#i've always thought that i just started getting better at keeping track

[sorrel-leaf-vespers]

I return with more Sitcom AU writing. I've been studying up, so I'm much more familiar with the AU now! That being said, looks like Alex is a wanted criminal now-

Alex was tired. They’d been staying up late at night lately to monitor and study Clyde when it was most active. Exhausting work, sure, but fascinating and incredibly fruitful. They’d learned so much about it. What they had learned basically boiled down to Clyde being a larger, spikier, more dangerous cat that could talk. Alex wondered if they could teach it to meow like one.

At the moment, Clyde was sleeping on the foot of Alex’s bed. It was nice and dark in Alex’s room with the new blackout curtains they had installed, which made it an ideal sleeping environment for the Veldigun. It was late in the afternoon, so it was bound to wake soon. Alex was in the kitchen making it a sandwich. They’d been trying to sleep for most of the day, too, but keeping Clyde away from the townsfolk of Eastridge County meant sacrificing catching up on sleep to keep it well-fed.

The thing was, Alex was starting to trust Clyde to a degree. Even on days where Alex was away from home for over 12 hours, Clyde would always stay in the house. Ever since that first incident, that first encounter, no one had died. The Smiling Snatcher was, as far as anyone knew, no longer snatching. That wasn’t to say Alex expected it to be perfectly tame. Clyde was still the equivalent of a wild beast. It still had its own thoughts and compulsions. It was still a killer. Heck, it could very well kill Alex at any moment if it wanted to. Alex fully understood that. Still, they couldn’t help but feel like they were starting to bond with the creature. There was still just one rule. Never touch it. That was how you got sick.

Alex heard something hit the floor in their bedroom. A few moments later, Clyde stalked into the room. “Good evening,” said Alex.

Clyde just rubbed its eye. It was still waking up.

“Friendly reminder that the repairman is coming to look at the lock on my back door in a few days. I’ll be home, but you’ll need to hide and keep quiet if you want to hang around.”

“Mhm…”

“Made you a sandwich, if you want one.”

That got its attention. Alex slid the plate across the counter, and only a few moments later, the sandwich was completely gone. “How’d you sleep?” Alex asked.

“Good enough,” said Clyde. “Do you HAVE to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get to the bottom of whatever is going on. Besides, the better I know the asylum, the better we’ll be able to plan getting Winfrey out.”

Clyde nodded, stretching its long limbs. “Alright…”

There was a sudden knock at the door. Alex and Clyde both jumped. What in the world would someone be doing at the house on a Wednesday afternoon? “Get in the closet,” they whispered to Clyde, who quickly complied. They took a step toward the door, but before they could get any closer, they heard whoever it was speak.

“Mx. Alex Williams? This is the Eastridge County Police. We’ve gotten a tip-off that you may have information on the Eastridge Demon. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Alex froze in their tracks. How did they know that they were harboring Clyde?

“The man who tipped us said that you would recognize his name. Does ‘Herbert Lankmann’ sound familiar at all? Said he’s your boss.”

A second officer began talking. “That must mean you work at the asylum. If anyone’s got information on the Eastridge Demon, it’s you.”

Alex felt their heart begin to race.

“Mx. Williams, Mr. Lankmann informed us that we are under full authority to arrest you for treason if you refuse to comply.”

Oh no.

Alex sprinted to their room and began packing a backpack. Clyde poked its head out of the closet, watching concernedly. “What are you doing?” it whispered.

“Getting out of here. They know you’re here. Help me out.”

The packing frenzy began. Extra clothes, hairbrush, hat.

“Mx. Williams, if you don’t answer the door, we will use force.”

Research notebook, spare notebook, pencils.

“Mx. Williams, this is your last warning.”

Some extra food, first aid kit, as much money as they could grab.

Something slammed into the door, shaking the whole house. Alex quickly zipped up the backpack. “Let’s go.”

They ran for the back door and tried the lock. The lock jammed. Something slammed into the door again. Alex heard cracking wood. Oh, that stupid back door. Stupid broken back door! “We’re stuck,” they said in a shaky voice.

A growl welled up in Clyde’s throat. “Not on my watch.”

Alex yelped in surprise as they felt Clyde grab their wrist and pull them into what could only be described as the most violent hug they’d ever experienced. It smashed through the back window, covering Alex’s head to shelter them from the shattering glass, cleared the fence with one leap, and took off running to the tree line. If Alex wasn’t in panic mode, they definitely would have tried to calculate how fast Clyde was moving. It was nothing short of inhuman.

Within seconds, Clyde was carrying Alex up a tree. Alex looked back at the house. They could see officers in the backyard, investigating the broken window and forcing the back door open. Multiple police cars were out front. It looked like some officers were inside, too. Their heart pounded. Their home…

“We need to go farther away,” said Alex. They didn’t want to look at the scene anymore.

“In case they decide to search the forest? Good plan.”

Clyde began hopping from tree to tree, holding Alex in one arm. Alex held back tears. They were terrified. They were a wanted traitor now. Lankmann would stop at nothing to recover them and Clyde.

Clyde finally hopped down to the ground. “We should be far enough away now,” it said. “Want me to let you go?”

That was when it fully clicked for Alex. Clyde had grabbed them. Clyde was… TOUCHING them. Alex began to panic again as they registered a pain in their hand. “Clyde… please say you’re just touching my clothes and not my skin.”

Clyde sucked in a gasp. “Oh…”

Alex looked down at the back of their hand. One of Clyde’s spikes was digging into it.

The shock and terror set in immediately as Alex wrestled free of Clyde’s grip. They’d touched Clyde. They had TOUCHED it. They knew the symptoms of Veldigun sickness well by now. The thought of having to go through that…

“I’m… sorry…” said Clyde, backing up slowly. “I just wanted to help…”

Alex stared at it for a few seconds before sitting down on the ground. “I know. I can’t be mad at you for trying to help me.”

They sat there for another while with their face in their hands. Their whole life had just been turned upside down. No home, hardly any belongings, an enemy of the state, and doomed to catch Veldigun sickness. There was no hope. Or, at least, there wouldn’t have been, if Clyde hadn’t draped an arm over Alex’s shoulder and said, “I have an idea.”

[senadimell]

Huh. Kinda wondering if this happened to me...

[minarinnn]

so in love with your best friend yuji hcs, may i request a continuation of that? and also maybe a writing of their first time ahhh and what you think he’d be like when he’s jealous. i know this is a lot but just choose what you feel like writing!! looking forward to your future stuff <3

hiii, tysm!! i tried to write everything, sorry if i missed smth. i lowk wanted to write more ab this too but you gave me a great excuse to do it + some ideas so, thank youuu<3

content/trigger warning: college au, characters are aged up!!, f!reader, p in v, creampie, jealousy, virgin sex, fingering (f! receiving), slighttt size kink

word count: 2.7k

“FIRST DATE”

nobara is sick and tired of hearing yuuji talk about you and not act on his feelings. especially when she knows that you actually have feelings for the pink haired male. but she promised she wouldn't tell yuuji about your feelings and she also promised yuuji that she wouldn't tell you about his

it didn't bother her much until yuuji started talking about how this guy in your physics class has been awfully chummy with you

"he even asked if she wanted to grab a bite to eat with him, can you believe that?" yuuji grumbled. he had been talking about this for at least 15 minutes now. nobara rolled her eyes for 7th time that day. "itadori, she's a beautiful girl, she's gonna have people asking her out, especially if she doesn't have a boyfriend" she pointed out, making yuuji pout and grumble under his breath

nobara sighed, leaning her cheek against her palm "you could just confess and the whole problem would be over". yuuji's eyes widened, a slight hue of pink adorning his face. "i can't do that... she's.. she'll just reject me" he sighed

nobara's patience was starting to run thin. she'd been there for yuuji through countless conversations about his feelings for you, always playing devil's advocate and trying to nudge him in the right direction. but after months of hearing him complain and fret over the situation, she couldn't take it anymore

"itadori, i know you're scared, but believe me, it's better to just rip off the band-aid and confess your feelings" she said firmly, tired of being in the middle of the both of you "and if she doesn't reciprocate your feelings, then at least you'll have closure and you can move on"

yuuji looked at her warily. deep down he knew she was right, but the thought of confessing his feelings and being rejected was still nerve-wracking for him. he took a deep breath and nodded. "you're right, kugisaki. i need to do this" he said, determination written all across his face as he stood up, walking away from the table

yuuji stopped in his tracks, turning around with a nervous chuckle "i mean, i don't have to tell her right no-" "go itadori!" nobara yelled, making the boy flinch and continue walking

yuuji walked down the hallway, his mind racing with thoughts of how he was going to confess his feelings to you. he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, but he pushed those feelings aside and focused on his task at hand

he saw you walking around the hallway, shooting you a quick nervous smile and walking towards you. you smiled, continuing to walk to him and meeting him halfway.

"hey yuu" you smiled. oh how he loved that smile and that nickname you called him that always made his heart flutter. "heyy... can we..." he paused, searching for the right words "can we go out sometime... as more than just friends?"

you furrow your brows and tilt your head, your adorable smile still plastered on your face "more than just friends?" you question. yuuji took a deep breath and took a step forward, his heart hammering in his chest. he couldn't believe he was about to do this, but he knew he had to.

his eyes were locked on yours as he summoned all his courage. his nerves were still getting the better of him, but he forced himself to keep going.

"there's something i've been meaning to tell you for a long time now," yuuji began, his voice hoarse. "i... i.." the words got caught in his throat, and he found himself struggling to continue. he took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves

"i'm in love with you" he said finally, his eyes never leaving yours "i think about you all the time, and every time i see you, it feels like my heart is about to explode. i know this might come as a shock to you, but i had to tell you how i feel. i just couldn't keep it to myself anymore"

as yuuji spoke, he felt as though a weight was lifting off his shoulders. he had said what he needed to say, and now it was up to you to decide how to respond. yuuji held his breath, waiting for your reaction

you smiled at yuuji, feeling a warm tingle in your chest. "then it's a date" you said, your voice filled with excitement. yuuji was dumbfounded for a second. blinking a few times to process it. that was not the words he was expecting

you put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze "you can text me the details later, yeah?". yuuji nodded, not being able to formulate words just yet. "i'll see you around" you say, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. yuuji could feel his brain short circuit and as you walked away all he could think about is how he was gonna tell kugisaki all bout what just happened

your date with yuuji was going great. you and yuuji had spent the afternoon exploring a beautiful art museum together. yuuji spent a lovely time admiring you. he claims you were the real art

after a few hours of admiring the artwork, yuuji suggested grabbing a bite to eat to prolong the date a little longer. you were more than happy to oblige, especially since the thought of spending more time with him made your heart flutter

as you and yuuji walked, he couldn't help but smile. he was having such a great time with you, it felt like nothing in the world could bring him down

as the two of you walked to the nearby restaurant, yuuji reached out to open the door for you, earning a warm smile in return. the restaurant was bustling with activity, but the noise faded into the background as you and yuuji sat down at your table

as you sat across from yuuji, he couldn't help but stare at you. the soft, warm light of the candles illuminated your face, making your eyes sparkle and your lips shine. yuuji felt like he was in a dream, and he couldn't believe that he finally had the chance to spend some time alone with you romantically

absolutely nothing could ruin this moment

but he spoke to soon. standing at your table was the guy that had been chummy with her in her physics class. why the hell was he the waiter??. yuuji's smile instantly dropped and he couldn't help but let out a sigh

"oh- what a wonderful surprise!" he spoke to you, completely ignoring yuuji "you look absolutely stunning". you chuckle nervously at his comment, immediately picking up on the tension that surrounded the table

the tension in the air was palpable as yuuji watched that guy continue to flirt with you. yuuji felt a pang of jealousy and couldn't help but scowl at the thought of that guy trying to steal you away from him (even though you weren't his). he tried to keep his cool, but it was clear that the waiter's presence was bothering him greatly

"would you like todays special?" the guy asked you. you hum, turning to look at yuuji before speaking "what're you gonna order, yuu?". his head perked up at the use of his nickname, making his heart flutter a bit. "uhh.. yeah i do" he spoke, glancing at the waiter who had finally acknowledged his presence "i just didn't want to interrupt his futile attempt at flirting"

you couldn't help but choke out a chuckle as the waiter visibly glared at yuuji. "u-um.. that's our orders then" you tried not to laugh. the guy left with an eye roll and yuuji followed his movements with a glare

after he's farther away you let out a low laugh and yuuji looks at you a bit confused. "were you jealous just now, yuu?" you say, your laughter dying out but a smile still lingering on your face. yuuji's face flushed in embarrassment. "w-what?? no" he lied, averting his gaze from you

"it's okay, yuu. i'm not surprised that you were jealous" you said with a chuckle "i mean, who wouldn't be? that guy was definitely flirting with me"

yuuji felt a sense of relief wash over him. he didn't want to come across as possessive or insecure, but it was hard not to feel a tinge of jealousy in that moment. "how humble" yuuji scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully at you

the rest of the day went amazing and the guy had actually switched tables after yuuji humiliated him in front you. you were both scared of ruining the friendship but this date proved that you could both have something more and that it could actually last

yuuji walked you to your dorm. the walk filled with laughs and conversations about your times in high school were yuuji did stupid stuff all the time and you were there to scold him

standing at your front door, you looked for your keys in your purse. the keys jingled in your hand as you pulled them out. "i had a great time tonight" yuuji spoke from behind you, a warm and tender smile adorning his face. you turn to him a shy smile gracing your lips. "yuu... do you wanna... y'know.. spend the night?" you muttered, batting your eyelashes at him

his eyes widened and his brain ran wild with lewd thought. "s-sure" he spoke out, almost immediately. you chuckle lightly before opening the door and heading inside

you're straddled on top of yuuji, sloppily making out. his hands on your hips, rolling them forward, making you grind on his aching cock

you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. you knew yuuji was big but you didn't know how big. he was massive, and he was definitely going to break you

yuuji broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both as you pant heavily. "you sure you wanna do this?" he asked, his breath heavy and his eyes clouded with lust. you nod eagerly, beginning to take your shirt off and revealing your lacy bra

yuuji can't help but ogle your breast. "shit" he muttered, feeling his dick throb at the sight of you. your hands go to your back as you un-clip your bra, revealing your magnificent tits. his hands hesitantly travel up your body, cupping a boob in his hand and squeezing it

he let out a shaky breath as you tugged on his shirt, immediately taking it off and your hands landing on his ripped chest. he couldn't help but whine at your touch. boy, was he sensitive. you stood up, pulling your bottoms down as he did the same

you couldn’t help but stare at his hard, veiny dick, it was so pretty but you just knew that you were gonna be wrecked after this. your hands subconsciously wrap around your stomach, trying to cover your exposed body in embarrassment. "do you umm... do you have any idea how to do this?" you asked, embarrassment noticiable in your tone

yuuji tried his hardest not to drool at the sight of your naked body, keeping his eyes respectfully on yours. "i've seen a few videos" he shrugged nervously. you sat on the bed next to him, feeling his gaze on your chest. "can i.. take the lead?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes desperately roaming yours for approval

you gave a small nod and he wasted no time getting on top of you, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to spread your legs apart. his calloused hands roamed your soft skin and every touch sent a shiver through your spine. “if you want me to stop just say the word and i will. no questions asked, kay?”

you nod again, not being able to formulate words in your current moment. he pushed a single finger in, your wetness smearing down to his knuckles. you squirm a bit. yuuji’s fingers were definitely way more longer and thicker than your own

yuuji pushed his finger in and out of you slowly, your walls gripping on his thick finger as he stared in awe. all he wanted to do was slam his dick into you and have you tighten around him

“think you can take another one?” he whispered, a second finger grazing your entrance. “mhm” you hummed, your hands on his broad shoulders, your nails digging small crescent moons on them

yuuji pushed a second finger in and you can feel your pussy being stretched, a stingy feeling soon turning into pleasure. his pace fastened and moans began to escape your plump lips. “f-fuck ahh” your moans were just heavenly for yuuji and he couldn’t get enough of them. his fingers began to do scissor motions inside your walls, stretching them even more

part of him enjoyed watching you squirm like that because of his fingers. it just made him imagine how you’d be when he sunk his cock into you. he pulled his finger out, aligning himself at your entrance. he hissed at the contact. his virgin cock ached to be sunked into your pretty virgin hole that he so desperately wanted to destroy (with love)

he took your hand in his, slowly sinking himself into your gummy walls. your arousal fresh around his dick, he couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. he was so gonna brag to megumi about this later

you can feel yourself getting full, taking a quick glance where you and him were connected to see that his dick was only half way in. “shitt” you groan, your back arching slightly. “w-what’s wrong?” yuuji asks frantically, worry and concern very visible on his tone and face. “you’re just- aghh.. really big yuu” you explained

yuuji felt his ego soar into the sky at your words. he let out a breathy laugh, suddenly feeling bold, his nervousness seeming to slip away. “you can take it tho, right pretty?” he cooed. you clenched down on him, earning a whine as he continued to sink himself in deeper

“you’re- fuck, s’tight” he groaned, his thumb rubbing circles on your hips. he waited a few minutes for you to adjust, the pain turning into pleasure as you gave him the green light to move

he rocked his hips slowly. he was soft and gentle with his movements at first, being careful not to accidentally break you. that lasted about 40 seconds. your pussy began to tighten around him, making him want to hit deeper and harder into you

part of him wanted to fuck you silly while the other part of him wanted to go slow and kiss all over your body. so he combined them. he thrusted fast and deep into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. his lips worked their way through your body, kissing you all over

one hand intertwined with yours and the other holding your hips in place. you could feel yourself seeing stars. yuuji was filling you up so good. stretching and molding your pretty little hole to the shape of his big, veiny cock

his tip hitting your sweet spot every time without fail. your tits bouncing up and down to the rhythm of his thrust. you could feel a knot forming in your stomach as yuuji’s thrust became sloppier

“‘m s’close” you moan out. you can feel him groan against your neck that was probably littered with hickeys. “me too” he panted, his thrust faltering “can i cum inside?”. you clenched harder around him, nodding eagerly “yes- fuckk, yesss”

you felt the knot in your stomach break, your back arching as you scratched yuujis shoulder. with a few more thrust, yuuji dumped his seed into your velvety walls, successfully painting them white. he pulled out, watching your mixed cum trail out of your abused hole

it was such a lewd sight but oh boy did he enjoy it. this was surely a first date the two of you would remember for the rest of your lives

© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[wonderlandwalker]

Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Helmet Hair

Requested: yes

Prompt: 51) "Can I wear your helmet?"

Warnings: none

Charles sat in his simulator at his apartment, focused on the virtual track. The familiar hum of the equipment filled the room as he navigated the digital twists and turns. Y/n had been studying yet she couldn't help but sneak glances over over her boyfriend maneuvering his way around the virtual track. She thought of a challenge so she stood up and walked over to Charles, a mischievous glint in her eye. He looked up confused. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Mind if I join?" He smiled. "Of course, amore." He stood up and helped her into the seat. He began describing the different parts of the car to her, making sure to keep it simplified as to not confuse her. "It seems difficult, eh?" Y/n shrugged. "Seems simple enough. I hink I've got it." Charles smiled. "If you say so. Let's start with a simple track." He chose Austria and off she went, racing her heart out.

"See how difficult it is to drive the car?" Charles teased. "It's actually easy." He arched a brow. "Excuse me-" He was cut off by Y/n pointing to the times. "See? New personal best. This is the fastest the Leclerc car has ever gone." He watched in awe as she did indeed break his record.

"It's not as simple as it seems in real life, though." She scoffed. "Oh, please. I'm a natural at this." He huffed. "I bet I can make it more challenging." Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "How so?" Charles nodded towards the shelves of helmet he had. Her eyes lit up more than before. "Can I actually wear your helmet?" Charles smiled. "Of course. Pick one and you canwear it while racing. Let's see how good you really are." Y/n pointed towards the generic helmet he always used. Charles stood up and grabbed it, placing it carefully over her head. "Alright, let's add some flair to this race." Her face felt squished within the helmet and her boyfriend could see her cheeks squished up against the soft interior. Charles couldn't contain his laughter at the sight. "Shut up! Let's race!"

