial, Alba. Bali es hermoso, te vas a divertir mucho” (That’s great, Alba.Bali is beautiful you’re going to have so much fun) Valeria responded more exited that Alba. “¿Y tú, Y/N?” (What about you,Y/N) she asked turning her head,looking at me.

“Voy a regresar a Nueva York, voy a pasar un tiempo con mi familia” (I’m going back to New York, I’m going to spend some time with my family) I told her with a gentle smile.

Valeria smiled excitedly at me, nodded and said “¡Espero que se diviertan! Se lo merecen. Ambos fueron increíbles, y los niños no pueden esperar para verlos de nuevo en septiembre” (I hope you guys have some fun! You deserve it. You both were incredible, and the kids can't wait to see you both again in September) Valeria told us, smiling gently at us.

We thanked her.

After 30 more minutes of talking, Valeria finally let us go with a hug and a “see you in September” Alba and I made our way out of the school.

The sun was shining brightly, and the air was filled with the sounds of children laughing and playing, celebrating the start of their summer freedom.

In the parking lot, I turned to her and managed an awkward smile. “Diviértete en Bali” (Have fun in Bali) I said, my voice betraying a hint of the sadness I felt.

I was just about to turn around and walk to my car when I felt her hand gently stop me.

I turned around and looked at her, confusion etched across my face. She let go of my hand and took a deep breath, her eyes darting nervously.

“Um… quería contarte algo” (Um… I wanted to tell you something) she began, her voice trembling slightly.

“Te lo estoy diciendo para que no te enteres por las redes sociales ni nada... pero... um... Marina viene con nosotros a BalI” (I’m telling you so you don’t find out through social media or anything… but… um… Marina is coming with us to Bali) She paused between some words, her stress clearly evident as she gauged my reaction.

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, and I could see the worry in her eyes, reflecting the weight of the news she had just delivered.

I really don’t know what to say right now. It feels like they’ve replaced me with her. Y/N isn’t coming to Bali anymore, so let’s decide to invite Marina instead... just like that.

It’s incredibly frustrating and makes me feel really sad. Marina played a significant role in the fallout between Alexia and me, and now they’re still choosing to go on vacation with her.

Alba noticed my silence and quickly added, “Bianca es quien la invitó. Estábamos cenando juntos, hablando del viaje a Bali, y Bianca se sintió mal, así que la invitó” (Bianca is the one who invited her. We were having dinner together, discussing the Bali trip, and Bianca felt bad, so she invited her) she said, looking me directly in the eyes, as if to prove her sincerity.

Honestly, I don't have the energy to argue, so I just nodded and said, “Bueno, diviértete” (Okay, well, have fun) in a monotonous voice.

She bit her lip and replied, “Disfruta tu tiempo con tu familia” (Enjoy your time with your family.) I nodded again and turned towards my car.

I'm so over this. I really need to disconnect for a few weeks and stay away from them. It's the only way I can fully move on and heal from this.

——

On Sunday, I decided to go shopping since I’m leaving on Monday and wanted to get something special for my parents from Barcelona.

While I was browsing through necklaces for my mom, I suddenly heard someone calling my name from behind. I turned around and, to my surprise, it was Marcus.

I hadn't seen him since Bianca’s birthday, and seeing him there in the middle of the store brought back a flood of memories.

“Hey Marcus! How's it going?” I greeted him with a friendly hug, happy to see his familiar face.

“I'm good, and you?” he replied, his smile genuine and welcoming. “I'm good too, thanks” I answered, matching his friendly vibe.

“What are you up to here? Checking out the necklaces?” he asked, glancing at the jewelry selection.

“Yeah,I’m getting a gift for my mom. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow, so I wanted to grab something special for my parents” I explained, appreciating his interest.

“That's cool! I'm also heading back to New York soon. We should hang out” he suggested casually.

“For sure! That'd be awesome” I replied warmly, looking forward to catching up with a good friend.

Following our conversation and exploration together, Marcus's kindness and relaxed demeanor truly enhanced the entire experience.

We found a beautiful necklace for my mom, shared some laughs, and swapped phone numbers to plan a future meet-up in New York. Finally, we bid each other farewell.

I still needed to find something for my dad, and knowing his love for football and the Barça team, I decided to visit a Barça store.

The store was vibrant with the team's colors, and the energy was palpable, filled with fans and tourists alike.

While browsing through the aisle filled with various jerseys, I was meticulously going through each one, trying to find the perfect fit for my dad.

Suddenly, I looked up and there she was. Alexia.

In a promotional poster, wearing a Barça shirt, her blonde hair gleamed in the picture, and she had her arms crossed, looking intently into the camera.

Her presence, even in a photograph, was commanding and powerful.

Ugh, what did I expect? Not seeing her in a Barça store? When she's one of the best Barça players? It was almost inevitable.

I can't help but stare at her. The sight of her brought back a flood of memories, and I realized just how much I missed her.

Her intense gaze, even from a poster, seemed to reach out and touch a part of me that had been dormant for too long.

After a few minutes of just staring at that poster of Alexia, I finally pulled myself together and continued looking for a jersey. The store was bustling with fans, and the atmosphere was electric, filled with excitement and chatter about the latest matches and players.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I found the perfect jersey for my dad. It was a classic design with his favorite player's number on it. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I headed to the cashier, paid for the jersey, and stepped out of the store and in the busy street of Barcelona.

——

Later that day, I found myself packing my suitcase. I put a lot in it since I’ll probably be spending the whole summer there and will come back only in September.

The thought of being away for so long made me feel a mix of excitement and nostalgia.