"Ready for the challenge, Senna?" He joked, choosing Monaco as the next track. "Absolutely!" With the helmet snugly in place, Y/n dove back into the virtual world, determined to prove herself. Charles watched with admiration as she navigated the turns of Monaco, both of them sharing laughs and cheers throughout the playful competition. "You just hit the barrier-"

"I know. Its the hairpin. Allow it." Charles hid his laugh as she continued on, overtaking one by one and borderline illegally. "Did you just hit Max?" Charles asked. "Im just being competitive." She replied. "And oh look, Carlos is in the harbour because of you now." She rolled her eyes. "He shouldn't have been there." She retorted. "Where? The track?" She giggled at his jokes. "I'm first. I don't know what you're on about." Charles watched as she went onto the final lap, hitting nearly every corner in doing so. "Oh? Look at that. Leclerc, P1." Charles clapped for her. "I won your home race before you did." He shot her a glare. "Behave." She pecked his cheek. "I'm kidding. You know that."

"Are you though?" Y/n chuckled, lifting the helmet off her head. Charles burst out laughing upon seeing her messy hair standing in all directions. "You make helmet hair look way better." Y/n said, fixing her hair in the reflection of the screen in front of her. "Not as good as you." He teased. "Oh shut up." She said, slapping his arm playfully. "Are you going back to study?" Charles asked. "I am. Have fun." Y/n smiled, kissing her boyfriend. "And thanks for the helmet."

"Don't mention it. I'll be out soon anyway." Charles replied. "Love you." She said, leaving gthe room. "Je t'aime." He called after her, getting back to racing and trying to break his girlfriend's records.

[thoughtidtry]

Dress Pt.2 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. 2.6k+ words (Honestly thought it would be shorter lol) LMK in the comments if you would like a pt.3! Part: 1 2 3

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try."

From the moment you were in Lando's arms, he never let go more than he had to. While showing you around the McLaren garage he made sure to guide you through with slight touches or nudges in the right direction. You knew there was no way he was letting you out of his sight. With his hand placed firmly on the small of your back, he explained every corner of the garage in painstaking detail while knowing you probably didn't really care. Something about the way you attentively listen though made it seem like you hung on his every word. 

Really, you had just missed his voice. Phone calls could only do so much to make up for the distance between you two. It had been something you both had gotten used to over time. Now you didn't know if you could ever go back to not being beside him. The hours before the race started passed faster than you had hoped they would. Something just clicked when you were together like you had never been apart in the first place. 

Soon you watched from the side as Lando talked with the engineers and strategists about the race plan. You had seen him in racing attire before, back in secondary school, but the memory did not prepare you for just how good he looked. He couldn't stop smiling, not when he felt your gaze on his every move. After he had finished talking to everyone, he made his way back over to you with a headset in hand. 

"Here let me put this on you, it connects to the radio in my car so you can hear me during the race."

You nodded along in understanding as he placed the headset on your head and fixed it to the correct settings. Earlier, Lando had told you they recently made upgrades to the car and that it would be the first race to test them. This made you hopeful for the results of the race, you knew how much Lando wanted a win. The excitement of everyone in the garage could be felt as they made final preparations.

"You're gonna do great Lan, I just know it."

You beamed up at him with the widest smile possible. Lando couldn't help but smirk a bit letting your confidence boost his own. He reached to stroke your cheek as he spoke.

" Of course I will, I've got you here to cheer me on. I always do better when I know you're watching the race. Just imagine how I'll do today with you actually here."

You look away feeling yourself start to blush while trying to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, Lando's name was called as the race was about to start. Quickly, you stand and swiftly peck his cheek whispering good luck in his ear before pushing him towards the calling engineers. He looked back, shaking his head a bit before jogging to put his helmet and other stuff on.

"My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

Watching a race in person was exhilarating for you. The energy in the garage made every turn, overtake, and pit stop more suspenseful. Getting to hear Lando’s voice through it all made the race even more real. He hadn’t had a good start to the race but was quickly making up for it by getting the fastest lap multiple times. 

A crash happened towards the back of the race resulting in a safety car being put onto the track. Lando had already passed the pit when the car was released, giving him an edge. Once the race started again his engineer was avid about keeping a gap between him and Max. As the final laps dwindled, you felt overcome with hope. This could be it, Lando’s first win. 

As Lando crossed the finish line you heard his cheers over the radio. The joy and relief was evident as you knew how long he had waited for this. 

One of the mechanics was kind enough to escort you over to where the winners would park their cars. The whole McLaren garage ended up walking together to the spots. Once you all arrived, you slipped a bit away. As much as this was Lando’s win it was theirs and they didn’t need some random girl in the middle of their celebration. 

You watch from your spot as Lando pulls up and stands on the top of his cars. The crowd was cheering his name and many drivers made a beeline for him after parking their own cars. It was clear how loved he was not only by his own team but by everyone here. His large smile would forever be etched into your mind as he received hugs from everyone and even started a crowd surf with the McLaren employees. Your hand were shaking with all the excitement built up in your system. 

Everything was perfect, at least you thought so, but you noticed Lando kept looking around. Was there a specific driver he was looking for or some important person? 

Lando was on cloud nine getting out of his car parked in P1. He was a race winner after so long fighting for this moment it felt right to have you here. He wanted to find you and celebrate as soon as possible. 

As all the drivers came up to him he wanted to soak in the moment but he just kept looking around for you. Were you still at the garage? Turning to see the McLaren team waiting behind the barrier he knew what they were waiting for. 

Starting at a full sprint he launched himself into their awaiting arms. It was then on top of his teammate he caught a glimpse of you off to the side with a smile as bright as the sun.  As soon as he was back on his feet he was making his way to you. 

When Lando’s eyes found you it was like time stopped for a few moments. Before you knew it he was headed straight for you. He crashed into you, wrapping you up in a bone-crushing hug while lifting you off your feet. You squeal a bit as he begins to spin you both around before tilting your head back to laugh. 

“You did it Lan! You won!”

Lando set you back on the ground as you started to speak. He could see the spark of joy in your eyes as you spoke. 

“Told you I’d do better with you here”

Lando exclaimed, smirking as he looked down at you in admiration. 

“Knowing you were cheering for me made all the difference. I couldn’t disappoint you after you came all this way.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, he could never disappoint you. It didn’t matter to you whether he came in first or very last place as long as he was happy. Before you could tell him that a staff member came up to grab Lando for his post win interviews. He nodded to let them know he was on his way and let you know he’d be only about half an hour. Calling another McLaren mechanic over, he asked if they would see you back to his driver room after the podium till he was finished with the media. 

With that he was off and you followed the mechanic over to where the podium celebration was to be held. The ceremony was amazing as the two other drivers covered Lando head to toe in champagne. He didn’t even have a chance to open his before the other two started their assault which made you laugh. Once they had moved on to their next victim, Lando walked to the front of the podium doing his signature move to start spraying the champagne all over the crowd before spraying the other driver as well. 

"I don't want you like a best friend"

The interviews didn’t take long so Lando was back and ready to leave the paddock not long after arriving. Oscar had been sneaky when helping you book a hotel for your stay and you were apparently staying at the same place as the drivers were. 

Lando noted to thank Oscar again as he ushered you to his car stopping along the way to sign autographs and take pictures. He filled you on the plans for tonight as you drove and what time to be ready by. 

Once at the hotel, you went to your separate hotel rooms to get ready. You pulled a dress out of your suitcase packed specifically for this see Lando again. It was a beautiful purple dress that hugged the top of your torso while still being flowy. After taking a shower and getting ready you texted Lando to let him know. Turns out most of the drivers were already dressed and down in the lobby. Quickly you grabbed your clutch and made your way down.

Lando was smiling as he put his phone away after answering your text. He and a couple other drivers had finished getting dressed early so they were in the lobby while waiting for the rest. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and found all the other drive smirking at him with knowing eyes. Max was the one to speak up always most blunt when it came to feelings.

"So are you gonna tell her how you feel or are you just gonna let her go again?"

He didn't know much about your friendship with Lando but he knew the younger boy was smitten. The other drivers piled on words of encouragement and how they could tell you liked him back. The more the others added, the pinker Lando's cheeks got until he finally defended himself.

" I just don't want to lose her guys. Now shut up she is on her way down."

The other drivers chuckled while shaking their heads but they left Lando alone after that which he was thankful for. Looking around he noticed you starting to make your way over and stopped in his tracks. He hadn't forgotten how beautiful you were but in that dress, it was like you were enchanted. He knew Max was right, he wanted more from you than just a friendship, he always had. Ever since that day in secondary when he had introduced himself he had wanted more, to know you more, hear your laugh more, be near you more.

The sound of laughing gave away their location long before you saw the group. From the looks of it, they had been teasing Lando about something as his face was lightly pink. He was looking towards the ground wearing all black and a backward cap. It made you smile a bit at how flustered he seemed by whatever they had said. Only a few seconds had passed when he caught your presence.

You grew a little nervous under his gaze and began to play with the hem of your dress as you came to a stop in front of him. Looking up into his eyes, a mostly green color now, you softly whispered

"Hey, Lan."

You clear your throat while tearing your eyes away from his to speak to the whole group.

"Hey guys, everyone ready to celebrate?"

The other driver let out a cheer and Carlos showed up a moment later. Apparently, he was the last one the group was waiting on so everyone began to decide how we were getting to the club.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off”

Once at the club the boy immediately went to grab drinks while you stayed back with the other drivers' girlfriends. Girlfriends. Something you could only wish to be. They were nice and asked many questions about how you were, what you do, and how long you have known Lando. You explained with ease the timeline that led you here. Lily was the first to speak, seeming to be a bit in shock.

"Wait, you're the mysterious best friend? The one Lando has kept hidden away like a treasured prize?"

The other girl nodded in agreement at her statement. Had Lando been too embarrassed to talk about you? You felt a bit ashamed for a moment looking down. Lily was the first to notice, adding on with a kind smile and a bit of laughter.

"Oh, no! It's not a bad thing! Trust me. He lights up anytime you even text him. It's more like he doesn't want to share you honestly. I was just surprised he finally let the princess out of her tower to be seen by the rest of us. That boy is head over heels-"

Before Lily could finish her sentence you felt an arm snake around your waist. You turned assuming it would be Lando but you had been mistaken. The man before you was taller with brown eyes and reddish-brown hair.

"Hey, wanna go dance with me beautiful?"

The man smiled as he looked you up and down. He wasn't a bad-looking guy, not as handsome as Lando though. Someone else probably would have agreed, but someone else wasn't in love with their best friend. You tried to step away as his hand on your waist just felt wrong but he was able to grab onto your arm before you were fully free.

"Oh come on, just one dance couldn't hurt. I doubt your friends would mind."

You tried to pull your arm free but his grip was firm. The panic started to set in as you looked to see where Lando was. He would help, he would always save you.

"Her friends might not mind but her boyfriend definitely will."

A familiar voice called from behind you as your head snapped toward it in relief. There he was, your Lando, he looked pissed, flanked by an annoyed-looking Max and an angry-looking Carlos. The man quickly released your arm and turned to storm off with a scoff. You stumbled back a bit before Lando caught you. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist before leaning down to speak in your ear.

"Can't let you out of my sight for a minute without someone trying to steal you huh?"

Your face turned bright red as you turned to him feeling a wave of confidence. Was he jealous? The look on his face was downright murderous at least. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, you leaned up to speak in his ear.

"We both know you're the only person this dress would come off for."

Lando stood in shock for a moment as his grip tightened on your waist. It only took a moment for his lips to crash into yours. You could taste the alcohol he had been drinking and feel how tense his body was before he relaxed into the kiss. Sure, you had kissed other guys before but never had anyone kissed you with so much overwhelming passion. Breaking away from the kiss he sighed.

"How about we get out of here?"

You can only nod still thunderstruck by how passionately he had kissed you. Lando smirked at the effect he has on you while leading you over to the group of driver not far away.

"Hey guys, were gonna head out."

The drivers look in between the two of you with knowing glances and exchange goodbyes with Lando as you two start to leave. You look back and wave goodbye to everyone as Lily gives you a thumbs-up. Blush rushes to your face as you both get into the taxi with Lando giving the hotel's address. You can't help but stare at him in the moonlight. He glances down at you with a smile.

" You know I'm never letting you go, right?"

You smile up at him with love-struck eyes. At this moment you decide, you would do want ever needed to stay by his side from then on. The company you worked for has offices abroad, and you could travel if needed, you would do anything to stay like this.

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

Pt.3?

Taglist: @scarletwidow3000

[arminsumi]

it's the hair.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying

SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.

WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.

"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"

"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.

he squints skeptically at you.

from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?

and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.

"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."

his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"

"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"

suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.

"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"

"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."

satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.

holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...

he texts you.

satoru — are u home yet

he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.

you — no why

satoru — where are u

you — bridge

satoru — what are u doing

you — lol so many questions

you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics

satoru — wtf without me??

you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset

satoru — see u there

he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.

when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.

"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"

he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.

"are you sick?" he asks.

"what? no?"

"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.

"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."

"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."

"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.

the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.

"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."

you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.

he catches you looking at him, "what!"

"what?"

"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"

"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.

"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"

"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.

"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."

you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."

"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."

you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"

"is it the haircut!"

"it's the haircut."

"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."

"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."

"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"

you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"

he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.

"oh."

"you're so dumb, satoru."

"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.

now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.

it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.

"so you like it?"

"i love it."

"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.

"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.

"fluff my hair." he says.

"no way, lice-boy."

"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."

he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.

and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.

"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.

he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.

you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.

"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.

"i'm sorry."

he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.

then he breaks it.

"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.

"you're a menace." you tell him.

"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.

"of course i do."

"good, good."

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[norrisleclercf1]

It’s A Lie

Pairing: Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Cursing, Medical talk, C#ncer, hospital, ANGST, etc.

Words: 2.2K

Request: Yes/No

A/N: Did I write this in an hour? Yep, since that race was…not the best, decided to make you actually feel things

Max had 3 top moments in his life. The 3rd was getting called up to drive for Red Bull. 2nd was winning his first World Driver's Championship. The 1st was a day he'll never forget, which was marrying you. It was a day filled with joy and tears. Max never thought you'd agree to marry him. When he was ready to ask, he thought about puking for fear of you saying no.  

But you said yes with a shake of your head and tears falling. Max couldn't control his emotions as he cried and hugged you close. The ring was wholly forgotten at the moment. No pictures were taken in a small private ceremony with the drivers and others. Just a memory for you and everyone else. 

Max snuck one picture of the wedding. He tasked Daniel with getting a Polaroid picture of your first kiss as a couple. Max kept the picture in his wallet and looked before every race. The two of you were perfect together. With his harsh temper on the track, he was calm and soft at home. The roles switched between you two. You were the harsh-tempered one at home. 

Max thought you hung the moon. He was so damn in love with you. Even considered retiring now just so the both of you could start a family. You laughed and kissed him. Telling him to enjoy his youth and speed. He nodded and pulled you closer, talking about everything and anything. 

He knew you better than you did, so when he noticed your slight change in sleep, he thought something was wrong. 

"Max, stop. I've been working slightly longer hours. I'm just catching up on some sleep." You laugh, fixing your usual coffee while your husband grimaces. "Snoepje, this isn't normal for you. Please just rest for the day." (little candy) Max pleads, but you just groan and slam your mug down. "Max, baby, I'm okay. I slept a little bit past my alarm." Max shakes his head and pulls his hair slightly. "Try 5 hours. It's the afternoon." He sighs, and you cock your head to the side. "What?" You spin and see the time. It wasn't 9 in the morning, but almost 1 in the afternoon. 

You usually woke around 6 or 7 in the morning to jog with Max, but this time. You slept well over your standard time. Maybe something was wrong. You didn't feel sick, perhaps just tired, but that was it. "Okay, so I was exhausted." You joke, yet your husband's stone face isn't in the mood for joking. 

"Okay, okay." You give up, knowing you wouldn't win this one, and email your boss saying you wouldn't be coming in. Your boss didn't have a problem with you taking the day off as you were always working. 

Max was already planning a vacation for both of you, wanting to take advantage of this. "Max, no. Come lay down with me." Giving your best puppy dog eyes, Max tries hard not to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind. "Snoepje, maybe go to the doctor." He pleads to move to lie on top of you, placing his head on your stomach. Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft thumps of your heartbeat before a thought comes to mind. "Wait? Could you be pregnant?" Sitting up fast, you choke on a laugh at his blinding happiness.  

"No, Max. I finished my period a few days ago." You sigh, closing your eyes again, and Max nods. "Maybe that's it. Your hormones are balancing back out, and you're tired." Humming in agreement, knowing he was convincing himself that everything was okay. "Yes, Max. Now lay down, please." You beg your hyperactive puppy of a husband. Max smiles and lies down, forgetting all about it. 

It wasn't till another 6 months when Max noticed you weren't the same self. This time you joined him for a race, as he was keen on keeping you close to ensure everything was okay. Laughing with Max, Christian, and Adrian, you felt lightheaded but waved it off. 

"Oh god, Y/n." Christian noticed it first, pulling Max's attention to see the small line of cherry red fall from your nose. "Snoepje!" Ge grabs a clean rag and pushes it to your nose, making you groan from the severe pressure. "Max, not so hard." You wheeze, unable to breathe, which has Max easing the tension. "Why is your nose bleeding?" Eyes wild with concern which have you giggling.

"Max, it's the pressure change in the climate. It happened to me all the time as a kid. "It'll stop soon. See?" Pulling the rag away, you dab your nose and show it isn't bleeding any more. Max sighs and knocks his forehead with yours, smiling like a fool from his freak-out. "Are you okay?" He whispers, watching Adrian and Christian back off, leaving the two of you alone. "Of course." You smile, lying to him, not wanting to tell him about you being lightheaded. 

"You promise?" Vulnerability all over him, hating when you lied to him or not telling him there was a problem. "Max. I promise you. I'm okay." You whisper and lean up, kissing your husband on the lips and then his ring. "Now, go win, and maybe I'll show you just how okay I am." You giggle and reach down, grabbing him, which has him shiver and pull away. Laughing, he nods and goes to win the race. 

After 2 months, you started to notice a severe problem. There was indeed something wrong. Those nosebleeds and being lightheaded became more frequent because Max told the team he couldn't race one weekend and stay home with you. After fighting, he was away for a race, and you were in the doctor's office. Getting the news of what was wrong with you was received with a smile and a nod leaving to call Max. 

"Anemic? That's fucking it?" Max snaps over the phone while you fix your tea, something to help calm your nerves. "Anemia, yes, that's what the doctor said." Closing your eyes, you wait for the room's spinning to fade. "No. No. That doctor is fucking stupid. There is no way with the bloody noses and you almost fainting anytime you move; it can't just be fucking ANEMIA!" In the end, he's yelling. In the background, you hear JP telling Max to go somewhere else. 

"Max, they said I have severe anemia and just need to change my diet and take some pretty hefty iron supplements." You sip your tea and lie on the couch, exhaustion settling deep into your bones. "I'm coming home, fuck this race." He curses more in Dutch, refusing to be away from you like this. "Baby, don't. This is a huge race for you and Red Bull. I'm fine, okay? Chrissy is coming over later to cook. So I won't be alone." Chrissy being your maid and chief, was like a second mother. "Y/n, I'm not fighting this. I must be home with you, not driving some metal around circles. You're more important." He spits, hearing hurried rustling, and you take deep breaths to control your temper. 

"Max Emilian Verstappen! Don't you fucking come home! If you do, I'll divorce you." You snap, tired of him freaking out over your health. Silence is met before Max chuckles. "Then we're getting a divorce. I'm coming home." Max hangs up, and you sigh, giving up. 

"Y/n? Darling? It's me." You wake to Chrissy yelling and walking into the living room and stop seeing your state. "Let's take a shower and get some color in you. Before Max sees." Chrissy knew the truth and was helping you. It ate at you every day, but you wanted to live an everyday life as much as possible.  

"He's on the way home." You whisper, Chrissy nodding, helping you to the shower. 

"Y/N! Chrissy!" Max's voice booms through the house, and it meets with laughter. Heading to the kitchen, and sees you smiling and laughing. You look healthy and happy. Color blushed your skin and saw life back in you; maybe it was just anemia. 

"Snoepje." You turn and smile at him widely. "Guess we're getting that divorce, hmm?" You playfully push him, but Max grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest. You hide your pain and wrap your arms around his waist. "We'll get a divorce when I die." He jokes, kissing the top of your head before leaning over and kissing Chrissy's temple. He mouths a thank you, and Chrissy smiles and returns to cooking. Max stayed away from the track for almost 3 months. 

His first weekend back and winning, he'll never forget getting that phone call after the race, thinking it was you congratulating him. Except he's met with Chrissy crying, loud beeps in the back, hurried shouts, and Chrissy telling Max to come home now. Rushing home, he goes to the hospital, breaking every law in history to get to you. Max was still in his race suit. That's how fucking scared he was. 

"Chrissy!" Seeing her, he rushes to her as she cries softly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobs, pulling away from Max. "What are you sorry about? Chrissy? What's going on?" Max yells as Chrissy shakes her head and rushes out, unable to handle seeing him fall apart. 

"Will someone tell me what the FUCK IS GOING ON!" He roars, panic pumping through his veins as a nurse rushes to his side. "Mr. Verstappen, we need you to lower your voice." The nurse speaks in a soft tone leading him to a room. 

Pushing the door open, Max sobs softly, seeing your state. A shell of yourself lay on the bed. How could you come to this state before him? Thin, so very thin, hair dull and stringy. How could he have missed this? Why didn't he see this? He was home; what did he miss? He moves to your side, lifts up your hand, and wails behind his hand so he doesn't wake you.  

"Late-stage glioblastoma. Shame we caught it so late. Nothing we can do now. She signed a DNR." A nurse sighs, checking your vitals, and Max lifts his head. "What? What's a glioblastoma, a fucking DNR? What's going on?" The nurse turns, and her eyes widen, seeing the confused look on his face. 

"Let me get the doctor." Rushing out of the room, an older man with a pristine white coat walks in and closes the door. He moves around silently and takes his jacket off. 

"They tell me you are unaware of what is going on with your wife." his voice was soft but static like he was even having a hard time doing this. "She has severe anemia. Why are they saying she has something called glioblas-glioblastoma and signed a DNR. What the fuck is a DNR?" Max's foot bounces, holding your hand, praying you open your eyes. 

"Glioblastoma is a form of brain cancer. It's uncurable. Your wife is in the late stages. Meaning treatment will not help. I diagnosed her a little over a year ago. Treatment was working, but......sadly I told her not too long ago we couldn't do anything else." Taking a deep breath, the doctor continues. "A DNR means Do Not Resucitate. When her heart rate stops, we can't perform life-saving measures. Mr. Verstappen...I'm so very sorry." 

Max laughs and shakes his head, having heard nothing after being told it was cancer. It was static around him. You have been dying this entire time and never once told him. How could this have happened? 

"I was home. I took time off, and she was dying before me; how could I not see this?" He asks, not wanting an answerback. "I'll leave you be." The doctor whispers and leaves as Max moves closer, burying his head into your stomach and crying. "How could you do this?" He sobs. 

"I'm sorry." He yanks away and sees you awake, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Why? I would've retired. I would've stayed by your side the entire time. We could've done so many things together. Why?!" He yells, and you just move your hand cupping his face. 

"And have you watched me die? Max, I couldn't handle that." You whisper, but your husband just shakes his head. "I hate you." He snaps like a child but regrets it when it leaves his mouth. "That's okay. I hate myself too." You whisper and wince in pain, hitting a small red button, and Max watches you relax when the medicine hits. 

"Promise me something?" You ask as beeps fill the room, Max becoming aware again of everything. "Anything." He whimpers, pulling you into him. "Love again." Kissing his hand that cups your cheek, Max shakes his head no.

"Yes. You'll find someone you love, and I want you to remember I sent them to you for a reason. Don't push them away, Max. Cherish them." You whisper, making Max sob all over again, and he gathers you in his arms like a child. 

"I love you." He whimpers, the beeping slowing as he just holds you, the only sound of the slow beeping, but soon, even that was gone. 

[sanguineterrain]

the teeth you know | dick grayson

Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.

Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!

happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.

the divider

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

Tonight, you dream. 

You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying. 

Except when he's in them.

The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that. 

You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.

You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams. 

You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry. 

"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew. 

He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.

"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."

"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."

Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you. 

"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food." 

Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl. 

"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."

"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."

"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."

Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.

"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound. 

"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity." 

"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”

"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."

He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes. 

You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible. 

(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.) 

"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."

You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything." 

"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."

"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."

"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly. 

"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."

“He treated you well.”

“When I fell in line,” he says.

You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away. 

"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."

You roll your eyes. 

"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."

"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."

"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."

"That's—"

You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light. 

And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor. 

"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."

You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs. 

It's something a queen would wear. 

"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."

"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."

"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."

"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."

Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream. 

"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."

"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man." 

"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says. 

You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"

Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"

"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."

He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”

Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.

But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know. 

And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate. 

"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.” 

But your legs part for him to kneel between. 

"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."

Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one. 

"This is cruel," you whine.

"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”

“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you. 

“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you. 

His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.

It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.

"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."

"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real. 

"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display. 

Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry. 

You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.

"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back. 

He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster. 

You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away. 

"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.

"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."

His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look. 

"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."

You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."

His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.

Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away. 

"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."

"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."

Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.

"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."

The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months. 

You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late. 

Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you. 

You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.

[ferrstappen]

maxplaining 2.0 l Max Verstappen blurb

note: hello! i was working on another piece and a TikTok popped up of mini Max and mini Charles, and it was so cute watching mini Max maxplaining already, and I just had this idea, hope you like it! Also, this is taken from the two previous dad!Max I've posted, so we're back with the twins!

Remember to please show it some love, feedback and reblog are always very very appreciated, and tomorrow I'll be working on some requests and the Taylor Swift collection <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader

warnings: none

summary: Luca Verstappen's first press conference during his karting career. turns out, he even speaks like his dad.

It was a small press conference, really.

Still, local reporters were covering and asking questions, also interested on the fact that Max Verstappen's son was following the very big footsteps of his father.

Mila was constantly asking why she was forced to come to her twin's press conference, she has to listen to him at home and school, wasn't that enough? A lot of personality for a ten year old girl, but was easily convinced by a pair Gucci ballet flats, ignoring the questioning glare from his wife, who reminded him that she has to learn that not everything comes with a recompense, and a ten year old does not need that many pairs of designer shoes.

He didn't care, though. Whatever Mila wanted, whatever she got. What was the reason of having all that money if he couldn't spoil his loved ones?

People sometimes forgot about the karting race in front of them, instead watching as Max's deep blue eyes studied every move made by Luca on the track. At the same time, he managed to squeeze your hand and waist whenever you gasp at the speed or turns, not being a fan of your son following the motorsport path.

Of course Luca won, he was every bit as talented as his father. Max smiled and hugged his son with pride, giving him his best smile, highlighting every good thing he did, lovingly asking him if he was okay and trying to reassure him.

That's what he would've wanted to hear from his dad, or at least that's what you thought before kneeling in front of Luca and giving him a short congratulatory hug, knowing he was at the age where every bit of affection ended with Luca muttering "Mum", trying to hide his embarrassment.

The three of you stood on the back, not wanting to get in the way of Luca's moment after winning. She'd deny it, but Mila gave her twin a thumbs up while making eye contact with him.

Of course the first question was for Luca, asking him about his race overall.

The young Verstappen boy took a deep breath before he started talking. And then he couldn't stop...

"This is my first win, we were very fast and my opponent made a mistake so I could pass him first and then stay in the first position so I could win. We still have more races but we are happy with the results and hope we can keep winning, but we have too keep working hard, I know I will work and try to better myself so that I can give my best..."

"Mama, he's talking too much. It's embarrassing," Mila whispered on your ear, earning a glare from you.

When he finished answering the question, he instantly started talking to the boy next to him, explaining something about the track and brakes, even gesticulating to make his point.

Of course, Max was oblivious to the fact that Luca was almost the same person as him, never really being aware of his own tendencies to explain things on his own words.

Back home, after putting Mila and Luca to sleep and heading to the bedroom where Max was already waiting for you, carefully hitting your side of the bed, signaling that it was time to go to bed.

So needy.

As soon as your body touched the mattress, Max rolled over and draped his arm over your waist, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. Meanwhile, you opened TikTok to slow down before going to sleep.

The first video was one of today, Luca animatedly talking and moving his hands. Then, it cut to one of a flushed Max doing the exact same thing.

"What are you laughing about?" Max lifted his head to check whatever was on your phone.

Lucaexplaining? Maxplaining 2.0? Versplaining? What's the best name?

"What are they talking about?" Max frowned while reading some comments.

Laughing at his cluelessness, you kissed the top of his head and put your phone down, noticing Max's breaths slowed down as you ran your hands through his hair.

You'd choose your talkative boys any day.

[rynwritesreid]

The Perfect Girl || Spencer Reid.

Summary: You are Spencers dream girl, everything is perfect about you. However, there is something you can’t tell Spencer as it will put his life in danger.

Content: Reader is basically on the run from some bad people. AFAB reader who goes by she/her. It’s kind of angst and full of fluff :) Use of Y/N.

Words: 1.5k

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You were Spencer’s dream girl; all his colleagues and friends knew you were the perfect girl for him. From the moment Spencer saw you, he knew you were the one. You were smart, you could argue your way out of anything and most importantly you always stood up for what you believed in, no matter the consequences you may face. Spencer could not get enough of you. You were a light in a world full of darkness for him.

 

So, when you just disappeared, he was left confused and alone. That wasn’t something you would do; it was totally out of character for him. You would have said goodbye, whether that in person, through a text or on a note. You wouldn’t have just left him like this.

Spencer searched for you everywhere. He looked in all the places he thought you might go, the places you mentioned you loved visiting growing up or places you took him, but you were nowhere to be found. As days turned into weeks, Spencer grew more and more frustrated. He missed your fiery spirit and the way you challenged him to be a better person.

 

He had asked Garcia for help; she could track anyone down. But you were smart. You had left all belongs that could be traced in your old apartment. You didn’t use any bank accounts; you face wasn’t found on any security cameras or systems. You were now just a ghost.

 

Spencer was at his wit's end. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again. He knew he had to do something, anything to find you. He spent every moment of his free time pouring over any information he could find about you. He was determined to find a lead, no matter how small.

 

He would get angry at himself, he worked for the FBI, part of his job was searching for people. So why couldn’t he find you? Then he would get angry at you, why did you leave without saying anything, were you in trouble or did you just get bored? Spencer wanted to give up, you obviously didn’t want to be found, so why should he keep searching.

 

But despite his frustration and anger, Spencer couldn't help but worry about you. He knew that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but he couldn't shake the feeling that you were in trouble. He spent countless nights lying awake, trying to think of any leads or clues that could lead him to you.

 

He knew that there was only one person he knew that could truly help him in this situation. She had disappeared before, and she was able to keep part of her history a secret. Emily Prentiss. She was the only one who could possibly understand why someone would do this, and where they would go to hide.

 

Spencer picked up the phone and dialled Emily's number. It rang a few times before she picked up.

 

"Reid, it's good to hear from you. What's going on?" Emily's voice was warm and comforting.

 

"It's about Y/N. She's disappeared and I can't find her. I've tried everything. I don't know what to do." Spencer's voice was strained, and he could feel himself starting to panic.

 

"Okay, Reid. Take a deep breath. Let's go over everything you've done so far." Emily's calm voice helped steady Spencer. They spent the next few hours going over all of Spencer's attempts to find you.

 

"Okay, I have an idea," Emily finally said. "There's a group of people I used to know. They're kind of like a... rogue organization. They know how to disappear without a trace. If anyone would know where Y/N is, it would be them."

 

Spencer leaned forward; his interest piqued. "What kind of organization?" he asked.

Emily hesitated for a moment before answering. "They're a group of people who specialize in helping individuals disappear. It's not technically legal, but they only help people who are in danger or need to start fresh for whatever reason."

 

Spencer nodded, understanding. "Do you think they'll help me find Y/N?"

 

Emily shrugged. "It's worth a shot. I can make some calls and see if any of my old contacts are still active. But Spencer, you have to understand that this could be dangerous. These people don't mess around."

 

Spencer didn't care. He was willing to do whatever it took to find you. "I'll do whatever it takes," he said firmly.

 

You were safe, you weren’t happy, but you were safe. It took all of your will power to disappear and not tell Spencer anything. You loved him, but this needed to happen.

 

You were now living under a new identity, in a small but quaint town. You had a new job and a new home, but you always had the feeling of someone watching you. You knew your past was eventually going to catch up with you, it was something you had constant nightmares about.

 

One day, you received a phone call from an unknown number. You answered hesitantly, and a voice on the other end spoke.

 

"Is this Y/N?" the voice asked.

 

You froze. How did someone find you? "Who is this?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

 

"My name is Emily Prentiss. I used to work with Spencer at the FBI."

 

You felt your heart racing. Did Spencer send her to find you? "What do you want?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

 

"I know you disappeared for a reason, and I'm not here to judge you for that. Spencer asked for my help in finding you.”

 

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you. You wanted to see Spencer so badly, but you knew that it was dangerous for both of you. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to be found," you said firmly.

 

"Y/N, I know you're scared. But Spencer is so worried about you. He misses you so much, and he just wants to know that you're safe," Emily said gently.

 

Tears welled up in your eyes. You missed Spencer too, but you weren't sure if you were ready to face him just yet. "I need some time to think," you said finally. "Can I call you back?"

 

"Of course. Take all the time you need. But please, consider talking to Spencer," Emily said before hanging up the phone.

You spent the next few days agonizing over what to do. You missed Spencer more than anything, but you were still afraid. Finally, you decided.

You would meet with Spencer, but only once. You knew that seeing him again would only make it harder to stay hidden. But you couldn't bear the thought of him thinking that you didn't care about him at all.

 

You called Emily and told her that you were willing to meet with Spencer, but only under certain conditions. Emily agreed and made the necessary arrangements.

 

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were nervous. You dressed in a plain outfit, nothing that would make you stand out. You arrived at the meeting place and saw Spencer waiting for you.

 

He looked relieved and overjoyed to see you, and it took everything in you not to run into his arms. You sat down across from him, keeping your face hidden as much as possible.

 

"Y/N," he said softly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Spencer looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

 

“I’m okay, but I am going to have disappear again after this. Spencer, I love you, and I did this for us. I was putting your life in danger and your career in jeopardy. When I was teenager, I got mixed up things, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are people out there who are trying to find me and well kill me.” You paused; you couldn’t let Spencer know everything.

 

Spencer looked at you, his face full of love and concern. "Y/N, I understand that you were trying to protect me, but I can't bear the thought of losing you again. Please, let me help you. We can figure this out together."

 

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "Spencer, I can't let you do that. You have a life here, a job, a future. I can't let my problems drag you down with me."

 

Spencer reached across the table and took your hand. "Y/N, I love you. I don't care about any of that. All I care about is being with you and keeping you safe. Please, let me help you.”

 

“Spencer, if I do let you help me. You’ve got to promise that you won’t die or put yourself in harm’s way. Because if you do, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”

 

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of determination. "I promise, Y/N. I will do everything in my power to keep us both safe. We can do this together."

 

You looked into his eyes, and you knew that he meant every word. Slowly, you nodded. "Okay, Spencer. I'll let you help me."

 

Spencer smiled; relief evident on his face. "Thank you, Y/N. We'll figure this out together."

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[lovelyhan]

— hoax ⟢

pairing: joshua x reader

summary: you’re a hostess that’s drowning in debt, and jisoo is a man with too many secrets to keep. making a clean break for it isn’t as easy as you’d hoped.

word count: 18.6k words

tags: mafia!shua, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

warnings: shua smokes cigarettes & has tatts...i think that should be a warning LOL, mentions of shady mafia business but nothing detailed, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: psa that this is a fic i originally wrote for another fandom, but decided to repurpose for svt! in case you find the narration familiar, it's posted on ao3 as a genshin fic, i just did some tweaks to the story to make it fit shua better hehe ++ i loved writing this so much, but it didn't get as much love as i expected back so i've decided to share this w caratblr as well :')

smut tags: dub con in one of the earlier scenes, protected & unprotected sex, shua & reader are both whipped as fuck

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @spk93

joshua taglist: @renjunphile - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pretty-trustme

“Rei, time’s up!”

Your current patron groans with contempt at the manager’s announcement. He was a salaryman that’s probably in his thirties, and has been visiting the bar for about two weeks now. It didn’t take long for him to become one of your regular guests. 

“Rei, you’ll be here tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Of course.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you untangle the arm that circles your waist. “I promise we’ll continue where we left off when you get back~”

This is how you normally appeared to your customers – the bubbliest escort in the entire red light district. It’s easy to lull men into a false sense of connection when you act so sweet and lovely; when you smile like the sun is in your eyes even in the middle of the night. In just six months of working in this place, the manager has considerably taken a liking to you, and you intend to keep up that track record just a few weeks more.

Then, you’d be free.

But no matter how much you doll yourself up for the evening; no matter how much money is signed on your paycheck, you can’t help but feel that something’s amiss. 

It’s a lingering thought that tickles the back of your head every now and again. Your fellow hostesses once told you that feeling the way you do was all part of the job. So once you start feeling uncomfortable in your own skin – under the gazes of your own lecherous patrons – you pour yourself a drink and throw your head back with a ditzy smile. Despite that steadily growing void in her heart, their beloved Rei will continue to grin and bear it. 

“They’re here again.”

You flash the manager a puzzled look once you make it back to the counter. “Who are we talking about?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, gesturing vaguely somewhere behind you. You manage to follow her line of sight discreetly, but when you see a pair of men in rugged suits seated near the entrance, your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach.

“I know you said you’ll deal with them, but they’re starting to unnerve the other girls,” the manager explains quietly. “Is it okay if you take care of this ASAP? I don’t want the bar to get mixed up in something bad.”

Dread sinks its claws into your skin as you mull over a response. The manager has been considerably patient with your dealings involving those loan sharks. But part of you knows that she’s only being this lenient because you were good at your job. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll go talk to them now,” you mumble.

Each stride you took feels like a step closer to your own grave. It’s always these same, two men keeping tabs on you – both with full sleeves of tattoos and a missing finger or two. It would make sense that the other girls didn’t like them lingering around the property. After all, your first instinct is always to steer clear every time you see them. 

“How can I help you?” you ask sweetly the moment you arrive at their table.

The first one glares at you through his tinted sunglasses, taking a drag of his cigarette none-too-discreetly. “Cut the crap. You know what we’re here for.”

He says your real name in a way that sounds like two sheets of styrofoam gnashing in your ears. You look around warily, hoping no one heard him.

“I go by Rei in my workplace, so I’d appreciate it if you addressed me as such,” you speak sternly, refusing to take a seat in their company. “What do you want this time? Didn’t we agree that I’ll be paying for the last installment this month?”

The second man snorts before bringing out an envelope from the lapel of his coat. “You sure about that? You got some nerve actin’ all feisty with the people kind enough to loan ya some cash.” 

You accept the envelope with trembling hands – brows cinched as you take out the document inside. But the longer you take to scan its contents, the wider your eyes become. 

It’s an approval notice for a loan of five million won, signed under your father’s name.

“W-What is this?” you stammer. “We didn’t submit any more loan requests.”

The first man shrugs – wholly unconcerned with your plight. And as he kills his cigarette on a crystalline ashtray, you feel your entire world crumbling before your eyes.

“Your old man specifically told us,” he began, words sounding more and more like a threat with each syllable. “That you’d take care of it all.”

You don’t know how you end up running barefoot in the streets after that. Your heels have long been ditched in an alley when you realized you can’t exactly get that far in them. And now, you’re mindlessly shouldering your way through the late night crowd – tuning out the people yelling your name in harsh voices. Those men came prepared; they even stationed a couple of their goons around the area. You can only evade them now because the streets were so packed, but you know better than push your luck.

Goddammit, you think to yourself – cringing a little when you step on a wet patch of something underfoot. I was almost free…

“Don’t let that bitch get away!”

Your body seizes up when you hear the loan shark’s voice closer than you anticipated. Fuck. They have you surrounded. 

In the midst of your momentary distraction though, you fail to see another person who’s also on the run. The same as you. While you did excellently in evading all the other passers-by, you ended up crashing into him in the middle of the busy street anyways – the impact making you stumble to the ground.