While rummaging through my stuff, I stumbled upon a little box with the butterfly necklace that Alexia had given me.

Memories of the day she gave it to me flooded back, and I felt a bittersweet pang in my chest. Despite the mixed emotions, I decided to take it with me.

There was something comforting about having it close, a tangible reminder of the good moments we shared, not just the bad.

Carefully, I placed the box in my suitcase, knowing that it would bring a sense of connection and warmth during my summer away.

——

The next day, I found myself at the bustling airport, ready to embark on my journey back to New York.

The excitement of returning home mixed with a tinge of sadness about leaving behind the vibrant streets of Barcelona, even if temporary.

As much as I love the city's rich culture, beautiful architecture, and warm, sunny days, I missed my hometown deeply.

The familiar skyline, the hustle and bustle of the streets,were calling me back. With a mix of emotions, I boarded the plane, looking forward to reuniting with everything and everyone I had missed so much.

——

Landing in New York, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I finally escaped the confines of the long flight. The anticipation of seeing my family again made every step feel lighter as I navigated through the crowded airport.

I made my way to the baggage claim area, weaving through the throngs of travelers, each with their own stories and destinations.

After what felt like an eternity, my suitcase finally appeared on the carousel. With a sense of accomplishment, I retrieved it and checked my phone.

A message from my mom popped up, informing me that she and my dad were waiting for me near the airport entrance.

As I descended the escalator, my eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on my parents. My mom was holding a sign that read “Bienvenido a Nueva York,” written in bold, colorful letters, while my dad stood beside her with a bouquet of vibrant flowers.

Their dramatic gesture brought a smile to my face, reminding me just how much I love them.

The moment they spotted me, my mom called out my name, her voice filled with excitement.

She waved frantically, her enthusiasm infectious. I couldn’t help but laugh at their eagerness, feeling a warm sense of belonging as I made my way toward them.

Stepping off the escalator, I hurried towards my parents and enveloped them in a tight hug.

I had missed them so much; their familiar scents and warm embrace brought a sense of comfort that only family could provide.

As tears welled up in my mom's eyes, I could feel the depth of her emotions, her love for me shining through every tear.

On the other hand, my dad's beaming smile could have lit up the entire airport; his joy at seeing me again was palpable, filling the air with a contagious happiness that lifted my spirits.

After our emotional reunion, my parents extended an invitation to dine at a nearby restaurant. Amidst the cozy ambiance and delicious food, I poured my heart out, recounting every detail of my Barcelona adventures.

From Valeria's kindness to the lively banter with the school kids, the bond with my new friends, and the captivating tales of Alba and Alexia, I painted a vivid picture of my life in Spain.

My parents, ever the attentive listeners, hung onto my every word. When I revisited the story of Alexia and me, my dad's protective instincts flared up, his playful threat of converting to a Madridista eliciting laughter from all of us.

Meanwhile, my mom, with her gentle wisdom, offered comforting advice and reassurance, grounding me in her maternal warmth and understanding.

——

After spending a few hours at home, I finally decided it was time to unpack my suitcase, so I enlisted my mom to help me out.

We began carefully pulling out the clothes, one by one, chatting about the trip as we went. Suddenly, my mom's eyes caught something small and delicate—a little box tucked away in a corner of the suitcase.

She gently picked it up and opened it, revealing the butterfly that Alexia had given me.

“What’s this?” she asked, opening the box and seeing the butterfly. “Wow, that’s really pretty! Where did you get it?” she continued, inspecting the necklace.

“Oh, it was a gift from Alexia,” I trailed off. My mom looked at me sadly and gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Ooh, is that your initial imprinted on the wings?” she noticed, placing a hand on her heart, touched by it.

“Yeah, it is,” I answered, feeling a little sad as I looked down at my clothes and began folding them as a distraction.

“That girl seemed to really like you, dare I say maybe even in love with you,” she said, and that made me look up at her so fast I almost got whiplash.

“In love?! Don’t be ridiculous, Mom. She is not in love with me; we’ve only known each other for barely three months,” I told her, looking at her weirdly.

“And? The heart wants what it wants, right? Time doesn’t matter; it’s the connection that you have that does. Plus, I’m pretty sure that you’re in love with her,” she said, smirking at me.

That’s ridiculous. I’m not in love with Alexia, just because I think about her every day and every second, and that I love to admire pictures of her, and that I would do anything for her, and that—oh my God, I think I’m in love with her.

I looked at my mom with wide eyes. “I’m in love with Alexia… oh my God,” I told my mom. She just looked at me, nodding her head and smiling gently.

“I know you are,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder before turning back to folding my clothes.

Now that I think about it, it all makes sense, but it's adding layers of complexity to my feelings. How am I supposed to fully move on from her when my heart feels so entangled?

And then there's the question of whether Alexia is really in love with me. A part of me desperately hopes for a definitive answer, either yes or no, because ambiguity just makes everything more complicated.

If she is, it brings a whole new set of challenges; if she isn't, it might make it easier to let go, but it still hurts.

——

I spent my first two week in NYC just soaking up the city and relaxing with my friends and family. It felt so good to reconnect with Madison and Carter; I had missed them more than I realized.

We laughed, reminisced, and created new memories together. To make the most of this precious time, I decided to disconnect from my phone completely. I deleted all my social media apps and any other distractions, focusing solely on being present with my loved ones.

One of the highlights was inviting Marcus to hang out with us. He had mentioned he was also in New York, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to include him in our group.

Surprisingly, he fit right in, as if he had always been a part of our tight-knit circle. We explored the city, shared stories, and bonded over our shared experiences, making the week even more special.