“Shit, sorry!” 

You look up with misty eyes – staring at the perpetrator with the intent to glare at him, but his doe-like gaze takes you by surprise. He’s adorned with a neatly-pressed suit, dark hair slicked back to perfection as he holds out a hand for you to take; the one not gripping a heavy-looking suitcase.

“I’m okay…” you mumble, getting back to your feet without accepting his help. “If anything, I should be the one who’s –”

“There she is!”

The two of you bristle at the loan shark’s voice, and you’re rooted to the spot – frozen with fear. You don’t notice the way the stranger you just ran into flickers his gaze between your trembling form and the lackeys coming from every direction. And you’re ignorant of how he manages to put two and two together before seizing your wrist.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, tugging you along before you can protest. 

You know you should be skeptical of him. The district you work in is the perfect environment for scheming assholes like the men who are after you to use as a stronghold. For all you know, this person is the same breed. But there’s something in his firm yet gentle grip that tells you he means no harm. Even as he makes you run faster, farther, you feel none of the dread that slowly crept on you the moment those loan sharks cornered you at the bar.

Your lungs are burning by the time you make it out of the busy streets – nothing but the chirp of cicadas ringing in your ears. Mystery man makes you sit on a bench just outside a small temple, and you’re not exactly in the position to refuse. 

“Ow…” You wince, glancing down only to see that your toes have cuts all over; blood and grime mixing with the wounds.

“Hmm. Wonder what a pretty thing like you got herself into,” the man sighs, raking a gloved hand through his messy black hair. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t respond. You barely have the energy. The silence only deepens as you train your eyes on the ground. Your throat was parched from all that running, and you belatedly realize that you still haven’t eaten.

What’s worse is that the cuts on your feet sting like a bitch. Mystery man heaves a deep sigh, and you clearly hear the sound of leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walks away. You try not to feel disappointed.

You didn’t expect him to stay and comfort you or anything like that. He was kind enough to go out of his way and take you somewhere those goons won’t be able to catch up. It would be stupid to ask for more. But still, you feel that hole in your heart rupture itself even wider – leaving you so hollow that you can’t even hope to fill the void anymore. 

Your makeup is running. Your pedicure is a mess. These are some of the things that you always cared to pay attention to before timing in for work. But now, with nowhere else to go, none of them seem to matter anymore. Even if you spent a significant amount of time getting ready for tonight, you can’t be assed to give a damn.

This is so fucking pathetic.

You don’t want to live like this – working at a goddamn cabaret club just to pay off the debts your father always keeps racking up. All he ever does these days is drink himself dead before dragging his ass to the nearest pachinko machine. You hate it. You hate him. What did you ever do to deserve all the shit that’s being thrown your way? 

Why do you have to deal with all of it alone?

“Here.”

You startle at the sound of your savior’s voice – surprised to see him as he tosses something on the ground in front of you. He came back? But what did he…

Are those sandals?

“I picked out a pair that matches your outfit best. Women are always particular about that kind of stuff, right?” he says nonchalantly, kneeling to the ground as he brings out a pack of wipes from a plastic bag. At that moment, you realize that he’s changed out of his stuffy gray suit in exchange for a pair of jeans and a ratty t-shirt.

Even his hair seems different now, like he'd washed out the wax keeping it in place. Now, it looks just a bit damp as the tips curl at the edges. How he managed to do all that so quickly, you have no clue.

“Hold still. I’m going to clean you up.”

You wince a little when the cool, wet tissue comes into contact with your skin. He doesn’t speak as he wipes off the blood and dirt from your feet, and you’re more mortified than grateful for his kind but uncalled for gesture. Is he trying to get you indebted to him? Are you going to have to pay this back, too?

A few moments later, you spot a general store a few blocks away and the pieces start to fit in your head. That must’ve been where he bought all this stuff. You look around as he continues cleaning you up, and notice that his suitcase is nowhere to be found either. Instead, he has a black knapsack hoisted across one shoulder – a red baseball cap hanging from one of the straps.

How did he manage to buy all this and get changed so quickly? Or were you just sulking about your stupid predicament for that long? 

“There we go,” he says, tossing the soiled tissues into a nearby trash can before covering your wounds with…cute band-aids? “I’m not really one to stick my nose into other people’s business, but my mom would never let me hear the end of it if she found out I left a poor woman for dead.”

Mom? “Okay, but you didn’t have to do all of…this.”  

Mystery man glances up at you with a lopsided smile – the light of the street lamps somehow accentuating the color of his eyes. He looks so much younger like this; dressed down like a college student in his first semester. Once he’s put all the bandages in place, he even goes the extra mile and slides the newly bought sandals on your now-clean feet.

“You’re right, pretty girl. I don’t have to.” He beams. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart skips a beat. Everything about him is still rightfully suspicious, but you find yourself oddly happy with the care he’s given. This is the first time someone’s been so nice to you in a long while.

“Now that you’re good to go, I best be on my way.”

All of a sudden, that fleeting bliss dissipates in a puff of smoke. “...Wait, what? W-Where are you going?”

The man rises back to his feet, and it occurs to you just how tall he is. You swallow the lump in your throat, instinctively backing away from him on the bench. He’s still wearing that endearing look he showed you earlier, but when he speaks again, his voice holds none of his initial warmth.

“Somewhere that has nothing to do with you.”

The words lance through your heart the moment they leave his lips, and you ask yourself, why do you feel so…sad about parting ways with a complete stranger? You don’t even know his name. It shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

You don’t say anything as he takes his baseball cap and eases it atop his messy hair. You don’t utter a word when he starts walking away for real. But the moment you recall the fate that awaits you back at the red light district, the ridiculous debt your father had foolishly signed, and the pathetic life you’ve been wanting to escape from for so long…

Your new sandals crunch against the fallen leaves as you run after him. Your heart nearly leaps into your throat from the adrenaline, and before he can go any farther, you catch the mystery man by the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t even flinch. As if he expected you to follow him right from the start. That makes you wonder if he thinks you’re being a nuisance, but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Take me with you. Please.”

He stares along with an unreadable look – his doe eyes shining in the dark as he watches you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you come with me, you’ll never be able to go back,” he tells you up front. “You okay with that?”

In hindsight, maybe running away with a complete stranger isn’t far up in the best decisions you’ve made in life – god knows you’ve only made a few of those. Just because he showed you an ounce of kindness, doesn’t mean he’s a good person. 

Still, the answer comes to you quite easily.

“Yeah,” you say, more confident than you’ve ever been. “Anywhere is better than a dump like this…”

He considers your answer for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “This town must’ve fucked you up pretty badly, huh? Poor thing.” Mystery man holds out his hand again, and you’re a bit too glad that he’s speaking to you nicely again. “The name’s Joshua.”

“Joshua…?”

Well, that was obviously an alias. You consider telling him the one you go by at the bar as well, but when your eyes rivet to the floral sandals he bought for you on a whim, you immediately assume that you should tell him the truth. Even if he was doing the exact opposite.

You give him your real name with little hesitation, face warming at the intensity of his gaze. But at that moment, you don’t really care what happens anymore. All you want is to escape reality without looking back.

If you have to cling to a complete stranger to achieve that, then so be it.

...

“You were just about to ditch me, weren’t you?” 

Joshua jolts like a cat dumped with ice-cold water – hand shying away from the doorknob of your hotel room with a sheepish look. “Me? Ditching you? You’re dreaming, princess!”

You let out an irritated noise, but your shoulders relax once you catch him plopping his bag on the mattress either way. He’s the one who told you that you can’t go back once you tagged along. You wanted to say that you’re going to make it his responsibility to take care of you, but your mother brought you up better than that.

Still…this all feels a bit surreal.

All your life, you’ve lived in the small town of Andong. You could never afford to make the trip to Seoul even if you wanted – given that a majority of your salary is dedicated to paying off those shitty loans. Yet now, you’re checked in one of the most beautiful hotels you’ve ever seen, courtesy of your stranger-than-life companion. 

Now that you’re in a clearer state of mind, you start to consider the possibility of Joshua being a foreigner; if his name wasn't already a dead giveaway in and of itself.

Another thing you’re left thinking about is how well-off he really is. Not everyone can just book a fancy room at a fancy hotel. But when the two of you showed up at the front desk earlier tonight, he was surprisingly received with warm hospitality. Although, you suppose that all guests are treated the same way in high-end hotels. Not that you would know.

“Well, since we’re stuck together anyways, I’ll be showering first,” he grumbles, tossing his cap on the nightstand as he musses his own hair. “Ahh, I can’t wait to crash into bed.”

“Wait a minute. I thought we agreed I was going to shower first –”

Joshua shuts the door to the en-suite, clicking the lock before you can even finish.

That jerk…!

You angrily sprawl yourself across the mattress as a petty means of getting back at him. Let’s see if he can crash into bed comfortably now! But the abrupt movement makes the bag that Joshua left rustle in place. You shift around until you’re seated on the bed, taking a quick peek at the opened zipper. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise you to see thick wads of cash inside. You knew that you were right on the money to think there’s more to him than meets the eye.

The more rational part of you insists that you get out of here while you still can. That man is probably more dangerous than you think, and even if he’s acting all cheeky with you now, there’s no telling when he’ll decide to cut you off. You remember how quickly Joshua's mirthful countenance morphed into something…scarier when you asked where he was going earlier. Long story short, you do not want to mess with that.

“Hey, princess. It’s your turn.”

You scramble on the bed at the sound of his voice as you compose yourself in a way that doesn’t suggest that you’ve been going through his stuff. Joshua emerges from the bathroom with steam billowing from the doorway – a fluffy towel hanging low on his hips. But now that he was liberated from the confines of his clothes, you realize that his body was actually inked.

Twin koi fish curled around both of his pecs – accentuating the contours of his chest better than you’d expect. And when he turns around, there’s a massive caricature of a dragon splayed across his muscular back. You don’t know whether he’s oblivious of your observant stare or he’s just letting you enjoy the show. But either way, Joshua grants you an eyeful of his tattoos for a good amount of time. 

He walks over to the table near the windows – grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter you didn’t know he was carrying around. Joshua takes a stick between his teeth, and you can’t peel your eyes away from the way he takes a drag after he lights it. But when his deep brown gaze finally flickers to yours, you’re not quick enough to disengage.

“So how long are you going to stare at me for?” He asks, amused. 

Eye twitching with annoyance, you grab one of the pillows on the bed before throwing it right at his face. Joshua manages to catch it before that happens though, much to your dismay.

“None of your business!”

It’s only when you get under the spill of a hot shower that the gravity of your situation finally hits you. You absentmindedly scrub away the grime off your body as you think that you might’ve followed someone you shouldn’t have. Now that your prior amazement from seeing his tattoos had come and went, you realize that he didn’t have them inked on a whim. They were a symbol of status and power. 

Working as a hostess means that you get to know a lot more shady guys than you’d otherwise meet under normal circumstances. But apart from those nasty debt collectors, you’ve done a great job at avoiding a lot of them. But now, you willingly waltzed into the den of someone that’s probably ten times worse. 

Great.

You put on a bathrobe before heading out of the en-suite, peaking your head out of the door to make sure Joshua isn’t doing anything weird. But all you see is a tall man dozing softly on the bed – his still-wet hair dampening the pillows slightly. You sigh before padding back inside the room. Didn’t he ever learn that sleeping with damp hair is going to make him catch a cold in the morning?

For some reason, you end up grabbing a small, dry towel he left on the table – intent on patting down some of the moisture. Joshua lays still on his side, undisturbed in his slumber. You make sure you’re careful with how you dab the towel across his head; not really wanting him to wake up in the middle of it. But now that you’re close enough to study his face, you can feel yourself growing embarrassed. Joshua's thick lashes lay softly across the skin beneath his eyes, and when you look closer, you can almost see the tiny spots that dot his cheekbones. 

You don’t like to admit, but he’s actually pretty…handsome.

A while later, you come to terms that you won’t be able to pat down his hair thoroughly if he’s asleep. That’s when you decide to towel dry your own hair for ten or-so minutes before climbing into bed with him.

The sheets feel smooth against your skin, but that does little to keep your mind off the fact that a gangster (at least, you assumed he was a gangster) is sleeping right next to you. You tell yourself not to sneak any glances, but you end up doing just that anyway – admiring each detail of his tattoos without really meaning to. 

Is this really okay? Should I really let my guard down around someone like him?

All these thoughts drift in and out of your head, but in the end, you succumb to the day’s fatigue. Joshua bought dinner for the both of you once you got off the train on the way here, so your hunger was already abated. But you figure that a good night’s sleep is what your body needs to completely recuperate.

…But if he’s kind enough to patch up your wounds and buy you dinner, then gangster or not, maybe he isn’t such a bad person.

Joshua, however, makes you regret even thinking that literally the next second later.

The moment you’ve found a comfortable spot on the bed, the man beside you suddenly pounces – caging you in his strong arms before you can even draw a breath. His lips twitch into a lazy smile that borders on devilish, and you immediately figure out that you’re fucked.

“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” he laughs, tracing the swell of your lower lip with his finger. “Drying my hair ‘cause you’re worried about me? Princess, I’d be more careful if I were you. After all…”

When Joshua leans closer, you feel his breath fan against your ear – making you hate the way your body shudders from the feel of it. 

“I’m not a good man.”

You should push him away – you know you should. But from the hypnotizing strokes of his tattoos to the endless honey brown of his eyes, you find Joshua whittling down your defenses alarmingly fast. When his mouth descends onto yours, you welcome him despite your voice of reason screaming for you to stop – to get away while you still can.

But that’s the thing, you can’t get away. Not when you willingly followed him in the first place.

His body is impossibly warm against yours, and you can’t help but respond to his touch whenever his dexterous fingers graze your skin. But as you let him deepen his tongue-filled kiss, you suddenly recall why you’re even here. 

Persistent loan sharks. A never-ending debt. 

And you have the gall to be doing all this? 

“Joshua,” you plead, mustering the strength to push against his chest. “Please, stop.” 

He doesn’t listen. Instead, Joshua nudges the folds of your bathrobe apart, exposing your chest to the cold air of your hotel room. A large hand moves to grope your breast, languidly massaging the supple flesh. But the sensation of his heated palm on your cold skin is enough to snap you back to your senses, and finally, you manage to retaliate.

“I told you to stop!” you shout, folding your knee high enough to kick him in the chest. Joshua obviously doesn’t expect this, and grunts in pain as he stumbles backwards on the mattress. He stares at you with a puzzled look, as if he didn’t try to take advantage of you only a few seconds prior.

“I didn’t come with you to be your fuckdoll, asshole,” you growled, tears stinging your eyes despite the anger in your voice. “Just because I’m a hostess, doesn’t mean I’m easy. Who the hell do you think you are?”

You expect him to lose his temper – to ‘remind you of your place’. Because that’s how gangsters usually operate. Going for the things they want without considering the repercussions on the other people involved. When he reaches out to you, you brace yourself for the oncoming impact. But instead of a hard slap to the face, Joshua caresses the side of your cheek almost apologetically. You startle at his touch – flashing him a perturbed look.

“Sorry, my mom’s always told me that I can be a bit too into the things I do,” he chuckles, thumb grazing the high of your cheekbone. “And that I can be a bit selfish and presumptive. When I did all those nice things for you today, I expected you’ll return the favor by whatever means~”

You don’t even have the time to think about how this man just brought up his mother in a serious conversation. Instead, you scowl at Joshua like he’s just lost his mind. “Doesn’t that just make you a scumbag?”

“When did I ever say I wasn’t?” He laughs. “Didn’t you find it the least bit suspicious that I was being kind to you without asking for anything in return? I’ll have you know that everyone has ulterior motives these days, princess.”

“I did,” you snap. “And I’m glad I didn’t trust you right off the bat.”

“Oh? But you trust me enough to share this room with me?”

You open your mouth, close it, open it again, but alas, no wise retort comes out. He’s right. You knew that Joshua was suspicious from the start, but you still threw everything to the wind and ran away with him. It’s not like you can go back now that everything has gone to shit, though. And you can’t say with confidence that you can find a place for yourself here in the city with no connections nor cash either.

All you have is Joshua, as much as it pains you to admit.

“Come here.”

Joshua eases himself back to his side of the bed and holds out his arms – as if inviting you into his space. You respond with a bizarre look that makes him snort. “You think I’ll come anywhere near you after that stunt you pulled?”

“Hey, you don’t want to have sex. That’s cool. I’m not so much of a scumbag that I’ll force you to do it,” he tells you nonchalantly. “But can we at least cuddle? It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt the warmth of a woman.”

“...You’re really, really strange. You know that?” 

“Mhmm. So I've been told.”

Gods, you’re tired. Downright exhausted. You just want to knock yourself out and forget about the misfortune of having landed someone like Joshua as a companion. You appreciate that he isn’t the type to coerce women into sex, but…ugh! This guy’s impossible to figure out.

…Still, you inch closer to his welcoming touch, biting down a sharp retort when you hear him chuckling softly at your surrender. Joshua wraps his strong arms around your frame, and you close your eyes – catching a whiff of a salty breeze in the air. You wonder if the scent is coming from the sheets or his wild, wild hair.

“This isn’t so bad, now is it?” he teases. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Aww, you’re making an awful lot of demands to the person who saved you! I think I liked you better when you were bashful and on the brink of tears, princess.” 

You scoff. “So not only are you a scumbag, but you’re also a sadist.”

“Mmm, I don’t have any objections about that, really.”

God, just what have you gotten yourself into?

...

If you thought your first night as Joshua’s unwitting travel companion was a big hassle, you’re certainly in for the ride for the next few days.

He’s always out during the daytime – feeding you excuses like he has to meet up with a couple of friends before leaving you alone and bored in the hotel room. It’s a good thing that the cable service here covered your favorite noontime soap operas, so you could kill time for at least a few hours. Joshua always returns before dinner, and orders room service while engaging you in small talk. He doesn’t tell you about his daytime escapades, nor do you ask.

But when the daily cycle repeats itself for the third time, you decide to put your foot down.

“Are you trying to get me to die of boredom or something?” you ask him once the bellboy takes away your food trays for the night. “I know you’re doing some super shady stuff somewhere out there, but would it kill you to show me around? First time I’ve ever been to Seoul and I’m confined in a hotel room.”

Joshua stares at you dubiously. “Princess, you’re not some inmate I’m keeping locked up in a cell. I never said you weren’t allowed to go sightseeing or whatever.”

You pause. Right, he never did say that explicitly… But you can’t really tell him you were too afraid to go out wandering on your own. 

“Have you been behaving like I kidnapped you or something?” Joshua snorts, walking over to the windows to light a cigarette. Your face scrunches up at that. The room’s going to reek of tobacco smoke now. “How about this: let’s walk around the shopping district tomorrow morning. Besides, the spare clothes provided by the hotel are just going to rack up on the checkout bill. Might as well get you some better outfits instead.”

Looking down at your current attire, you can’t help but think he’s right. You couldn’t exactly bring any of your clothes with you on this very impromptu trip, and you refused when Joshua offered to lend you a bunch of his own. For some reason, a whole duffel bag full of men’s clothes arrived a day after you checked in, and when you asked Joshua about it, he simply said that he prides his men for always delivering the necessities for a trip. 

His men. Meaning, this asshole is definitely a big shot kingpin of some sketchy organization and he’s just keeping his mouth shut about it. It’s a good thing that the staff offered to give you some hotel-issued clothes for a certain price, though. Like hell you’re going to prance around in a mafia boss’ clothes.

But…did you hear him right? Did Joshua just offer to take you shopping?

“Don’t you dare think you can buy my trust with material things,” you warn him, bringing your knees closer to your chest on the bed. “I’m still on to you.”

“So scary,” your companion chuckles, tilting his chin up before puffing out a cloud of smoke. He looks like he’s just about to follow that up with another jab to get on your nerves, but something seems to catch his gaze. 

Then, you realize that Joshua is staring at your feet.

Before you can blurt out some offhand remark about a foot fetish, though, he asks, “You won’t be needing band-aids anymore, right? I can always run to the drugstore and get you some.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to do that. My feet are fine,” you insist before following it up with a softer, “But I might need a new pedicure, though…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. What time are we going out again?”

The next morning, Joshua jostles you out of bed at seven A.M. sharp – much to your utter dismay. Judging by how never stays out too late despite his questionable business ventures in the city, it probably makes sense for him to be a morning person. He tells you that the shopping district doesn’t even open until nine, but the bastard insists that the early morning sun is good for your skin!  

As he shows you around the main avenue, though, your initial unwillingness to go out so early in the goddamn morning slowly ebbs – having been replaced with pure, unadulterated awe because wow. The big city really is a sight to see. It’s so different from your hometown that you kind of regret not visiting sooner.

Thankfully, there are some places just outside the shopping district that open much earlier. Joshua escorts you to a nearby restaurant – insisting that you can order to your heart’s content. You receive the offer with equal parts bewilderment and concern, but cooping yourself up in that damn hotel room gives you little time to think about courtesy. If he’s willing to pay for your expenses, who are you to refuse?

Breakfast goes the same way all the other meals you shared with Joshua have gone so far. You try to probe his reasons for visiting Seoul as subtle as you can, but he always skirts around the topic with a face as smooth as butter. It’s obvious that he isn’t going to start talking about whatever undercover mission he’s on, so instead, you ask about his family.

“My family?” he repeats.

You nod. “Yeah. You brought up your mom like...twice already. Kinda made me wonder if a lunatic like you is actually a family man.”

“Hey! While you’re not wrong about me being a lunatic, I’ve yet to show you that side of me. That’s a pretty mean assumption.” Joshua pouts, scooping a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

You’re not even going to ask him to elaborate. 

“Hmm… But I guess you could say I’m a family man,” he hums right after swallowing his food. “I’m an only child, but I've always wanted a family of my own, you know? Old suburban home, white picket fence, six kids, and a dog –” 

“Six?” you echo. “Were you that lonely growing up?”

Joshua snorts. “Where I'm from, it's completely normal to have a ton of kids.”

“Where are you from anyway?”

“The U.S. Los Angeles, specifically.”

Los Angeles… Well, at least he's honest about that. His answer also proves your hunch about him being a foreigner.

“What are you doing so far away from home then?” you ask. “Won’t your parents miss you or something? Don’t you miss them?”

An emotion you can’t quite identify passes over Joshua's face – something grim and untouchable. You’re about to insist that he doesn’t need to answer or anything, but the look disappears faster than it surfaced and he’s back to flashing you a shit-eating grin like usual.

“Hmm, why are you talking about family when we’re out on a date?” he sulks. “You’re so unromantic. How about you teach me how to use chopsticks instead?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “You…don’t know how to use chopsticks? But your Korean is so fluent.”

He rolls his eyes. “Hasty generalization. Just because I can speak the language, doesn't mean I'm good at the other cultural customs, you know.”

Just like that, Joshua expertly makes you forget about all that talk about his family. He distracts you well enough until you finally arrive at the shopping district, and the first thing he does is drag you to a beauty salon.

“Uh, I thought we were buying clothes,” you tell him dryly.

He hums, already signing the clipboard that the lady behind the reception counter hands to him. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get a pedicure first?”

“...I was joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” He grins before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come get you in half an hour. That sound good?”

You can’t even let yourself feel the heat rushing to your face because Joshua is already sliding a black credit card onto the counter – the limitless variant that you can only dream of getting for yourself. What on earth is he doing with that bag of cash back in the hotel room when he had one of those the whole time?

“That’s a gorgeous boyfriend you have, miss.” Your beautician sighs as she massages your feet with moisturizer. “I wonder when I’ll get lucky to land a guy that hot.”

You’re compelled to tell her, no. That potential criminal mastermind is most certainly not your boyfriend. But the way this woman’s gentle hands press down on your toes reminds you of the night you met Joshua. How he went out of his way to clean the dirt off your feet without uttering a single word in complaint. How his eyes appeared so disarmingly brown that you can’t forget their color even if you wanted to. 

And not to mention that innocent kiss he gave you before making his leave earlier…

Nope. Get it together, you chide yourself. That is the same douchebag that tried to have sex with you the other night. And are you forgetting the fact that he’s hinted at his own criminal activity several times now?!

But in spite of yourself, you respond to your beautician’s words with a gentle smile. 

“I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

…

“Joshua, this is way too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, thank you for spoiling me rotten, but what the fuck? Who buys a hundred thousand won's worth of clothes for a woman he barely knows?”  

“Does it matter? Not to brag, but I’ve got lots of cash to burn, princess.”

“...That’s – That’s not the point!”

It’s not even lunch time but you’re already arguing with Joshua over his irresponsible expenses. Like, sure, this all totally works in your favor, but you still have a shred of decency at least! He’s already bought you three expensive dresses, a nice pair of designer jeans, and some chic-looking heels. He got you the last one from the store the moment Joshua noticed your stare lingering too long on the display window. 

You used to joke around with your old college friends about getting a sugar daddy in the past but… Is this really the right way to go about it? Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal?!

“Don’t you like them?” he asks, lower lip swelling into a pout. “We can always pick out something else. Oh, I forgot to make you choose a swimsuit.”

“...What do I need a swimsuit for?”

He spares you another conniving smile, taking something out from inside his jacket before showing it to you.

“Are those…” You gape at him. “Plane tickets?”

Joshua nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yep. We’re going on vacation to Jeju Island. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

No, it doesn’t! Not in the slightest!! Okay, maybe you’re a bit curious to see what Jeju's famous coastlines have to offer, but… That doesn’t explain why Joshua is so willing to spend unspeakable amounts of money at the drop of a hat. You wonder what’s so damn special about you for him to keep spoiling you like this, but then again, maybe he’s never been frugal to begin with. Unlike yourself – who’s always had to work for every penny just to make ends meet.

The realization dawns on you like a sucker punch to the gut. Sure he’s kind enough (more like, crazy enough) to let you tag along with him, but the fact that the two of you live in completely different worlds only starts to sink in at that moment. 

Right now, Joshua is donned with a maroon shirt with the buttons done only up to the middle – giving you a glimpse of those tattoos you’ve never grown tired of looking at. He matched it with a black leather jacket and a nice pair of trousers, looking like a million dollars in every single way. Even if you managed to change into a more stylish fit compared to your hotel clothes, you still feel grossly inferior – not that the two of you were on equal footing in the first place.

This isn’t all that different from that sinking sensation you always felt in the bar – a feeling like you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. Somewhere you don’t belong. 

Joshua is a goddamn big shot, and you? You’re just a parasite. You don’t deserve all of this finery. You don’t even deserve his company at all.

If he notices how you’ve gone noticeably silent as he leads you to an athletics store, Joshua doesn’t bring it up. He merely holds up all the bags of unnecessary purchases in one hand, and your own hand in the other. You don’t fault the lady at the salon for thinking this guy was your boyfriend. To an outsider, the two of you must’ve looked like a couple in their mid-twenties.

But even if he practically jumped you last time, you know better than to expect more than what he’s already giving you. Besides, you didn’t run away with Joshua just to get together with him… 

Right?

“Does this look okay?”

You come out of the dressing room to show Joshua the swimsuit he picked out for you. He glances up from his phone, and you try not to let the mesmerized look on his face get to your head. 

“You’re looking real sexy right now, princess,” he admits – pocketing his phone as he walks to the front of your stall. “I knew it. Blue really suits you.”

“Quit saying weird things,” you mumble, shyly draping your arms over your chest. “Do you want me to get it or not?”

“More importantly, do you want to get it?”

“H-Huh?”

All of a sudden, Joshua pushes you back inside the stall – locking the door behind him before you can utter a protest. There’s a serious look on his face that you don’t get to see a lot, but you don’t get to ponder on it much. He’s quick to place both of his large hands on your shoulders, making you face the full-body mirror inside without any delay.

“Do you not like receiving gifts, gorgeous?” he whispers, and you hate how your skin prickles at the new pet name. “You’ve been so against everything I bought for you all day, even though you’re the one who picked them out yourself.”

“Joshua –”

One of his hands starts to descend, brushing across your arm and onto the curve of your waist. His other hand teases the straps of your bikini top, sending involuntary shivers running down your spine. To make things worse, your breath hitches as you meet Joshua’s gaze in the mirror – piercing doe eyes holding you hostage with a single glance. 

“Or maybe you don’t like receiving gifts from me,” he considers. “Well, I am a bad guy. If you want me to cut it out, you can tell me up front. I just hate seeing that look on your face.”

“...What look?” you whisper – trying your best to distract yourself from the heat of his touch.

Joshua sighs as he rubs your exposed skin tenderly. “The look you make when you’re sad. You’ve always been making that look ever since we left for the city. Honestly, I’ve even considered sending you back home a couple of times -”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “D-Don’t send me back. Please. Anywhere but there.”

You don’t even notice that your own hands moved on their own accord – palms placed on top of his much larger ones from where they now rest on your hips. Joshua stares at your reflection with wide eyes before he sighs, burying his face in the hollow of your neck.

This is a dangerous position to be in. He easily covers your body with his own, and you can only do so much to hold back the noises threatening to spill from your lips as Joshua massages your sensitive skin. 

“Then why do you keep refusing me?” he murmurs, teeth grazing the column of your throat. “From what I recall, you’re the one who came to me, princess. I thought you’d be more thick-skinned than that. Other women would kill to be in your place, you know.”

“That’s because I don’t get you, Joshua,” you argue, biting your lip when he starts to suck on your skin. “Y-You can be an ass at times, but you still do all these nice things for me anyway. You’re even splurging a shit-ton of money for no good reason. I get that you’re loaded but…why? Why are you being so kind to me?”

He lets out a soft laugh that reverberates sweetly across his chest – you feel the vibrations from where he presses himself behind you, and you have to clench your thighs together to stem your pooling desire. “You’re not used to being treated well by the people around you, huh?”

You scoff – the accusation stinging more than it should. “You think?”

Joshua doesn’t respond immediately – letting himself get a feel of your pliant body for as long as you allowed it first. He tries to familiarize himself with how your skin feels against his fingers; where your erogenous zones are, and the other spots that make you blush like a schoolgirl. It’s a bit selfish of him to delay such an important answer, but Joshua is nothing if he’s not selfish.

“When I was assigned to go to Korea, my…employer gave me an ultimatum – one that involves my family back home,” he tells you quietly. “If I don’t go back to L.A. with substantial results, they’ll be the one to suffer the punishment.”

Suddenly, you could see through the sensual haze that hung between the both of you seconds prior. Shock paints itself raw on your face as you blurt out, “You were blackmailed?” God, no wonder he didn’t want to talk about his family.

“Heh. I’m used to being blackmailed, pretty girl. It’s part of my job,” Joshua speaks nonchalantly. “But…that doesn’t mean I didn’t drag my ass here, nearly overwhelmed with anxiety. I’d kill a man if I was ordered to do it, but if my family’s lives are at stake? Anyone would be terrified.”

You feel your heart sink at the way his expression shifts into something more melancholic. Joshua exchanges his suggestive caresses for a proper embrace. He hugs you from behind, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo still lingering in your hair. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you whisper. “I don’t understand…”

“When you bumped into me at Andong that night, you kind of snapped me out of it,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t think of anything else but my job and my parents, but then you came along. Honestly, I was only supposed to help you get away from the assholes chasing you but…”

“I ran after you…” you continue, feeling more embarrassed than you should. 

Oh. You don’t even have the right to feel like shit for being with Joshua because you chose to be here, dammit! Why do you keep forgetting that?

“Exactly.” Joshua hums as he snakes an arm in front of your stomach, pushing your body against his chest. “I’m not always this territorial, you know, but you practically offered yourself up. Do you know what that does to a guy like me?”

You shouldn’t find it so fucking hot when his other hand trails up from your navel, your chest, all the way to your neck – thick fingers pressing down your throat with ample pressure. Your gazes meet in the mirror, and you don’t miss the near-manic glint in his eyes as Joshua holds onto you possessively.

“Now tell me, princess. Do you want the swimsuit or not?”

You can’t help the shuddering sigh that escapes your lips. At this point, you have no choice but to let him buy you the damn thing. You’re pretty sure Joshua’s aggressive display is enough to make you soak through your bottoms, and it’s not like he’s going to take no for an answer either.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as he eases his hand away from your neck. “I’m just…not used to wearing all of this. It’s like I’m not meant to. I’ve always just settled with clothes that go on sale, you know.”

“...Well, how do you feel about the stuff I give you?”

“Um. They’re all pretty, I guess?”

“Do you wanna wear them?”

“O-Of course.”

Finally, Joshua peels himself away – only to twirl you around to face him directly. His tousled black hair is sticking out every which way, but all you can focus on are his rich brown irises, nearly drowning you in those endless pools of honey. 

“Then you better wear them unapologetically,” he tells you, tucking a tuft of your hair behind your ear. “A princess needs only the finest garbs. Why do you think I call you that all the time, huh?”

“To get a rise out of me?”

Joshua barks out a laugh. “I guess I can’t say no to that. But anyways, the point still stands: I’ll give you anything and everything in the world. All you have to do is ask.”

After what seems like an eternity inside that damn dressing room, you manage to kick him out of the stall before putting your clothes back on. You end up replaying everything he just told you like a broken record. Anything and everything? This man is a different kind of delusional. 

But you can’t really afford to think about it much. Just as you thought, the evidence of your rather…risqué encounter with Joshua is lathered across the inseam of your bottoms, and you shamefully wipe it off with a napkin you nabbed from the restaurant.

When the two of you head back to the cashier to make your nth purchase of the day, you’re vaguely aware of the other sales persons stealing glances at you and Joshua. Well, if you were in their shoes, you’d certainly find it odd why it took almost thirty minutes for you to try on a damn swimsuit. But fortunately, Joshua's reputation precedes him even at a shopping center all the way in Seoul. None of them dare to speak to him, much more raise any complaints.

“Couldn’t you have waited to sit down and have the talk with me back in our hotel room?” you groan once you make it out of the store. “I’m sure those guys think you fucked me in the stall or something.”

“Would you like that?” Joshua teases, and you’re sure he would’ve pulled you close to him if only his hands weren't full of shopping bags. “Does my princess get off on the idea of being fucked silly in a dressing room?”

“Don’t push it, asshole.”

You meant to punctuate the words with a borderline scowl, but all that makes itself known on your face is a sheepish smile that you can’t quite bite down. Joshua notices this, of course, but instead of making you flustered about it like usual, he offers to flag down a taxi on the way back to the hotel instead of walking. 

The last thing he needs is to ruin your new pedicure, after all.

...

A week later, you and Joshua arrive at Jeju Island.

You didn’t even consider the possibility of this place having an airport. All this time, you assumed that sea travel was the way to go for them. But you were surprisingly greeted by the sight of a modern-looking terminal as you and Joshua waited for your luggage. He’s been quiet for the whole ride, and you’d be lying if you said that doesn’t concern you even a little. Joshua not running his mouth just to piss you off means something was up.

But when the two of you finally make it outside, he’s back to his usual self. 

“So, do you want to sample Jeju's finest mandarin orchards, or do you want to settle down at the hotel first?” he asks with a chipper smile. “Though you do look like you want to take a nap.”

“I do,” you reply, yawning as you lean against his shoulder. “Can’t we just cuddle today?”

“Oh? You’re offering cuddles for free? Who are you and what did you do my princess?”

“...Cringe.”

“Wha – Did you just say I’m cringe?!”

Your banter is interrupted by a man in a suit clearing his throat. You stare at him with thinly veiled confusion, wondering what he needed. 

“Sir Joshua. We’ve been anticipating your arrival.”

…Sir Joshua?  

“Oh, Chan. I didn’t think you’d be the one stationed here,” your companion greets the man with a smile – plucking your duffel bag from your grasp before handing it to the newcomer. “Tell the driver to bring us to the hotel first.”

Chan nods swiftly. “Understood, sir.”

That’s how you find yourself in the backseat of a high-end limousine – speeding through the scenic roads of Jeju as you and Joshua bask in the silence. He’s busy talking to someone on the phone, but you can’t bring yourself to eavesdrop on their conversation. It feels wrong to do so. 

Instead, you let yourself wonder what he has planned. After he fulfills his mission, what then? Is he going to take you back to L.A.? You’re not so deluded to think that he’ll stay here with you when he has a family waiting for him. But the idea of traveling all the way to his homeland makes you a little queasy. You’ve just gotten used to visiting far-away places in Korea. You think you’re going to need a bit more momentum before packing up to the other side of the world.

…Does he work well in the cold? You barely see him sweat even in the humid air of the summer. Maybe Joshua is the type of person who can easily adapt to the current climate. When that train of curiosity starts to pick up, though, you realize that it’s a little hard to stop. 

You want to know more about him. About his habits, his quirks, his family, and his work. He obviously likes you enough to keep showering you with gifts. Of course, you’ve tried asking a few questions about those in the past, and Joshua merely brushed them off with a laugh.

But things are different now. Ever since that…fateful encounter in the dressing room, he’s been more open with you. More up front about the things going on inside his head. If you push the right buttons, then you might be able to understand him a bit better.

Joshua pockets his phone about five minutes later, leaning against you before circling his arms around your waist. “Hmph. Can’t believe I’m still forced to think about work.”

“You can always just switch off your phone,” you suggest jokingly.

He only sighs in response, and you pat his head gingerly as a means of comfort. “By the way, I planned on scheduling a trip for Sunrise Peak, but turns out, it's closed to tourists for the weekend.” Joshua looks up at you, pouting. “Sorry, princess. I can only take you to the beach.”

He was planning a visit to Sunrise Peak? Well, you haven’t seen it with your own eyes yet, but the fact that Joshua is intuitive enough to hazard guesses about what you might and might not like… 

You want to familiarize yourself with him, the same way he so effortlessly does with you. 

Not giving him any leeway to pull back, you grab his face and mesh your lips on top of his. Joshua doesn’t respond for a few seconds – and you can almost imagine him staring at you with wide, brown eyes. But eventually, he laughs into the kiss before pressing his mouth firmly against yours.

“That’s fine by me,” you murmur. 

As long as I’m with you.

...

Your hotel room back at Seoul was one of the best you’ve seen, but the one here on Jeju just set the bar even higher. 

Once the two of you have settled down in your suite, you gaze around in awe at the interior. Everything is mostly made out of wood, which further adds to the appeal of it all. Seashell curtains, exotic carpets, hand-made wind chimes – they have it all. Not to mention, this room in particular comes with a private pool just by the balcony, along with a view that overlooks the sea. Joshua teases you about how excited you are – just like a kid on a school trip – but you decide to let his impudence slide.

“Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

You gaze at him sulkily by the edge of the pool, watching as Joshua smokes a cigarette on top of a folding chair. He’s already changed into his swimming trunks – having removed his shirt and other accessories. Yet he still refuses to get in the pool with you. Still, Joshua gets up from his chair with a soft laugh, padding closer as he crouches over the edge.

“You should know about the delicate art of having a smoke while watching your girl have fun,” he tells you, taking a drag as if to prove a point. 

Your eye twitches. “You’re the one who picked out my swimsuit, so you better have fun with me!”

Despite all his bravado, you don’t miss the look on Joshua's face when you yank on his leg – the forward momentum easily making him topple into the swimming pool. You let out an unflattering laugh as he flounders in the water for a few seconds before Joshua rises back to the surface with an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey, I don’t remember you being this much of a brat, princess,” he grumbles, picking off the doused cigarette floating in the pool before tossing it back on the concrete. 

“That’s my way of telling you to quit,” you say, snickering to yourself. “Seriously, it always smells like cigarettes in our old hotel room. The smoke detector must’ve been busted or something… Joshua?”

While you prattled on about the fact that you disliked a habit that he probably formed years before he even met you, Joshua waded through the water and cornered you by the side of the pool. You gulp, observing how the water glistens across his skin as his tattooed chest stands proud for you to see.

“You know, I noticed a little something over the past few days,” he whispers – mouth twitching into a no-good smile as he reaches a hand to cup your jaw. “You really like staring at my chest, don’t you?”

“Wrong. I like staring at your ink.” 

“But it’s still staring, isn’t it?” Joshua breathes out an airy laugh before planting a kiss on your forehead – the same way he did that time at the beauty salon. The patch of skin that’s grazed by his lips burns when he pulls away, and you hate how the sensation spreads across the rest of your face.