He’s basically become part of our group now. We’re always hanging out together, even when we’re just doing nothing. I’ve gotten to know him better, and I’m not disappointed.

He really belongs with us. It’s been great to see how well he fits in with everyone. We’ve had some amazing times, whether it’s surfing in the Hamptons, grabbing a bite to eat, or just chilling at someone’s place.

He’s added a new dynamic to our group, and I can’t imagine it without him now.

This two weeks were truly amazing until I decided to go back on social media and saw Bianca’s new Instagram post.

She had posted an insta dump with pictures from Bali. There was one picture in particular that caught my eye: all of them sitting at a restaurant, smiling. Alexia and Marina were sitting next to each other, with Alexia’s arm around Marina’s shoulder.

I just stared at the both of them; they really do look like a couple. Alexia had confessed to me that at one point she felt something for Marina, and now that they are on vacation together, maybe they’ve rekindled that flame.

I made the mistake of going through the comments. Alexia’s fans were all over it, recognizing Marina as her ex and freaking out, shipping them, saying they look cute together. It was like a punch to the gut.

Huffing, I locked my phone and threw it across my bed. I fucking hate them! Well, not Alexia, but in that moment, I did hate her.

Seeing them together like that brought back so many memories and emotions. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and hurt. It's like everything we had talked about, all the feelings she had shared with me, were just thrown out the window.

I felt betrayed and confused, the comments only made it worse.

I needed to get away from it all, to clear my head and figure out what I was really feeling.

I decided to take a long walk, hoping the fresh air and solitude would help me sort through my emotions. But no matter how far I walked, the image of Alexia and Marina together kept replaying in my mind.

How can my mom even think that Alexia is in love with me when she's so openly affectionate with someone else? It's confusing and hurtful, and I don't know what to believe anymore.

Feeling jealous and angry, I decided to make an Instagram dump too. I posted several pictures of food, Madison, Carter, and most importantly, Marcus.

Alexia was jealous of Marcus; she told me herself, so I thought, why not post about him?

I included a particular picture of all of us in swimsuits after we went surfing in the Hamptons.

The picture was a selfie taken by Madison. In the background, you could see Carter sitting by himself, eating. Marcus and I were in the foreground, sitting on a surfboard.

I had my arms wrapped around his stomach, and his arms were comfortably resting around my shoulders.

The sun was setting, casting a beautiful glow over the scene, and you could see the waves gently crashing behind us. The picture perfectly captured the joy and relaxation of that moment.

And I captioned it : “ Mis favoritos momentos con Mis favoritas personas” (My favorite moments with my favorite persons)

——

As I was laying on my bed at night, I received an instagram notification.

alexiaputellas liked your post.

I really hope you liked my post, Alexia. I mean, I truly hope it brought you immense joy and satisfaction…

And then I received a message from Alexia. I quickly sat up, my mind racing as I debated whether or not to read it.

The curiosity was killing me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it might be something important. After a moment of hesitation, I decided, “Oh, screw it, I should just read it.”

La Reina👸 : Hola,Y/N how are you? I hope I’m not bothering you.I just wanted to know how you are, I saw some of you pictures that you posted,I’m really happy that you’re enjoying yourself.You deserved it.

Ugh,suddenly you want to know how I am right after I posted those pictures...

I knew it, posting that picture with Marcus definitely got to her. I mean, it was bound to happen, right?

But should I respond? I can't deny I missed talking to her. She saw that I read the message, and if I don't reply, it’ll seem rude... Plus, it's not like I want to start any drama.

So frustrating. I'll just reply casually and normally, keeping things light and friendly.

To La Reina 👸: Hey Alexia, I'm good, thanks! How about you? How was Bali?

Is it too short? Should I add more? No, it's perfect. And I send her the message, hoping for the best.

After a few minutes, her call suddenly came through. I sat up even more, almost falling out of my bed, my mind racing with questions.

Why is she calling now? Isn't texting enough? Oh no, what do I do? She knows I'm awake; I just replied to her message.

Shit! I’m panicking, I’m panicking.

Okay, calm down. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out.

With a deep breath, I finally picked up the phone.

“Hello” I greeted Alexia, trying to sound as calm and casual as possible, even though I was on the edge of a panic attack.

“Hello, Y/N,” Alexia responded softly. Hearing her voice and that familiar accent made my heart skip a beat. “How are you?” she continued.

“I’m good. And you?” I asked her genuinely, eager to hear more.

“I’m good too, thank you,” she said gently, her voice as soothing as ever.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, I decided to break the ice. “Did you have fun in Bali? Are you back in Barcelona?”

“Yes, I had a lot of fun, and yes, I am back in Barcelona,” she answered casually.

I furrowed my eyebrows. She’s back in Barcelona, and it’s like 4 a.m. there right now. Why is she awake?

“Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s late in Barcelona right now,” I told her, my concern evident in my voice.

“I couldn’t sleep. I—” she stopped in her tracks. The silence stretched for a few seconds, and then she continued, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I closed my eyes, feeling a mix of emotions. God, why do you say those kinds of things? And at night, I’m so much more vulnerable at this time.

“Y/N? Are you still here?” she asked, worry lacing her voice, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Um... yes... sorry, I’m still here,” I answered, totally dumbfounded, trying to process her words and the emotions they stirred within me.

I sighed deeply, "Alexia, you can’t say things like that," I said with a hint of sadness in my voice.

"But it’s the truth," she responded sincerely, her words cutting through the silence.

I sighed again, feeling the weight of her words. "How is Alba?" I quickly changed the subject, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from our feelings.