“How about we get you inked someday?” he offers. 

“Me? Getting a tattoo?” You blink. “Uh, I used to think about getting one when I was still in college, but…?!”

All of a sudden, this bastard places his hands on your waist before hoisting you out of the water like you weigh nothing more than a bag of rice. You scowl at him, thrashing around and splashing water everywhere. But Joshua doesn’t seem to be bothered by all your flailing. He even seems to be observing your lower body like he’s trying to figure out how to chop up each part for later. 

“Hmm… I think one on your thigh would suit you,” he says, lowering you onto the edge of the pool. “Navel tattoos are pretty hot, too.”

“But what’s the point if no one can see?” you huff. 

“Hey, my tatts are always covered,” Joshua reminds you. “That’s because only a select few are deserving to see them.”

His words ignite a surge of heat inside your chest. If you weren’t blushing before, you certainly are now. “...You think I’m deserving, then?”

Your companion spreads your legs wider, easing himself into the space between as he holds your thighs firmly in his hands. Joshua stares into your eyes with a gaze that’s meant to devour. You’ve always found it odd how much self-control he can actually exercise. Apart from the first night he tried to pounce on you, and that little escapade in the dressing room, he never once tried to make any moves on you again. For someone who talks big about how possessive and territorial he can be, Joshua is being awfully ascetic.

“Of course you are,” he murmurs. “Once we’re done here, I’ll bring you to the best tattoo artist in L.A. He’s the one who did both of my pieces.” 

Something about the promise in his words makes your heart leap with delight. He’s…going to bring you to Los Angeles? 

“Are you going to let me meet your parents, too?” you half-joke, shying away from his intense gaze.

“Why not?” he asks. “My mom loves independent girls. You’ve only been relying on yourself before you met me, right? That’s pretty awesome.”

You shrink away from the compliment, unused to being praised about that segment of your life. “I’m not sure how she’s going to react about me being a hostess, though.”

Joshua shakes his head. “Believe it or not, you’re one of the few people who can put me in my place, sweet girl. I’m convinced that she automatically takes to someone like that.”

“So you’re a problem child, then?”

“Ehh, can’t say I’m not.”

Just when you thought he’ll finally let his self-restraint snap, you and Joshua end up talking about his life in America by the poolside. He tells you about how his father taught him how to fish in the lake the next county over, how to hunt and survive out in the wilderness. He tells you about his mother, and how he’d do anything just to guarantee her safety; even if it comes at the expense of his own. He willingly divulges all his fond memories of his hometown, but not once does Joshua allude to anything involving his work.

You try not to take it so personally. After all, in spite of the drastic development in your…friendship? Relationship? Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re someone he hasn’t really known all that long.  

But as the two of you marvel at the twilight sun sinking on the faraway horizon, it seems that Joshua managed to read your mind.

“Can you believe it’s only been two weeks since we met?” he chuckles, hand inching closer to rest on top of yours.

“Nope,” you sigh. “I feel like I’ve known you far longer than that.”

“Heh. Time really flies when you’re having fun, does it?”

You couldn’t have said it better yourself. Honestly, you can’t even recall the last time you had fun. During the past few months, each day passed by painfully slowly. Despite being adored as Rei the hostess, you never had fun back at the bar; nor did you have fun coming home to your alcoholic of a father. 

As you glance over at Joshua – whose face is generously lit up by the soft orange light – you wonder if it’s really okay to turn your back on your life and just live the rest of your days by his side. It’s only been two weeks, but there was never a dull moment with him. But can you even afford to be more selfish than you already are?

“You really have a staring problem, you know that?”

“...Do you have a sixth sense or something?”

“I’m a trained fighter, princess. I’m supposed to know when I’m being watched.”

There it is – his first casual mention of his line of work. 

You can’t exactly narrow down the possibilities of what exactly it is that Joshua does for a living. You’re pretty sure that he’s in the same type of business as those loan sharks, but on a much larger scale. What’s more is that he’s trained to fight – as if his purpose lies more on confrontation than diplomatic relations. Him being stationed all the way here in Korea gives you a slight clue that he might be trying to settle the score with someone on behalf of his employer, though you can’t really say for sure.

But…you purposely shove all these thoughts in the back of your head as you lace your fingers around his neck – bringing his forehead against yours. Joshua doesn’t resist your advances. He even gazes at you with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, a hint of fondness shining in his vibrant irises.

Before meeting the man in front of you, you’ve always assumed that love takes time. You can’t call it love if you don’t even know the person that well! This is the very same thing you used to tell patrons who wanted to start a serious relationship with you back at the bar. But Joshua?

You don’t know how, but he managed to fill that void that’s long been tearing your heart to shreds. That seemingly ephemeral emptiness; the hollow space resting deep inside your chest – he filled it all up in the span of two weeks. Whether it be with all those expensive gifts and trinkets, or his worthwhile company alone, you don’t feel empty anymore. You feel so blissfully whole that you’d gladly lose yourself in him if it meant you never had to feel alone ever again.

“Shua, can I ask for something?”

“Heh. This is new. You never ask for anything,” he comments, and you still smell traces of tobacco in his breath. “What is it? Anything my princess wants, I’ll give to her in a heartbeat.”

On any other day, you would’ve chided him for saying something so cheesy – as if you haven’t gotten used to the way he speaks to you. But now, with the early evening breeze blowing all around, and the man who reminded you how it feels to be alive sitting so, so close to you…

“Can you make me yours?” you whisper.

Joshua stares at you, a low laugh rumbling in his bare chest. “You were already mine the moment you asked to come with me. Or are you forgetting that?”

Hot. His hands are hot against your hips – going lower and lower as he teases the ridge of your bottoms. God, you just want him to get it over with. You want him to grab your ass and take you by the poolside right here, right now. But you know, all too well, that Joshua isn’t going to let himself fall into the depths of his own depravity like that. Not until you give him a clearer sign.

“No…” you murmur, hoisting your thigh over his hips until you’re straddling his lap. “I want you –” You press your breasts against his lean chest. “To make me –” Your fingers trail up his neck, tangling them in his wild black hair. 

“Yours.”

You expect him to tease you like he always does – with that irritatingly handsome smile of his. But Joshua's eyes grow half-lidded as you press yourself closer to him, and you could’ve sworn his grip on your hips only became tighter. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty girl,” he warns you huskily. “I don’t want you to end up being the sore loser after I’m done with you.”

You chuckle, lips grazing his forehead, his eyelids, his nose. When you reach the spot just over his lips, you let your own hover for just a few seconds longer.

“I know,” you tell him. “I know, and I’m ready to lose.” 

If it’s you, I won’t ever mind.

Joshua lets out a strangled noise, like he’s barely holding on to what’s left of his own sanity. You’re slightly elated at the information. That just means he’s about to let himself go. To ravage you like you deserved. 

You’re not sure if it’s because of his own urgency or he’s just showing off. But Joshua makes a quick display of strength by picking you up while you’re still on his lap and getting back on his feet at the same time. He wastes no time mending your lips together – carnal and hungry and all sorts of impatient. Your legs immediately circle around his hips, and you bemoan all the days you wasted not getting kissed stupid by him.

But you console yourself with the idea that right now, you have all the time in the world.

...

The floorboards are damp with pool water, and so are the sheets. But you hardly notice it as Joshua strips you of the swimsuit he so carefully picked out for you. He tosses the spandex somewhere on the floor, and you even hear the wet plop as it hits. 

You feel like you should be cold – fresh out of the swimming pool and all – but the heat of Joshua’s body steadily permeates into yours, and can’t help but lean closer, closer, as close as you can – 

“I love you,” you whisper in-between kisses, feeling the evidence of his own arousal grinding against your own. You think the words don’t have as much weight when you’re doing something so openly intimate, but you don’t care.

He laughs, the sound sending tingles straight to your toes. “You sure you’re not just getting caught up in the moment, princess?”

You still have it in you to flash him a sulky pout, bringing his face right in front of yours as you spare him all the adoration you have in a single look. You desperately want him to know just how much you love him. You want him to carve this moment into memory and think of it even when the two of you are apart.

You want to anchor yourself so deep into Joshua that he can’t forget you even if he tries.

“Do you think I’m lying?” you whisper.

He sighs. “No.”

When he mouths the words I love you back in his own lust-fueled kisses, your heart soars; your body heats up – becoming more and more receptive to his lingering touch. Joshua’s lips never stray too far, even as he lathers the slick that’s collected between your thighs. His long fingers tease your entrance with the intention of seeing you squirm, and you hate how much you love it.

“Been waiting for you to come to me…for so long,” he growls, sliding two fingers inside you with embarrassing ease. “Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? Especially after that time in the dressing room?”

Huh, so even he still thinks about that day. You giggle at the ferociousness of his words, but the wanton look in his eyes softens when you caress the side of his face. 

“Two weeks isn’t a long time, Shua,” you tell him. 

“It’s long enough if you’re as pent up as I am.”

As he works his fingers between your thighs, you can’t help but sneak a glance at the hard length straining against his abdomen. It’s been a while, so your mouth practically waters at the thought of Joshua sinking his thick cock inside you – fast and hard and everything you’ve ever dreamed. 

But your attention is promptly ripped away when he curls his fingers just right, catching on a patch of spongy flesh that has you writhing underneath him. Joshua smirks at that, uncoiling his thick digits as he continues slowly pumping them inside. Your juices are starting to drip on his hand – a testament to just how badly you want him. 

When he makes you come, all you see are the vibrant brown of his eyes – like honey in the spring. Joshua looks at you with so much love and longing at the same time, you nearly sob in his embrace.

Despite the implication that he’s no longer going to be patient, Joshua lets you reel your own consciousness back from the throes of pleasure – kissing your forehead tenderly as he caresses your sides. 

“Do you want to go all the way?” he asks, but you already see him stroking his own cock from where he lays beside you. “Remember, I won’t force you into anything you don’t like, princess.”

You shake your head, still lightheaded from your orgasm. But still, the clarity of your desire shines through. “I…want you, Shua. Want you inside me.”

He sighs in a way like he just doesn’t know what to do with you. At your request, Joshua reluctantly peels himself away – earning a mewl in protest from you that he appeases with a kiss. 

“Stay put, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you feel good in a minute.”

Joshua climbs out of bed and walks over to the dresser buck naked. But you can’t even bring yourself to tease because he’s got such a shapely ass. Not to mention, you get to see the dragon tattoo on his back again. Even if you’ve developed a fondness for the twin koi fish on his chest, there’s just something about this piece in particular that’s always left an impression on you.

True to his word, Joshua comes back to bed with you as he tears a condom open with his teeth. You have half the mind to tell him that opening it like that isn’t very safe, but when he rolls the rubber on top of his throbbing length, you’re suddenly too bashful to speak up. 

He spreads your thighs apart, making himself at home in the space in between. You just know he’s getting a kick out of the way your body trembles as he rubs the head of his cock along your glistening seam. 

“Shua,” you whine. 

“You want this inside you?” Joshua teases, dipping himself into your entrance only to pull away before you can even feel an ounce of satisfaction. “C’mon, talk to me, princess. You know I like it when you’re being honest about the things you want.”

“Please…” 

“Hm? What was that?”

You hate him. You hate him so much that the feeling gradually bleeds into love. And if you aren’t already whipped for this jerk, you don’t know what this obsessive feeling inside you is anymore.

“Please fuck me,” you whimper. “Make me come on your cock.”

Joshua breathes sharply through his nose as he leans forward, grabbing both of your wrists as he pins them above your head with one hand. He uses the other to guide his length to where you want him most, and the moment before he finally, finally breaches your entrance, he whispers:

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

He muffles the broken moan that catches in your throat with his own lips – his lean arm going around your waist as he presses his hips flush against yours. You’re dripping enough arousal onto the sheets that Joshua doesn’t even have to take it as slow as he expected. You instinctively clench around the hard length inside you, memorizing the way he stretches out your walls, and Joshua responds in earnest with an impertinent groan.

There’s no room for words anymore. All you know is the sound of skin against skin and your mouth almost never parting from his. Joshua fills you until the void you feared might swallow you whole becomes nothing but a tiny speck in your soul. You wonder if it’s enough to be two separate people, and not just one. His touches, his kisses – they aren’t enough. And even when he pushes himself so impossibly deep, you still find yourself wanting, craving, yearning for more.

You’re insatiable. You love Joshua so much that your heart overflows with it. Maybe you’re simply deluded because he’s the first person who’s treated you like you were important; and not just some forgettable girl he met at a bar. But that doesn’t change the fact that you want him to hold you, and touch you, and love you until you forget everything else but the syllables of his name.

He practically folds you into the bed a few moments later as he mouths his professions of love along the curve of your neck. You lock your legs around his waist to keep him as close as possible – not wanting to be apart for even a millisecond. And Joshua seems to share the same sentiments as he embraces so you’d never leave his grasp.

I need you, you wish to tell him. He’s already giving you so much and more, but you still need him. It’s the kind of hankering that nearly scares you because how can you ever live without him now? But the flames of your own, all-consuming desire quickly recede once he captures your lips in a soft, almost sensual kiss. 

“I love you,” Joshua tells you aloud. 

You know it should be impossible because your lovers from the past have never even tried to get you to orgasm once they were done with you. But the moment he utters those words, and shifts his hips at such a delicious angle, he promptly pushes you over the edge – making you thrash and shudder underneath his weight as you mutter his name like a string of prayers. 

You just hope that the gods are generous enough to let you have him forever.

…

The beaches in Seoul and Andong pale in comparison to Jeju's – you promptly realize this when Joshua brings you out to the shore a few days later.

“I’ve never really enjoyed going to beaches until now,” you admit, laughing a bit as Joshua reaches for your hand and twines his fingers with yours. “I’m surprised you even have the time to come all the way here despite being on the job.”

He shrugs casually, and at the same time you care to admire how he looks in a tropical-printed button up that’s completely undone at the front. “Well, my deadline isn’t all that strict, pretty girl. I’m sure I can afford a quick getaway with you.”

You smile at him sweetly while the both of you stroll along the beachfront. Sometimes, the waves reach out to the shore far enough for the water to reach your toes, and you squeal in delight every time you do. You’d be lying if you say you didn’t expect Joshua to tease, but when you look at him, he merely looks back like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Like all lovers spending their morning on the beach, the two of you agreed to collect the prettiest seashells you can find. Though it was a bit hard, since there are a couple of signs indicating which ones you’re allowed to bring home, and which ones you should leave alone. Something about maintaining the ecosystem around the shore. 

But about half an hour before lunch time, Joshua calls out to you at the edge of the property.

The sundress he made you wear today flutters around your thighs as you make your way to his side. He’s crouched down on the sand as he picks up a peculiar brown shard.

“Wait,” you start, taking a closer look. “Is that a seashell? A broken seashell?”

“Seems like it,” he replies, retrieving the other pieces he can still salvage from the sand. “This doesn’t look like all the others we’ve seen though”

Joshua takes your hand and pressing the fragments into your palm. When you take a look at them, you realize the pieces are the same color as his eyes. 

“Do you…” you begin shyly, “want to make matching necklaces out of them? They’re a bit jagged now, but I know a jeweler back in Andong who –”

“Oh? So you do want to go back,” he jokes.

“Fine, never mind then.” 

Joshua’s laughter is slightly muted by the oncoming waves. Once your momentary annoyance fades, the two of you sit on the sand with your legs sprawled – letting the water tickle your toes. 

“I know I made a pretty bad joke just now, but can I ask you something?” he wonders.

“What is it?”

“It’s about the loan your dad supposedly took without your knowledge.” Joshua starts tracing idle shapes in the sand as he speaks. “You seemed in deep shit the night I met you, and I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

With his money and influence, you’re sure that Joshua could pull a few strings to get those debt collectors to lay off you. But it won’t really matter if you never go back to Andong, right? Still, you tell him about the five million won that your father suddenly loaned. How those loan sharks told you that he said that you’re going to pay for it all – on top of your remaining balance for the month. Just recalling it was already enough to piss you off all over again.

At the end of your story, though, Joshua ends up snorting with amusement.

“Sounds to me like you’re being tricked, princess,” he chuckles. “No one can rack up a debt that high unless you’re a trusted confidant. I’m sure the Korean mafia has limits to how much they’re willing to loan other people at a certain given time. Those loan sharks probably tricked you and forged the document because you were paying out the previous debt properly.” 

Your jaw practically drops to the ground. “They tricked me?”

“Seems like it. And now, you have grounds for a lawsuit! Maybe. I’m not sure, but I can help you pay for a lawyer if it all gets down to it.” Joshua shrugs. “Anyway, now that you know that the loan was probably a scam, why don’t you go back and talk to your old man? Isn’t he the only family you have?”

Your dad… Well, now you feel a bit bad for judging him so harshly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s an alcoholic and a gambler, but you do see him trying to be better from time to time. 

“Yeah. My mom died when I was in high school, and it’s just been us ever since.” You tell him all this without meeting his eyes, unsure of how to react if he gazes at you with pity. But Joshua doesn’t offer his condolences, nor does he try to cheer you up. Instead, he suggests something that you probably should do.

“You should go back to your father,” he whispers. “I’m sure he’s worried sick.”

The waves wash upon the shore again, and this time, you actually turn around to look at him. Is he serious? Is this the same, so-called territorial man you met two weeks ago? If any of the things he’s told you were true, that’s the last thing you expected for Joshua to say to your face.

“If your father isn’t behind that loan fiasco, then you should at least let him know you’re okay, princess,” he tells you sincerely, rubbing your hand with comforting circles. “You’re the last family he has left, and I’m sure you know what loss does to a person.”

You sit there in the silence, letting Joshua’s words simmer inside your mind. You suppose that he’s right about everything. Those assumptions you made about your father are unfair, and you shouldn’t just abandon him now that Joshua helped clear up the misunderstanding. You know all these things, and you recognize them as what’s truthful and right. 

But…why does Joshua sound like he’s saying goodbye?

“Okay, I’ll do that,” you say, forcing your voice not to tremble. “But once you finish your mission, promise that you’ll take me to L.A.?”

He stares at you with equal parts surprise and disbelief – his handsome face twisting with a grin so lovely, you wonder why he never smiled at you like this before. Joshua shakes his head before rising back to his feet, hoisting you up by your waist as he spins you around.

You shriek in bewilderment, telling him to put you back down. He doesn’t relent right away, but once Joshua finally heeds your desperate request he sets you down on the sand – placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, princess. What do you want to do there?”

You puff out your cheeks, not liking how it sounds as if he’s teasing you. Nonetheless, you give him the straightest answer you can manage.

“I want to meet your family. Your parents. Your friends. Everyone,” you tell him. “I want to go fishing because you love it so much, and it helps you meditate.”

Joshua hums. “America is leagues different from Korea, though. You sure about that?”

“Hmph. You’ll make a nice tour guide, won't you?”

“Heh.” He moves closer to wrap his arms around your frame, embracing you so firmly that you can’t help but melt into his touch. “Of course I will, pretty girl. But what do you want to do after we do all that?”

You flash him a puzzled look. “What?”

“Since we’re planning so far ahead, we might as well plan until the end, right?” He chuckles, one hand going to the side of your face as he touches you tenderly. “What else does my demanding princess wish for?”

For a moment, you consider his question seriously. What happens after? Well…

“I want to travel,” you say. “I took up an international relations course when I was in college ‘cause I always wanted to see the world.”

Joshua nods. “And?”

You gulp – unsure if what you’re about to say is a bit selfish or not. “Well, getting to see some places around Korea with you was the best time of my life. And I’m sure it’ll be just as fun if we see the world together.”

It sounds like such a juvenile dream, now that you think about it. But sometimes, even the most childish desires can lead to the most unforgettable experiences. You only decided to tag along with Joshua on a whim, and it turned out to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made.

You just hope he feels the same way, too.

He nods again, a pesky smile rooting itself on his face. When Joshua kisses the hand that isn’t clutching shards of broken brown seashells, you can’t help but blush.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

It’s already high noon by the time the two of you conclude your seashell hunting session, and Joshua is already complaining about breakfast not being heavy enough. You let your gaze linger around the beautiful beachfront just a bit longer, wondering if you can visit this place again with him in the future.

“Joshua?”

He pauses mid-way in his rant, gazing at you with curious, brown eyes. “Yeah?”

You crack him a warm smile. “Can you tell me your real name?”

The ocean’s waves reach your ears again in the silence, as Joshua stands in front of you like you’d just unraveled all the secrets of the universe. You don’t miss the way his emotions seemingly conflict in his eyes, but in the end, he spares you the truth anyway.

“Jisoo.”

“Do you love me, Jisoo?”

He crosses the distance between you before you can even breathe, kissing you so deeply that you’re a little concerned that some of the hotel staff might be watching and judging you on the sidelines. But you know better than to give a damn about what others think when you’re with Joshua – no, Jisoo.  

When he pulls away, you can almost see the ocean glimmering in your lover’s eyes.

“More than anything in the world.”

...

Despite that romantic morning, you can’t help but feel like something bad’s about to happen. Your mother used to tell you that you should always trust your gut. And right now, your gut is telling you that everything that’s making you unbelievably happy right now is going to disappear right before your eyes. 

The anxiousness that comes with all that foreboding does little to help you keep up appearances, too. During dinner, Joshua – because he asked you to keep calling him that in public for your own safety – was telling you about the time he almost got run over as a kid, and you completely spaced out in the middle of it.

Of course, your sharp-eyed lover is keen enough to notice just how distracted you were. You attempted to make excuses for your lack of focus, but one thing led to another, and you ended up spilling wine all over your new sundress.

And now here you are, sulking in your bedroom as Joshua makes the arrangements to have your dress dry-cleaned on the intercom before you have to leave.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice comes out so softly, you nearly miss it. He sits with you at the edge of the bed, reaching out to clasp your hand in his much larger ones. The gesture is comforting, but your unease doesn’t fade away.

Should you tell him about this weird gut feeling? But you don’t want him to worry about you when this is probably just something trivial. Yet, you’ve always been weak to your own emotions. Before you can even cook up another half-baked excuse, the tears have already started streaming down your face.

“Everything’s going so well,” you sniffle, turning to him with misty eyes. “Y-You’re right in front of me but… Why do I feel like you’re already slipping away?”

Joshua's face doesn’t betray any sort of emotion. His honeyed eyes merely flicker down to where your hands are intertwined, and you don’t know if you should take that as a good sign or not.

“I’ll always be with you, you know,” he whispers, letting one of his hands trail up to the new necklace sitting on your throat before the other moves to wipe away your tears. “Always.”

A traveling jeweler offered to fashion a necklace out of the seashell fragments you found once you got back from the beachfront. And while this isn’t the work of your acquaintance from Andong, they managed to carve out the shell to resemble a heart. They even charged you for the labor only, and gave the chain for free. At first, you wanted to refuse, but these pesky feelings were already bothering you at the beach. 

Is it so bad for you to want a tangible representation of Joshua’s promises?

The fact that he wears a similar necklace eases your troubles a bit. It makes you think that maybe it’s really all just in your head. Though you know better than to think you’re out of the woods.

That night, he undresses you with unspoken apologies imbued in each kiss. You wonder if he’s sorry for unintentionally making you feel this way or something else. You don’t know. You don’t care. Because when you’re on the verge of collapsing from all these unpleasant feelings, it’s Joshua who holds you together before you can shatter into a thousand pieces at his feet. 

That’s right… Joshua – rather, Jisoo always fills you to the brim. He fills you with so much love that you can almost forget what it feels to be void; what it feels to be empty. 

But in the midst of it, he pulls away with a regretful sigh. “We already used up the condoms I have, princess. This is as far as we can go.”

“It’s – It’s alright.”

He snaps his head in your direction, beautiful brown eyes rigid with shock. But you don’t give him any leeway to feel guilt nor hesitation. When you pull him down with you to the bed, he doesn’t strain against your touch.

Jisoo is the reason why the life you thought was so dull suddenly has more color to it now. He taught you to have a little more hope for the future. To reevaluate the past for what it actually is. And most of all, he’s the one who taught you how to treasure yourself as you are in the present. 

If this is the last night you’ll ever share with him, then you’re going to make the most out of it.

...

“So we hop on a plane to Incheon, a train to Andong, and talk to my dad.” You list down the day’s itinerary before glancing at Joshua for confirmation. “Sounds like a plan, right?”

“I dunno, princess. Meeting the parents always makes me nervous,” he chuckles.

“...So you have met the parents of other girls.”

“Hey, that was only one time!”

You and Joshua managed to head over to the airport fairly quickly the next day – with a lot of time to kill before your plane actually leaves the island. The two of you decide to hang out in the waiting lounge, but this reminds you to not be too early for your flights next time. Apart from those weird negative feelings you had last night, boredom is your greatest enemy.

About thirty minutes before boarding time, you carelessly let slip that you’re craving some coffee right now. Joshua is quick to get on his feet and get you one from a nearby vending machine, of course. But just when he’s about to take a seat right beside you, he blurts out:

“I’m really glad I met you, princess.” He smiles, handing you your drink. “Even if you’re growing more and more bratty as the days go by.”

“You’re the one who made me like this, so deal with it.” You huff, before following it up with a much nicer: “But…I’m glad I met you, too, Jisoo.”

You half-expect him to clamp a hand around your mouth for calling him by his real name, but Joshua simply lets his head rest against your shoulder, holding your hand as tenderly as he always does.

“Hey, I’m just going to go out for a real quick smoke.”

Joshua informs you of his unnecessary need for a cancer stick just when you’ve settled into your seat on the plane. You scowl at him as he places that knapsack full of cash into your arms. 

“We’re about to take off, you idiot!” you whisper. “Can’t that wait until we land in Seoul?”

“Nope.” He beams at you. “I won’t be long, don’t worry~”

And then he’s off.

“Goddamn chainsmokers,” you mutter, angrily plopping the damn backpack to the vacant seat right next to you. 

As you watch the scenery in the airport unfold from the window to your left, you catch sight of your own reflection despite the bright light outside. Your hands trail up to the modified seashell around your neck, twirling it fondly between your fingers. This is the first solid proof of the time you spent with Joshua. You’re sure that he’s going to spoil you with even more gifts when you get to L.A., but this one is probably going to be your favorite for a long, long time. 

After all, this seashell is the same color as his eyes. 

Suddenly, you hear a clicking sound coming from above, and when you glance around, you see that the seatbelt sign is lit up. A soft voice flits through the speakers, informing all passengers that the aircraft is ready for takeoff. Frowning deeply, you call the attention of a nearby attendant. 

“Excuse me, my boyfriend isn’t here yet.”

She stares at you, puzzled. “I’m sorry, miss. But we confirmed that all paid passengers are already in their seats.”

At that second, your world crumbles. The void begins to rip itself back into your heart. The attendant asks if there’s anything wrong, but you dismiss her with a shake of your head.

Why do I feel like you’re slipping away from my fingers?

As you sit all alone in that plane, you realize that your mother was right all along. 

You should’ve trusted your goddamn gut.

...

Joshua smokes through half his pack of cigarettes when he makes it outside the airport – lingering by the parking lot as he watches each plane soar into the sky. He has no idea which one you’re on, or if you’re even still here on Jeju Island. But with each painful drag he forces into his lungs, he finds himself praying.

Praying that you’ll forgive him for what he just did. Praying that you’ll be able to find happiness even without him. 

His phone rings before his guilt gets the better of his emotions. The name S.Coups flashes on the encrypted caller ID.

“Took you long enough to pick up,” the informant sighs. “For someone who’s in dire need of intelligence, you’re acting awfully lax, Shua. Let’s see… You’re looking for Jeonghan. Is that right?”

He kills his last cigarette under his heel – all those feelings you effortlessly stirred up inside him dying along with the waning flame.

“Bullseye,” he replies, voice tinged with his usual mirth despite feeling like he’s just lost everything good in his life. “You got anything for me?”

Yeah, that’s right.

You don’t need someone like him to be happy.

…

The hotel room you booked for the night is small and quiet.

When you shut the door behind you, the sound rings in your ears – loud enough to emphasize that you’re all alone. You decide not to pay it any mind before dragging the rest of your luggage further inside. 

When you arrived at Incheon Airport a few hours earlier, you couldn’t even muster up the tears. All you felt was that familiar emptiness that never seemed to leave you alone until Joshua came into your life. A dreadful void that was twice as massive now that you got a taste of how it feels like to be whole. 

Once you’ve claimed your baggage, you wasted no time ushering yourself out of the terminal. You’ve long decided to stay in Incheon for a while, given that you couldn’t exactly meet your father in such a state. But before making your way to the nearest hotel you could find, you made it a point to stop by a convenience store to buy a lighter and pack of cigarettes. 

For someone who’s more loaded than you could ever hope to be, Joshua liked smoking cheap brands. He told you it’s because those things could easily be bought anywhere. But his reasons for the odd preference were the last thing on your mind as you light up the first stick – taking a long drag that ends up making you cough out smoke and brings tears in your eyes. 

You fucking hate cigarettes. This is going to be one of the cold hard truths in your life. You hated them when you still worked as a hostess, and you hated them every time Joshua had the gall to smoke one in front of you.

…But this is the only piece of him that you have left to cling to. You like to think that each stick can help fill the void, even if it’s just smoke and ashes and false hopes. You always wondered why Joshua couldn’t bring himself to forego the habit. But maybe – just maybe – there’s also a void inside him. One that can’t easily be filled, the same one you’ve always struggled with.

Before that train of thought can fester any longer, you kill it along with the fifth cancer stick you’ve had for the day. The ashtray is full of cigarettes you could barely smoke past the filter, but you’re not about to give a shit.

In the solitude of your room, you wonder if you can ever forget those sunsets in Jeju. How your toes sank into the sand. How the salty ocean breeze tossed your hair around. If you close your eyes, you can still feel it on your skin.

But most of all, you ask yourself – can you ever forget Jisoo?

His eyes. His hair. His stupid tattoos. You abhorred how he always smelled like cigarettes, yet you’ve locked yourself up in some fancy hotel room to smoke a few just because you’re left with a ridiculous amount of laundered cash. Along with the bags full of those pretentious gifts he gave you, you selfishly kept the money because you deserve the goddamn means to take a real break from it all.

You don’t pay attention to the rest of your luggage – eyes solely focused on the knapsack lying idly on the mattress. Against your better judgment, you force yourself back to your feet, padding towards the bed as you open the zipper. 

Cash, cash, another wad of cash. You scoop every single piece out of the bag for no real reason. Is this solving any of your problems? No. Does it help you vent out your feelings? Yes. 

Stupid Jisoo, and his stupid fucking promises. Well, he never explicitly promised you anything, but still! What kind of evil maniac lets a hapless maiden fall in love with them, only to leave them hanging? Not all unfortunate ladies who’ve been pathetically led on by a handsome man were left with hundreds of thousands of won as some sort of compensation, sure. But that didn’t change the fact that you were fucking grieving.

You wanted to shout. To break something. To curse Jisoo Whatever-his-last-name-is so he can never find another woman like you. But once you reach the bottom of the knapsack, your anger is quick to go up in smoke.

There’s a red baseball cap inside – the same one Jisoo was wearing the night you met him.

You didn’t cry when you realized the love of your life had left you without saying goodbye. You didn’t cry as you carried your luggage alone in the airport. You didn’t cry either when you marched into this lonely, lonely hotel room.

But somehow, seeing that bright red cap made everything crash over you like a tidal wave.

“I thought you loved me more than anything in the world,” you murmur to yourself, holding that silly hat to your chest like a goddamn lifeline. 

“Was that a hoax all along...Jisoo?”

...

The small village near Silverwood Lake is remote yet accessible at the same time. It’s the heart of tourism in the lesser known counties in California, so it comes as no surprise to see a dozen people bustling in and out of the borders.

In that same town, a young boy with big brown eyes wanders around the market – dark tufts peeking from beneath a tattered baseball cap. Though he seems like any other local his age, he doesn't actually know the language. His English is still a bit lacking, but he swears half of the time that his mother teaches him bits and pieces when she has time.

Right now, she’s somewhere by the lakeside, talking with an important political figure in the town as his entourage shows her around the area. The boy wasn’t a fan of all those pleasantries, so he asked her if he could look around in the market instead. Like all mothers, her initial reaction was to tell him no, but eventually, the puppy eyes he’s practiced on her for years made good on their purpose.

Fine. Just don’t wander too far, Shuji. Promise?

As much as he dislikes breaking promises with his mother – he knows how sensitive she is about those, despite her age – the young boy figures that what she doesn’t know won’t kill her. He’s fifteen now. Even if he’s in a foreign country, he’s smart enough not to get lost in unfamiliar places.

So, when he finds nothing interesting in the market, the boy follows a merchant’s route that bypasses a huge forest. This is the road that he and his mother took on the way to the town, so he’s slightly familiar with the terrain. But still, the perspectives are warped when one traverses it on foot.

He follows the route just like he initially planned – admiring the looming pine trees rising everywhere he looked. His mother has taken him to all sorts of places because of her job, but America might make it to the top of his list at this rate. Though, his eyes are quick to spot a fork in the road – one barely visible unless you know what you’re looking for. 

The boy glances around, but no one else is in sight.

Ravens caw overhead as he traverses the stray path. Dead leaves and crunch underfoot as the trees seem to grow thicker around him. Anyone else would feel terrified of being in such a place, but the boy has always had a knack for braving the unknown.

His courage is rewarded once he arrives at the end of the road, revealing a magnificent lake that he could never hope to see if he’d stuck to the main route. This one's different from Silverwood Lake. It's much smaller, and less polluted by civilization.

He stares at the scenery with wide eyes, taking out his phone from the pocket of his jacket before snapping a few pictures to show his mother for later.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here?”

The boy startles at the sound of another voice, and he realizes that there’s another person sharing this view with him. A man, much older than he is, sits on a foldable chair by the edge of the lake – fishing rod in hand as he tosses the reel into the water.

“Just…looking around.” He only replies with broken English because he doesn’t think the stranger is someone sketchy. The boy even notices the sturdy looking crutch propped against his seat. “What are you doing?”

For a moment, the man simply looks at him before surprising the boy with very fluent Korean.

“Fishing. What else do you think it looks like, kid?” the man says a-matter-of-factly as he rakes his fingers through his dark yet graying hair. 

He gulps before switching to his mother tongue. “There’s fish underneath?”

“Of course there's fish underneath.” The fisherman rolls his eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you? You lost?”

The boy shakes his head. “I told you, I was just looking around.”

“Okay. Tell your parents to come get you then,” the man tells him – growing slightly annoyed at his peaceful fishing session having been interrupted. 

“My mother’s busy. My father’s a scumbag who left her alone.” The young boy shrugs. “I’m pretty much free to do whatever I want, mister.”

A few moments pass by in silence, and he wonders if he said something strange. But either way, the man’s irritation morphs into amusement. “Shitty dad, huh?” he chuckles. “That’s right. Don’t ever forgive the people who’d hurt your mom. What’s your name, kid?”

The stranger jolts his fishing rod before the boy can give an answer, hauling a fish out of the water right before his eyes before dumping his latest catch in a wicker basket. 

“Jisoo,” the boy tells him. “But my mom calls me Shuji”

To his surprise, the man simply nods. “Cool name.”

“Aren’t you going to say it’s weird or something?”

“Now you’re just asking too many questions.”

“My mom said it’s common courtesy to exchange names on the first meeting,” the boy huffs. “So are you going to tell me or not?” 

The man sighs. “You’re really demanding for a kid. Kinda reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“...I’m leaving.”

“Ah! Wait a sec, lemme just pack up and I’ll head back to the harbor with you. If you wander around, you might just get mauled by the wolves,” the man tuts, already putting away his reel before folding his chair back up. That’s when the boy notices a glint of brown attached to a cord around his neck. He squints.

Has he seen that necklace before? 

But there isn’t exactly much room to ponder about that. The man is struggling to tidy up on both feet – clearly unfit to protect anyone from woodland predators. The boy wonders if he’s injured himself so badly before that the aftermath still lingers. But still, he finds it a bit awkward to just stand around, so he walks over to him with a defeated sigh, offering to carry the fish basket and chair in his stead.

“What happened to your leg?” he wonders.

The man brushes the hair out of his face, looking forward as he leans on his crutch. “Got fucked up by a bunch of…gangsters a few years back. Haven’t been the same since.”

“...My mom knows a lot of doctors all over the world,” the boy says. “I’m sure she can find someone who can help you walk normally again.”

“Hm? Aren’t you being too generous to someone you just met, kid?”

He frowns. “I was taught by mom to treat everyone with basic decency.”

“Heh. You really love your mom, don’t you? Does she travel a lot?”

“For work, yeah. She’s a diplomat.” 

The boy wonders if this is really okay. His mother might just be mortified at the thought of her only son talking to a stranger like they’ve known each other for years. But there’s just something about this man that he can’t quite pin down. Something that makes it easy to talk to him, even if they only met literally ten minutes earlier.

Well, his mother was looking for fresh catches to have for dinner anyways. Maybe she’ll let his penchant for making friends in unlikely places slide once he introduces her to this strange fisherman with fucked up legs.

⟢ end notes: if you made it this far, congrats UEYRUEF I KNOWWWW i have a shit ton of wips waiting in line, but i've been contemplating abt repurposing this fic for joshua for SOOOOO LONG. after hearing some advice from a few friends, i decided to just go for it and viola! 18k words shua angst was born out of nowhere. i felt so EMPTY the first time i finished writing it, so i hope you feel the same way too :3c

[pedantic-poison]

Rulebreaker | CS55

pairing: fem brat!reader x brat tamer!carlos sainz jr

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, language, dom!carlos x brat!reader, spanking (mostly with hands, briefly with a belt), sir kink, degradation, a wee bit of praise, names used for reader (princesa, cariño, slut, good girl), fingering, unprotected p in v (use protection irl!!!), mention of safeword but no use of it, aftercare

requested: sort of based on an ask I got for another driver that I couldn't make it work for

word count: 5.3k

author's note: i hope y'all like this one! i've been working on this for ages now and it got really really long so as always feedback of any kind is much appreciated!

You knew you weren't supposed to.

You knew you really weren't supposed to.

But it had been weeks without seeing Carlos and at this point you felt like you were losing your mind, so you muster the strength to drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom.

Really it was Carlos' bedroom, since you were housesitting for him while he was gone. You weren't sure if that was making it better or worse - constantly being surrounded by his things, sleeping in his sheets, wearing his shirts because they smelled like him.

At least for right now, those last two were about to be very helpful, as you dropped yourself onto the still messy sheets you'd been sleeping in, inhaling the scent of him as you grabbed your vibe from your bedside table where you'd stashed it. You knew you weren't supposed to touch yourself, so you really didn't even know why you'd brought it in the first place, but you just needed some kind of relief - even without Carlos here to give it to you.

The fluffy pillows and sheets seemed to envelop you as you sank further in them, sighing with contentment as you started to trail your hands along your inner thighs, briefly teasing yourself through your panties before quickly discarding them, leaving you clothed only in an old t-shirt of Carlos'. His name left your lips in a breath as the vibrator made contact with your clit, tracing light circles around the bud before slowly applying more and more pressure.

You felt yourself getting wetter as you went, the shirt so oversized that it rested below your butt, meaning that when a drop of your arousal trailed down from your cunt, it landed on Carlos' shirt. It was so filthy that a moan tore out of you, harsh and unexpected, at the thought of your arousal mixing with the smell of him on the shirt, digging your face deeper into the pillow next to your head to inhale him as much as you could. Your back had started to bow off the bed, legs twitching around your hand as you fought to keep them open. Forcing your other hand to leave its spot latched onto the sheets at your side, you slowly sank a finger into yourself, just barely brushing that spot as you -

Heard your ringtone go off.

Huffing in frustration, you instinctively went to turn your phone off when you stopped to actually read the name on the screen. You dropped everything else you'd been doing, picking up the phone before it finished the third ring.

"Carlos!"

His chuckle came through the speaker first, deeper than usual, and a little bit scratchy, telling you that wherever he was (you'd lost track at this point), he'd just woken up. "Hi, cariño, how're you doing?"

"I'm fine, I miss you though," you inhaled deeper than you normally would've, the effort to catch your breath reminding you of what you'd just been doing, and just how much you were not supposed to be doing it. "A lot," you added belatedly, swallowing hard to try not to show your actions in your voice.