"She is very good. She misses you, you know…" she trailed off, her voice softening.

"I miss her too," I responded truthfully, feeling a pang of longing.

I can't lie, I miss Alba a lot—her presence, her humor, her teasing. Maybe I should try and reach out to her at some point. I can't stay angry at her forever.

The thought of reconnecting with Alba brought a small smile to my face, despite the emotional turmoil I was feeling.

After that, Alexia and I talked for a while, but only about our vacations—how they went, what we did, the places we visited, and the people we met. I completely avoided talking about Marina.

The pain of that situation still lingered, and I wasn’t ready to confront it just yet.

Alexia also mentioned that in less than a week, she will be flying to New Zealand for the World Cup.

She was very excited about it and maybe also a little nervous. I mean, it’s the World Cup after all. She talked about how she’s been training hard and how much it means to her to represent her team on such a big stage.

She’s looking forward to the experience but also feels the pressure to perform well.

She also shared with me the various issues the team is currently facing with their coach.She mentioned that the disagreements are affecting their training sessions and overall team morale.

She seemed really upset about it.

“Will you come to see one of my matches?” she asked suddenly, catching me off guard.

“I don’t know, Alexia,” I replied hesitantly, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

“Lo cubriré todo: los billetes de avión, los hoteles, todo” (I’ll cover everything—plane tickets, hotels, everything) she quickly added, her desperation to convince me evident in her voice.

“Alexia, that’s not the issue,” I informed her, trying to convey the complexity of my hesitation.

“Entonces, ¿cuál es el problema?” (Then what is the problem?) she asked, her frustration starting to show.

“You know what the problem is,” I retorted knowingly, hinting at the unresolved issues between us.

“Sí, pero por favor, creo que es hora de que tengamos una conversación cara a cara, no por teléfono. No podemos seguir así. Te quiero en mi vida; significas mucho para mí” (Yes, but please, I think it’s time for us to have a conversation face to face, not over the phone. We can’t stay like this. I want you in my life; you mean so much to me) she said emotionally, her voice softening as she tried to reach me on a deeper level.

She was right; I can’t avoid this situation forever. I need to work things out with Alba and her. I work with Alba, and we need to make things comfortable with each other once we get back to work.

The tension can’t affect my professional life.

And Alexia is now also a part of my life. I need to work things out with her too. It’s the only solution to live in peace and move forward without this cloud hanging over us.

“Okay, I’ll come to see one of your matches,” I told her, finally giving in. I think I can squeeze New Zealand into my schedule, though it will be tight.

I’ll ask Marcus, Carter, and Madison if they want to come along. It might be good to have some company and support during this trip.

“Good!” she said excitedly. “I can pay for everything,” she started saying, but I cut her off.

“It’s okay, Alexia, you don’t have to pay for anything. I can cover it, really,” I informed her.

After a few minutes of back-and-forth arguing about whether she would or wouldn’t pay for my trip, she finally gave in.

“Now, I’ll need to go buy a Spain jersey” I told her jokingly, trying to keep the conversation light.

“You know I can give you one; you don’t have to buy it” she replied matter-of-factly, her tone amusing.

“Who said I wanted your jersey?” I retorted with a playful grin, letting out a little laugh at the end to show I was just teasing.

“Oh, so you don’t want to carry my name on your back?” she responded, her voice filled with mock indignation.

“No, thank you. I want a Bonmati jersey” I informed her.

“That’s a very good choice,” she said sweetly and honestly, her smile warm and genuine.

“I'm just teasing, I only want to wear your jersey, no one else's” I said softly, my tone becoming more tender as I gazed into her eyes.

Ugh, I'm starting to get emotional now... stop it, Y/N.

“Can you FaceTime me, please? I really want to see you” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course, you can FaceTime me” I replied after a brief pause.

I received the FaceTime call and accepted it right away.

She appeared on my screen, looking so relaxed. I could see she was lying on her bed with Nala in her arms.

“Hola” she greeted me with a gentle smile.

“Hola” I responded. “Can I see Nala, please?” I asked, and she chuckled softly. She moved her camera to show Nala, who was peacefully asleep.

“Oh, she's adorable” I whispered to Nala. I really missed that little dog.

Alexia brought the camera back to herself. “You got a tan; it looks great on you” I complimented her.

“Gracias” (thank you) she said “Sabes, me habría divertido más si hubieras estado aquí con nosotros” (You know, I would have had more fun if you were here with us) she added, sounding a bit sad.

I sighed deeply, feeling a bit lost on how to respond.

“Maybe one day, we'll be able to go there together again” I suggested, smiling warmly at her.

“I would love that” she replied, her smile mirroring mine.

“Um... I saw your pictures on Instagram. You and Marcus are friends now?” she asked hesitantly, trying to choose her words carefully to avoid sounding rude.

There it was. The unmistakable hint of jealousy I had been expecting.

“Yes, we ran into each other again in Barcelona. I told him I was heading back to NY, and he mentioned he was going too. So, yeah, we've been hanging out” I explained, trying to keep my tone casual.

I couldn't resist asking, “I saw Bianca's Instagram. You and Marina seem to be getting closer too” I pointed out gently, not wanting to sound accusatory.

“Sí, somos amigas” (Yes, we're friends) she said simply, and I nodded, though doubt lingered in my mind.

It's hard to fully believe her right now. Noticing my hesitation, she looked at me through the screen and said firmly, “I promise you, nothing happened with her. She's just my friend”

I nodded again, her earnestness making me think she might be telling the truth. I decided to trust her.

Alexia then yawned, clearly exhausted from our long conversation. We had been talking for at least an hour.

“Alexia, go to sleep. It's late, or rather early, for you” I gently urged her.

“Quiero seguir hablando contigo, no hemos hablado en tanto tiempo, te he extrañado más que a nada” (I want to keep talking with you, we haven’t talk in so long, I missed you more than anything) she whispered softly, her voice full of longing.

Oh, Alexia, I miss you so much too, more than anyone or anything but I decided to ignore the comment

“Let's talk tomorrow, okay? ” I told her, trying to convince her to go to sleep.

“Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, cariño” she said casually, her voice soft and drowsy.

I don't think she realized the pet name she used because she was half asleep. It caught me off guard but made me smile.

“Goodnight, Alexia” I said simply. She smiled gently at me through the phone, and then there was a soft click as she hung up.

Having this conversation with her was really good. I feel so much lighter now. All the anger that had been weighing me down just disappeared. It feels so good to talk, even though we didn't address the problem directly.

Just hearing her voice and knowing she's there for me made everything better.

——

Over the next few days, I reached out to Carter, Madison, and Marcus to see if they were interested in going to New Zealand for the World Cup. They all responded with enthusiasm.

We then went online to purchase Spain jerseys. I chose Alexia's jersey, while Marcus and Madison went for Aitana's jersey. Carter, like me, opted for Alexia's jersey.

I sent a message to Alexia, informing her that we would be traveling to New Zealand to watch her play. She was thrilled and thanked us for the support.

We all agreed to invite Alba to join us. I feel it's time to finally forgive her. The three weeks apart have allowed my anger to dissipate, and I've realized how much I miss her.

This trip seems like the perfect opportunity to mend our relationship and enjoy an unforgettable experience together.

So that’s why I’m calling her right now.

“Hola” she answered the phone, sounding really confused.

“Hola, Alba,” I replied warmly. “Cómo estás?” (How are you?) I continued sweetly.

“Hola, Y/N. Estoy bien, ¿y tú?” (I’m fine, and you?) she asked back, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

“Estoy genial, gracias” (I’m great, thank you) I answered, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. “Te estoy llamando porque quería preguntarte algo” (I’m just calling because I wanted to ask you something) I continued, feeling a bit nervous.

“Dime” (Tell me) she said, her tone encouraging.

“Quería saber si te gustaría, ya sabes, venir a Nueva Zelanda conmigo y mis amigos” (I wanted to know if you would like to, you know, come to New Zealand with me and my friends) I asked, my voice wavering slightly. “Tuve una conversación con Alexia hace poco, y vamos a ver algunos de sus partidos y también pasar un tiempo allí de vacaciones” (I had a conversation with Alexia not long ago, and we’re going to see some of her matches and spend some time there for vacation as well) I continued, rambling nervously.

There was a moment of silence that felt like an eternity before she finally answered, “¡Sí, me encantaría ir con ustedes!” (Yes, I would love to come with you guys) she said, and I could hear the genuine smile in her voice.

“¡Eso es fantástico! ¡No puedo esperar! Um, ya sabes, también nos dará la oportunidad de hablar sobre, ya sabes, lo que pasó” (That’s fantastic! I can’t wait for it! Um, you know, it will also give us the opportunity to talk about, you know, what happened) I added, my nerves showing through.

“Sí, me gustaría hablar de todo eso contigo también” (Yes, I’d like to discuss all that with you too) she said, sounding relieved and perhaps a bit emotional.

“De acuerdo, te enviaré toda la información.” (Okay, well, I will text you all the info) I informed her, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

“Sin problema, estoy feliz de que hayas llamado“ (No problem, Y/N. I’m really happy you called) she said, her voice filled with emotion, and I returned her words before we said our goodbyes.

——

We’ve been in New Zealand for about two days now.

After an incredibly long flight, we have finally landed in New Zealand two days ago.Alba is supposed to join us today, and I’m sure her arrival will make the trip even more exciting.

I did not have the chance to see Alexia in those two days,since she does not have much days off.

The Spanish team has played three matches so far and has won two of them, which is amazing. The excitement of the matches is palpable, and I can’t wait to see more of them in action.

Besides the matches, I’m looking forward to exploring this beautiful country with you all and creating unforgettable memories.

“Where is she? We've been waiting for like 20 minutes! Send her a message” Carter complained for what seemed like the hundredth time. We are currently at the airport about to pick up Alba.

“Oh, look, there she is!” Madison pointed out Alba and greeted her excitedly, waving and calling her name with enthusiasm.

Alba turned her head and upon seeing us, her face lit up with a big smile. She quickened her pace and approached us swiftly.

When she finally arrived, she greeted us all with tight hugs and kisses on the cheeks, her joy palpable.

When she reached me, she put her hand on the back of my head and hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe, but I hugged her back just as tightly, feeling her warmth and affection.

“I've missed you so much” she said in English with a voice that was almost breaking into tears. I hugged her even tighter if that was possible and echoed her words, feeling the emotion of the reunion.

We parted with a kiss on each cheek and, with a mix of laughter and chatter, headed towards our rental car.

After returning to the hotel, Alba and I engaged in a deep and emotional conversation that lasted at least an hour , with a few tears shed here and there.

She confessed how terrible she felt about the hurtful comment she had made and how she had ignored me when Marina was around.

Her voice was filled with genuine remorse, and I could see the regret in her eyes.

Alba promised that she would never behave that way again and, in a light-hearted moment, even said I could slap her if she ever did. She went on to tell me how much she missed me and how everyone in Bali missed me too.

She mentioned that the trip would have been so much better if I had been there, and hearing that truly touched my heart. It made me realize how much I mean to them and how much they value my presence.

I forgave her wholeheartedly, understanding that time has allowed me to heal and that it’s now time to move forward. I feel that this experience has the potential to make our friendship stronger than ever.

Perhaps we needed this argument to reinforce our bond and understand each other better. With a tight hug and a playful slap on my ass, we left the hotel, ready to explore the vibrant city of Aucklan.

——

After a long day of sightseeing, we finally got back to the hotel to freshen up and prepare ourselves for the match tonight. Spain is playing against Switzerland, and the excitement was palpable. I headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, eager to get ready for the evening.

As I was getting dressed, my eyes fell upon that familiar small box with the butterfly necklace inside. I hesitated, debating whether or not to wear it. After a few minutes of contemplation, I decided to put it on, feeling a sense of comfort and connection as I clasped it around my neck.

While rummaging through my suitcase for my jersey, Alba emerged from the bathroom, her hair still damp and a playful smirk on her face. Her eyes immediately went to the necklace I was wearing.

“Lo sabía, se vería realmente hermoso en ti” (I knew it would look really beautiful on you) she said, her smile gentle. “Yo la ayudé a elegirlo, ¿sabes?” (I helped her choose it, you know.)

“¿De verdad?” (Really?) I asked, genuinely surprised.

“Sí, pero fue idea de ella añadir las iniciales. ¿Verdad que fue lindo?” (Yeah, but it was her idea to add the initials. That was cute, right?) she added smugly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I couldn't help but smile back at her. I had missed her teasing more than I would like to admit. It felt good to have this moment, a reminder of our deep bond and the shared memories that made our friendship so special.

I playfully rolled my eyes at her and was about to put on my jersey when Alba stopped me.

“Espera, no te lo pongas todavía, tengo algo más” (Wait, don’t put it on yet, I have something else) she said, rummaging through her suitcase with a determined look on her face.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, curious about what she could possibly have. She finally pulled out another jersey of Alexia’s and handed it to me.

“Alba, es la misma camiseta que compré” (Alba, it’s the same jersey that I bought) I told her, puzzled, as I was about to give it back.

“Dale la vuelta” (Turn it around) she said, rolling her eyes with a knowing smile.

I turned the jersey around, and there, on the number 11, it was written with a sharpie, “Una camiseta especial para alguien especial” (A special jersey for my special someone.) I immediately recognized Alexia’s handwriting, and my heart skipped a beat.

My cheeks blushed at that, feeling a warm rush of emotions.

“Alexia me dijo que te la diera” (Alexia told me to give it to you) Alba said, smiling gently at me before returning to the bathroom to continue getting ready.

I put the jersey on, and it smelled exactly like Alexia, bringing a sense of comfort and closeness. She is so sweet.

Take that, Marina—I bet Alexia didn’t give you her jersey with a cute message like this.

——

We arrived at the stadium, and the energy was palpable with a crowd already gathered. We found our seats near the field, eagerly anticipating the events to unfold.

The atmosphere shifted as the Spanish team players emerged from the tunnels, greeted by enthusiastic cheers. Alexia, with her slightly faded pink hair, immediately caught my eye. She looked impeccable in her suit, AirPods in, exuding confidence and focus.

As Alexia and her teammates inspected the field, their concentration was evident. They took in every detail, preparing themselves mentally for the match ahead.

Then, Alexia turned her head, and our eyes met. A wide smile spread across her face as she waved at me. I waved back, feeling a rush of excitement. Noticing she had her phone, I gestured for her to check it.

“Thank you so much for the jersey, I love it” I messaged her. I looked up to see her reaction. She read the message, then looked up and blew me a kiss with a wink, making my heart flutter.

Alexia then spotted Alba, Marcus, Carter, and Madison. Their faces lit up with big smiles and enthusiastic greetings. Alba blew her a kiss, which Alexia caught and placed on her heart, a gesture of the deep bond and affection among friends.

After a while the players all went back to the tunnels.

——

The whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. Spain had an easy victory, dominating Switzerland with a 5-1 scoreline.

The stadium erupted with cheers, singing, and dancing as fans celebrated Spain's qualification for the quarter-finals. Alexia and her teammates were visibly elated, their faces beaming with joy and pride.

After soaking in the jubilant atmosphere for a while, we decided to leave the stadium. It was quite late, and our stomachs were rumbling, so we headed to a nearby restaurant to grab a bite to eat.

The streets were alive with fans celebrating Spain's victory, adding to the festive mood.

While we were at the restaurant, I received a message from Alexia. She told me that she would have some time off the next morning and asked if I wanted to join her for breakfast. Without hesitation, I accepted her invitation, eager to spend some quality time with her.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I continued texting Alexia. She seemed very angry and frustrated because there were ongoing issues with the coaching staff. I did my best to comfort her, offering words of support and encouragement, but it was tough as she was clearly very upset.

I hoped that our breakfast together in the morning would lift her spirits and bring some much-needed positivity.

——

I stood in front of the hotel, my heart racing as I waited for Alexia. She had texted me moments ago, saying she’d be here in just a few minutes, but each second felt like an eternity. The anticipation was almost overwhelming—I hadn’t seen her in what felt like forever, and the thought of being near her again made my chest tighten with longing.

And then, suddenly, I saw her. She was across the street, her figure unmistakable even from a distance. Alexia was dressed in a Spain training kit, the familiar colors bringing a rush of memories flooding back.

Her pink hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, some strands gently framing her face. In her hand, she held a bouquet of flowers,more specifically roses,my favorite.

The sight of her took my breath away, and for a moment, I could do nothing but stand there, captivated.

She hadn’t noticed me yet, and I felt a sudden, urgent need to be closer to her, to close the distance that had separated us for too long.

Without thinking, I stepped off the curb, my eyes locked on her. But I was so mesmerized by the sight of her that I didn’t see the car coming.

The blare of a horn jolted me back to reality, and I snapped my head to the right, just in time to see the car screech to a halt.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I quickly raised my hand in a gesture of apology to the driver, mouthing a hurried “sorry” before practically sprinting across the street.

As I drew nearer, Alexia’s eyes finally met mine. She must have seen everything—my near miss with the car, the way I had been so lost in thoughts of her that I hadn’t even looked before crossing.

But instead of the concern I expected, her face lit up with the brightest smile, one that made my heart swell with so much emotion I thought it might burst.

She opened her arms wide, and I didn’t hesitate for a second. I rushed into her embrace, wrapping my arms around her with all the pent-up longing I had been carrying for so long.

Being in her arms again was like coming home. The familiar scent of her skin, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the way her strong arms enveloped me—it was everything I had missed, everything I had dreamed of in the quiet moments when the distance between us had felt unbearable.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

Alexia’s hug was firm and reassuring, and when she lifted me off the ground, spinning me around, a laugh bubbled up from deep inside me, full of pure, unfiltered joy. I could feel her laughter too, rumbling softly against my chest as she held me.

“¿No te dije que miraras a ambos lados antes de cruzar la calle?” (Didn’t I tell you to look both ways before crossing the street?) she whispered into my ear, her voice teasing but full of affection.

Her breath was warm against my skin, and the sound of her voice sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t help but laugh again, the tension and anxiety that had been building up inside me all day finally melting away.

“I missed you so much,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, but I knew she heard me. I could feel her smile widen against my cheek, and she squeezed me even tighter, as if she never wanted to let me go.

After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, we finally pulled back, though neither of us seemed eager to break the contact entirely. She gently lowered me back to the ground, her hands lingering on my arms, as if grounding me, keeping me close. Then, with that same tender smile, she held out the flowers she had been carrying all along.

“For you,” she said softly, her eyes full of warmth and something else—something that made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Alexia,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion as I took the flowers from her. I brought it to my nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance, but all I could really smell was her.

I looked up at her, unable to keep the smile from my face, and I knew in that moment that no matter how far apart we had been, we were here now, together.

"Let's go eat; I'm hungry," she said with a smile, extending her hand toward me. I reached out and took it, her touch warm and familiar, and together we started walking.

The time I spent with Alexia felt almost surreal, as if no time had passed since we were last together. It was like slipping back into a comfortable rhythm, where everything between us just flowed naturally.

We talked about everything and nothing, our conversation as easy and effortless as it had always been. Laughter filled the air, and for a while, it felt as though the weight of the past few months had lifted.

We just catched up on those few weeks that we spend apart.

But eventually, the conversation turned to the topic we had both been quietly avoiding—my decision to end things between us. We spoke a little bit more in details about it, all the things that I could not said that night that I “broke up” with her I told them now.

I could see the sadness in her eyes as we talked, a hint of melancholy that tugged at my heart.

Yet, despite the pain, she listened carefully, nodding in understanding. She didn’t try to argue; instead, she respected my decision, something that only deepened my admiration for her.

The maturity and grace with which she handled the situation reminded me of why I had fallen for her in the first place.

At one point, her gaze dropped to the necklace I was wearing—the one she had given me. Her eyes softened as she noticed it, and I saw a flicker of surprise mixed with something like relief. I realized then that I had never properly thanked her for the gift.

So, in that quiet moment, I finally expressed my gratitude, telling her how much it meant to me and how I had kept it close, even after everything.

She smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that made my chest tighten with emotion.

After about an hour,Alexia walked me back to my hotel, our hands brushing against each other occasionally as we walked side by side. When we reached the entrance, she turned to me, her expression gentle and full of warmth.

Leaning in, she placed a soft kiss on my cheek, the gesture simple yet filled with affection.

“I'll text you later,” she promised, her voice soft, almost a whisper. I nodded, smiling at her, knowing that even though things were different now, there was still something strong and unspoken between us.

As I watched her walk away, I felt a mixture of emotions—gratitude, sadness, and a lingering sense of connection. It was a bittersweet reminder that while things may have changed, some bonds are too strong to ever truly break.

——

I’ve been in New Zealand for just over a week now, and it’s been such a refreshing experience. The country is absolutely stunning, with its breathtaking landscapes and peaceful atmosphere.

I’ve spent most of my time simply enjoying the beauty of the surroundings and taking some much-needed time to relax and recharge.

Marcus, Madison, and Carter all left the day after the intense quarterfinal match between Spain and the Netherlands. It was an exhilarating game, with Spain emerging victorious once again, solidifying their place as one of the top teams in the tournament.

After they departed, it was just Alba and me for a few days, which gave us some time to bond and explore the area together.

Later, Eli and Alexia’s uncle and some friends joined us minus Marina,she had to word thanks God. That added a new dynamic to the group and made things more lively.

Spain then faced Sweden in the semifinals, and it was another thrilling match. Spain pulled off another impressive win, which meant they secured their spot in the final. The excitement among everyone was undeniable. The atmosphere was electric, with celebrations all around.

Alexia, in particular, was over the moon with joy, as were her teammates. You could really feel the pride and happiness radiating from them—it was such a special moment for all of them.

When it comes to Alexia, I haven’t been able to spend as much time with her as I would have liked. Her training schedule has been intense, so she’s been focused and busy preparing for the matches.

However, I did manage to carve out some quality time with her and her family, which I really cherished.

Even when we weren’t physically together, we stayed in close contact through phone calls, FaceTime, and constant messaging. It was nice to keep that connection strong, even with everything going on.

——

Today is the big day—the World Cup final. England versus Spain. The anticipation is overwhelming, and I can’t help but feel incredibly nervous yet excited for the outcome. I’m really hoping Spain takes home the win.

They’ve worked so hard and gone through so much to get here, and they truly deserve to lift that trophy after everything they’ve endured.

The atmosphere in the stadium was absolutely electric, with the tension and excitement hanging thick in the air. Both English and Spanish fans filled the stands, their voices blending into a roaring sea of cheers and chants for their respective teams.

The energy was contagious, and you could feel the passion radiating from every corner of the stadium.

Alba, Eli, Alexia’s uncle, and all of Alexia’s friends were completely caught up in the moment, cheering at the top of their lungs. The excitement was overwhelming, and we were all proudly sporting Alexia’s jersey, a united front of support for her. We were on the edge of our seats, anxiously waiting for that breakthrough moment.

Finally, after nearly 30 minutes of nail-biting tension, Spain scored. The stadium erupted into pure chaos. Everyone around us was euphoric, jumping up and down with pure joy, screaming and hugging each other.

It was a moment of collective celebration, with emotions running high and the feeling of victory inching closer.

As the clock ticked into the 90th minute, the anticipation grew even stronger. Then, finally, Alexia stepped onto the field. The crowd’s response was immediate—cheers and applause filled the air as she joined the game.

Her presence alone seemed to elevate the energy in the stadium even more.

With 15 more minutes added, the tension was almost unbearable. Then, at last, the final whistle blew. A wave of emotion washed over the field, and every player seemed to collapse—some from sheer happiness, others from the weight of disappointment.

From where I stood, I could see Alexia lying on the pitch, surrounded by her teammates who were leaping onto her in celebration. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything they had worked for, and it was incredible to witness it all unfold.

Eli pulled all of us into a heartfelt group hug as we celebrated the incredible victory. Our cheers were filled with uncontainable joy, and the tears streaming down our faces were a testament to our deep happiness.

It was an emotional and beautiful moment, seeing Spain triumphantly win the World Cup. The sense of accomplishment and elation was palpable, and the scene was truly unforgettable—one we will always cherish as a perfect culmination of their hard-fought journey.

Once we finally managed to steady our emotions, the scene on the field was nothing short of magical. The players were awarded their well-deserved medals, and the moment Spain lifted the World Cup trophy was met with a surge of cheers and applause.

The stadium buzzed with an electrifying atmosphere as fans celebrated the culmination of a remarkable journey.

The players took their time to engage with the crowd, posing for photos and signing autographs. Their joy was evident, and they seemed genuinely thrilled to share this victory with their supporters. It was a beautiful display of gratitude and connection between the team and the fans.

As the crowd began to thin out, a few of us made our way onto the field to find Alexia. The security staff, allowed us access. When Alexia spotted her family, she didn’t just walk; she sprinted towards them with such speed and emotion that it was as if she was propelled by sheer joy.

She embraced her mother and sister tightly, tears streaming down her face, her happiness radiating in every direction.

Her interactions with her friends were equally heartfelt. She greeted each one with the same infectious enthusiasm and warmth, her smile never fading.

I stood a little to the side, giving her the space she needed to enjoy these precious moments with her family and friends, while I chatted with the families of other players who were also basking in the afterglow of the victory.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Alexia scanning the crowd, her gaze searching for someone. She turned to her mother, who pointed in my direction.

When Alexia’s eyes finally locked onto mine, a look of recognition and excitement crossed her face. She made a beeline towards me, her expression filled with joy and relief.

As we met halfway, she enveloped me in a tight, heartfelt hug, lifting me off the ground with an energy that matched the day’s celebrations.

I whispered, “You did it,” into her ear, and as she buried her face in my neck, I felt a tender kiss graze my skin—a fleeting, sweet gesture that spoke volumes.

After a few moments of this intimate embrace, we slowly pulled away, but Alexia kept me close, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

She led me back to where her friends and family were gathered, her presence and warmth a constant source of comfort and joy amidst the ongoing celebrations.

After a while of mingling, celebrating with friends and family, and capturing memories with photos, it was just Alexia and me left on the small stage situated in the center of the field.

The revelry had started to wind down, and the festive atmosphere was beginning to settle into a more intimate moment.

We sat close together on the stage, surrounded by a sea of confetti that glittered in the fading light. I found myself idly playing with the colorful pieces scattered around us, a tangible reminder of the day’s excitement.

“I still can’t believe you’re a world champion now,” I said, my voice full of excitement. I gently touched the medal draped around her neck, admiring it’s shine and significance.

Alexia looked at me with a mix of disbelief and joy. “I can’t believe it either,” she responded, then, with a smile, she carefully removed her medal and placed it around my neck.

The gesture was both symbolic and heartfelt, and I couldn’t help but grin as I felt the weight of her achievement resting on me.

She moved even closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a tender embrace. I leaned into her, feeling a deep sense of contentment as she planted a soft, affectionate kiss on my cheek.

The warmth of her touch and the intimacy of the moment made it feel even more special.

In a hushed tone, she whispered, “Estoy lista” (I’m ready.)Her words were gentle but filled with a depth of emotion that caught me off guard. I looked at her, confusion and curiosity mingling in my expression.

“I’m ready to start a relationship…with you,” she continued, her voice steady but heartfelt. “I want us to be together officially.”

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!