"I know, I miss you too. Are you taking care of yourself while I'm gone? Your voice sounds a little hoarse." He was only being sweet, but your mouth went dry at the question, mind racing to try and come up with a convincing enough excuse that- "Cariño? Are you still there?"

Shit. "Oh, um - yes! Sorry, I think the call cut out or something," you mumbled, hoping if you said it quickly enough he wouldn't think too hard about what you'd said. "But yeah, I think I might have a little cold. Nothing too bad, but my throat's been a little," you cleared your throat with a small (and hopefully convincing) cough, "sore for most of the day."

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that, princesa," Carlos cooed sympathetically, but there was a slight edge to his voice that you found a little odd, almost mocking. "You know how I hate it when you lie to me." Confused at how he'd found you out, you freeze, your lack of a response prompting him to explain, "I can hear your vibrator buzzing through the phone. Not that I needed that to tell what you've been doing, but that makes it pretty obvious, no?"

Your eyes went wide, darting to the vibe where it sat, abandoned and still buzzing away, where you'd thrown it down on the sheets. Shutting it off quickly, you shoved it away under the sheets, like that would make any sort of difference when he'd already heard it and knew what it was.

"Carlos, I-"

"Honestly, cariño, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" His voice had gone hard, still gruff and deep from having slept, and that ache in your core that you'd temporarily forgotten about returned tenfold at the sound of it. "Did you forget how much time I've spent memorizing all the little noises you make? The way your breathing changes when you're close? The way you either talk too slow or too fast because you can't think straight? The scratch in your voice when you've had your mouth hanging open while you moan?"

You could only clench your thighs in response, inhaling shakily at his filthy words. The idea of him being so occupied with thoughts of you and the ways you sounded when he touched you these past few weeks made you flush with heat, feeling it spread down your neck and chest, under the fabric of his shirt.

"You only had to wait a few more days, and you couldn't even manage that, could you? So disobedient, princesa," his breathing had deepened, and you realized with a start that your hand had returned to the apex of your thighs, trailing along the hem of the shirt laying atop your bare legs where they were tucked under you.

"I - I'm sorry," you finally breathed out. "I couldn't help it. You've just been gone for so long, and your rules are so unfair." Your voice took on a whine as you spoke, flopping down onto your back dramatically as you sighed. You'd been caught, so there was no real point in trying to behave anymore.

Carlos chuckled again, this time much darker than the last, "I know you think they're unfair, princesa. I can tell from how much you complain about them, and from how often you break them," voice tightening, like he was restraining himself. The sound of it sent your hand beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, creeping back towards your still exposed, still weeping cunt.

"Then maybe those rules should change," your fingers, still damp with your arousal, grazed your clit. "Since they don't seem to be working too well," the words rushed out of just a little too fast as you began to circle the bud again.

"Watch it, cariño. There's a reason you're not in charge," he warned, the exercise of authority making you whimper. "Now, be a good girl and get those fingers out of your tight little pussy."

You took a breath.

"Or what?"

Carlos' end of the call fell silent for a moment longer than you expected.

"You are playing with fire here, princesa."

The phone line clicked, and the call ended.

You tossed your phone to the end of the bed, frustrated in every way imaginable. If he was going to be such an asshole, the least he could do was let you get off to the sound of his voice while he was gone. Now, you were even more desperate than before, and in a few days' time when he returned, you knew he'd punish you.

A devilish thought occurred to you. If you were already in trouble, you might as well enjoy it then, right? Get as much out of the time before he came home as you possibly could.

You fell asleep right there later that night, satisfied (for now) and surrounded by the smell of Carlos and you mingling on his sheets. When the sun woke you, you'd slept so hard that for a brief moment the emptiness of the bed surprised you, before remembering that you still had four more days to go. And just like that, the frustration returned.

Completely undaunted by the disobedience now, you reached right down between your thighs, touching yourself to the thoughts of Carlos that had swum through your mind last night. You were so desperate.

So absorbed by the feeling of it.

So blind to anything but chasing that pleasure.

You didn't even hear the front door unlock.

Or the drop of a bag inside the doorway.

The sound of shoes walking through the living room.

Padding up the stairs.

Stopping in the threshold of the room.

Of his room.

"Dios, you are such a fucking brat."

The sound ripped you away from your fantasies, gasping as you sat straight up and nearly screaming out of shock. Carlos stood at the foot of your bed - his bed - watching you, dark eyes contrasting with the stark white shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair was mussed (though probably not as badly as yours), like he'd barely slept on the plane, and his hands, hidden by the pockets of his dress pants, were undoubtedly clenched, judging by the bulging veins in his forearms. He looked furious.

He was furious. Had been ever since that phone call with you, after hearing your voice, breathy and full of attitude. He kept being furious during the pointless meetings he had to sit through for hours about god knows what, during the entire plane ride where his head swam with thoughts of you and what he would do to you when he got his hands on you, and during his drive back to his house where his knuckles went white from his grip on the wheel. And now, looking at you, sprawled in his bed, clad only in one of his shirts, moaning his name, he couldn't hold back the intense, primal feelings of possession that flooded him. With your face hot and breaths coming fast, eyes hazy with sleep and lust, and legs spread wide in front of him, leaving your pussy on display, glistening like you were welcoming him home, he knew he would've ruined you anyways, even without your constant disobedience. You couldn't follow his rules because you needed him that badly. Needed to feel his presence even when he wasn't there. He certainly had no issue with reminding you just how much he owned you.

"Carlos... you're... home early," you mumbled, out of breath from the shock of his arrival and the buildup of pleasure it ruined.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" He prowled closer to the end of the bed, and you subconsciously drew yourself closer to the headboard. You swallowed hard, clamping your jaw shut and refusing to give him any sort of answer. That would only make it worse for you. But you'd long since given up on staying out of trouble with Carlos.

That certainly wasn't new information to Carlos, either, but it still grated against him when you remained silent, the stubborn set of your brows as you tried your damnedest to stare him down only stoking his need to put you in your place. Glancing down to your still spread legs, Carlos allowed his eyes to trail hungrily over you once more, before reaching forward and grasping your ankle, tugging harshly. The force of it surprised a yelp out of you, bringing a grin to Carlos' face as he situated you at the end of the bed, legs spread to make room for him between them as he stood over you.

"Oh, princesa... you do know you're in trouble, no?" Fingertips grazed over your cheek, trailing down the column of your neck. When you remained silent, the light touch of fingertips became his full palm, hand wrapping around your throat, slowly applying the tiniest bit of pressure. "It's cute, this little act of defiance you put on. Makes me want to fuck the fight right out of you." The grip tightens briefly, before disappearing altogether.

Then your face presses into the bedsheets, Carlos flipping you onto your front. He does it so easily, manhandling you with such minimal effort that it sends a thrum of heat through you. Strong, large hands roughly grope your ass cheeks, spreading them apart so he can see your cunt clearly.

"Such a needy little slut," he tsks, laughing wryly as your pussy clenches from the cold of the air and the pure filth of his words. And then, the heat of his hands and body are gone. You whine, knowing that with the mood he was in, he would make you wait and wait and wait before he followed through on his promise and actually fucked the defiance out of you (or at least tried to).

Turning your head to the side, you watch as Carlos settles himself on the side of the bed, cock already visibly hard through his trousers. "Get up," he tells, not asks, you, voice stern. The doting, adoring Carlos that you loved had taken a backseat to this almost predatory side of him, and you had to admit you loved it just as much. Opting to listen (for once) you stand up from the bed. "Good girl," he hums, pleased, "now strip for me." It's an easy enough task, shedding his shirt and letting it drop carelessly to the floor. His eyes don't leave your body for a moment, raking over your naked figure as if he'd never seen you before. Wordlessly, he patted his thigh, beckoning you to him, and you went willingly. You knew what he was telling you to do, but you still optimistically went to straddle him, earning you a swift smack to the thigh you had raised up onto the bed. "You know exactly what you're supposed to do right now, cariño. Don't make me tell you."

The contact had ratcheted up your awareness, feeling his every breath as you laid yourself across Carlos' lap, ass in the air and hands already gripping onto the bedsheets in front of you, knowing what was coming. "There, was that really so hard? Always wanting to cause trouble," he mused, hands caressing your ass again. "Always so big and brave in the beginning," his left hand traveled up your spine, tracing its path to the base of your neck. "But by the time I'm done with you, when I have you begging and shaking and crying for me, you always remember who's in charge."

The hand at the base of your neck grasped the hair there, yanking your head up and back so he could whisper into your ear. "You remember your safeword, mi amor?" he asked, checking in on you before actually starting anything.

"Yes, sir" you managed, speaking for the first time since you'd first seen him at the foot of the bed. He nodded, placing a kiss to your temple before shoving your head back down into the sheets.

Returning his left hand to the small of your back, while his right groped your ass, Carlos' voice resumed its darker timbre. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of punishment you deserve for your little stunt over the phone." The thought of Carlos stewing in anger and lust for hours and hours making you shiver. "But that was before I came home to find you, knuckles deep in this needy little hole," he lets his fingers brush just barely against your entrance before retreating. "Same rules as usual, princesa: you count out loud for me, and if you miss one, we start over. You tell me when you're close, and if you come without my permission, we start over. Understood?"

Your nod earned you a sharp pinch on your cheek from where his hand had been tracing circles. "Yes, sir," you breathed out quickly, knowing by now what he was looking for.

"Good." With one final, gentle swipe of his hand, you feel his right hand leave your body, tensing in its absence. You feel its impact land, firmly, but not too harshly - yet.

"One," you breathe out, head tilted to the side to ensure he hears you clearly. He lands another spank. "Two." Harsher this time. "Three." Despite bracing yourself, you still flinch with every smack, body jolting as the sound echoes in the otherwise silent room. "Four." Your voice has already grown weaker, breathier. Heat rises where the blood has rushed to your stinging skin, already sensitive. "Five," he lands the next slap as you're inhaling to brace yourself, speeding up suddenly. "S-six, ah." Without meaning to, you squirm in his lap, earning you another quick slap that shocks a gasp out of you.

"Stop moving, princesa, or I will tie you down and make you take everything I give you," he grits out. "Got it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"And what number was that?"

For a brief moment, your mind scrambles, distracted and overwhelmed. "S-seven?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer, and you cringe at the uncertainty of your own voice.

"You sure?" his hand stills on your ass, making your panic grow. But you can hear the lilt of his voice, can tell that he's trying to throw you off.

"Yes, sir," you answer, more confident this time.

"Good girl," he praises, but it's short lived, as another smack lands.

"Eight." The spanks are harder than they initially were, building in intensity, your skin aflame from his rough touch. "Nine." You're doing your best not to wriggle, hands clenched in the sheets like you're fighting yourself to stay put, but that doesn't stop the shakes wracking through your body. "Ten." Relief floods your body, knowing that, on a normal day, this is where Carlos stops. At this point he's gotten you drenched, arousal slicking your thighs, and part of you wonders if you've left a damp spot on his trousers. That little relief goes out the window when you feel his hand against you again, landing two harsh spanks in quick succession. "Eleven," you heave, "twelve."

The sound of Carlos' belt clinking as he removes it makes you freeze. "Carlos?" you question, voice small and unsure.

"I told you, cariño, the punishment I had planned for you at first was before I found you touching yourself, again." His left hand wraps around the front of your throat, bringing your torso up so he can speak directly into your ear once again. "The punishment needs to fit the crime, and you've been very, very bad," he coos, grazing your ass ever so slightly with the belt in his right hand. You shiver. "I'm gonna give you two with this, and then we're done with the spanking, alright, cariño?"

After a moment, you nod, and the slight tick of a pressure increase on your throat reminds you to speak your answer. "O-okay."

The leather of his belt drags against your inflamed flesh, before he pulls his hand back. He allows your head to return to the bed, resting it back against the sheets, and you hear him wrapping the belt around his right hand.

When the belt cracks against your ass, you cry out, body lurching forward, nearly leaping out of Carlos' lap before he grabs you by the hip, holding you in place. "Thirteen," you whimper out, voice breaking. Carlos' free hand rubs soothing circles against your hip, calming you down from the jolt of the impact. "Fuck, fourteen." Your breathing has gone ragged, chest heaving in an uneven, staccato pattern. You feel Carlos throwing your body around again, tossing you onto your back on the bed as you try to catch your breath.

He stands over you again, a predatory glint in his eyes, not giving you time to recover before sliding a finger straight inside of you. It punches the air out of you, your moan silent without air in your lungs to put any sound into it. Carlos chooses a rapid pace, aided by how wet you've become, and the squelch of him pressing a second digit into you is the most obscene sound you've ever heard.

"God, you look so fucking good like this, princesa. Shaking around my fingers," he curls them, hard, to make his point, grinning at the way your body reacts to the touch. "Such a desperate little slut, aren't you? My desperate little slut."

The sting of his palm landing on your inner thigh forces your eyes open. "Yes, sir - oh, fuck- only for you," you squeak out. You realize with a start that there are tears forming in your eyes, most likely from your punishment, though the way your building pleasure mixes with the pain only intensifies the feeling. The tension in your belly goes taught as Carlos' thumb begins drawing circles on your clit, arching into his touch. Everything you're feeling is so overwhelming, you almost forget yourself. "C-close, sir, I'm - ah - close."

"Yeah? You wanna come, cariño?" His eyes glint at the sound of your pleas, incoherent as they may be. "Too bad," he growls, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the loss of contact, earning you another light smack to your inner thigh. "Don't be greedy, amor."

"I - I'm sorry, sir," you sob out, chest heaving for breath.

Rough hands grip you by the waist and harshly yank you to the edge of the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and letting your legs hang off the bed, toes just barely skimming the ground. Carlos traces patterns on the red, raw skin of your ass, and you flinch away from the feeling without meaning to. In response, Carlos digs his hand into the hair at the base of your neck, tugging you up to speak directly into your ear.

"I'm going to fuck you now, cariño, and you're going to take everything I give you, or you don't get to come, got it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"You going to take it like a good girl, princesa?"

"Yes, sir, yes, whatever you want, I'll be good," you fought to keep the needy edge out of your voice, not wanting to sound too demanding of him.

"Good girl," Carlos left a series of searing kisses down your neck, trailing onto your shoulder and down your back as he let you fall back down onto the bed. He hadn't even fucked you yet and you had already gone completely limp, unable to hold up your own body weight.

A large, warm hand splays across your lower back as his lips reach it, touch gentle but firm as he holds you to the bed, standing to his full height again as he yanks his trousers and boxers down just enough to pull himself out.

"Look so beautiful like this, princesa, such a pretty little slut for me," Carlos rasps out, voice low and gravelly, and you can tell just from the sound of it that he's stroking himself. Trying to make you squirm, testing to see if you'll whine at the lack of attention, or do that thing where you wiggle your ass at him to try to get him inside you. But at least for the time being, you're done misbehaving. You need him too badly to risk it being taken away again.

"Just for you, sir. Only you," you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear so he doesn't think you're demanding anything, throwing a glance over your shoulder that you hope strikes the right balance between obedience and seduction.

Based on the way his eyes darken and the hand spread on your back presses done just the tiniest bit more firmly, you're pretty sure you succeeded.

You know you did when he starts to slide into you, eyes staying on yours as both of his hands land on your waist. The feeling of him pushing into you, on top of the thought of just how much of you his hands manage to cover, has your head dropping back down onto the bed with a moan.

Carlos' mouth tilts up in a grin at how quickly you fold, how immediately you become pliant once his dick is in you. Hell, he hasn't even bottomed out yet, and you're already squirming and whining and clawing at the sheets. "Taking me so well, princesa," he coos, just as he snaps his hips flush with yours, filling you up the last few inches suddenly. The combination of him completely filling you, and the praise makes your head spin, and he knows it. It's why he knows to hold back the praise, to mix it in with the degradation, because that makes it all the more potent when he finally gives it. When you finally earn it. Plus, you get off on disobeying him too much for him to not make you work for it - otherwise, you'd have turned into a little monster by now. The thought makes him grin further to himself, thinking that at least you're his little monster.

He knows your body too well. Carlos can tell from the way you're squirming that you're beyond desperate for him to move, but that you're trying even more desperately to be good for him, to hold still, to take what he gives you and not demand anything more. Kisses trail down your back and shoulders, and even though you can feel the smile on his lips, you don't have the mental strength to process what it means right now. Carlos likes it when you have to try like this, likes that he can do this to you, can make you this needy for him, and that despite all of that, your need to please him, to be good for him, overrides your own desire for pleasure. For all of your talk and pretended disobedience, the moment he's in you, you submit to him completely. When he thinks about it too hard, it makes his cock throb inside you.

The sound of your whimpers draws Carlos back out of his thoughts, the noises escaping despite your best efforts. "Being a good little slut now that you're full of my cock, huh? Fuck, princesa, I love those pathetic little noises you make." He bends over you again to speak directly into your ear, and you whine at the way it makes him shift inside you. "I want you to let me hear every single one, cariño. Don't hold back on me, no?"

"I w-won't, sir. I won't, promise," you babble. At this point, you were willing to say damn near anything as long as it meant he would start moving.

"Good girl," he purrs, staying bent over you as he slowly pulls out until just the head of his cock remains inside you. Again, he pauses there for a moment, relishing the way you whimpered as he moved. Then, after he's had his fill of making you squirm in need, he thrusts back in, hard. It knocks the breath out of you, forcing a sharp cry from your mouth at the sudden and harsh way he fills you back up. He continues the pace like that, pulling out slow and thrusting back in with as much force as he can, hips slapping your already raw and sensitive ass when they meet yours.

You keep your promise to Carlos, letting every little sound he elicits from you out unabashedly, your small ah-ah's turning almost into shouts each time his hips are flush with yours. His hot breath on your neck and his broad, firm chest pressed to your back make it impossible to think about anything other than Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. The way his body cages yours in while he manhandles you, pulling your hips to where he wants them, has your moans ripping out of your chest with even more force. As Carlos starts to snap his hips faster, not pulling out all the way in favor of increasing his pace, each thrust punches noises out of you, becoming increasingly embarrassing the more worked up he gets you.

"Fuuuck, that's it, cariño, let me hear you, let me hear how good I make you feel," he encourages, one hand snaking into the hair at the base of your skull to force your face out from its hiding place in the bedsheets. "Wanna hear how much you like it when I fuck you like this. You like this, princesa? You like taking my cock like a good little slut?"

You can only whine desperately, nodding as best you can with Carlos' grip on your hair tightening. "Yeah? Say it, then, princesa. Tell me how much you love taking my cock."

It takes you a moment to process his words, mind feeling hazy from the lust and from returning to the brink of your orgasm, and the delay has Carlos fucking into you just the slightest bit harsher. "Fuck! I - I like it! I love t-taking your cock, sir, love b-being your s-slut, please," you gasp out the last word, the air forced from your lungs by the combination of the force of his thrusts and his other hand landing on your clit.

"Please what? Use your words, princesa." At first, the only response he gets is your high-pitched squeal as his fingers press harsh circles into your clit. "Come on, cariño, you can do it, use your words and tell me what my little slut wants."

"P-please, sir, please let me come, please sir, please," you babble, words becoming incoherent shortly after, devolving into whimpers and keens that resemble words like please and sir over and over again.

"Aw, look at you, cariño, using your words and asking so sweetly," he coos, causing your face to flush with heat even further at the mixture of praising and teasing words. "Alright, princesa, you can come. Come all over my cock for me, yeah? Come all over me so I can fill you up, wanna feel you clenching around me when I come in you," Carlos begins to ramble. Getting closer and closer, he tips over the edge as you come around him, walls squeezing tight around his pulsating cock as it throbs in you, marking you from the inside out.

Carlos doesn't pull out right away, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, head resting between your shoulder blades as he gropes your ass. Occasionally, he squeezes particularly hard, and you whimper from the sensitivity, drawing a deep chuckle out of him that reverberates against the bare skin of your back. Carlos begins leaving kisses down the line of your spine, slowly drawing out of you.

Your body sags even further into the bed, completely spent, and you jolt away from him when you feel two large fingers at your entrance. With his other hand, Carlos grips your hip, holding you in place, as he watches his cum drip out of you, slowly pushing it back in with his fingers. "Can't let this go to waste, cariño. Got to make sure you remember who's in charge, no?"

You nod weakly, no energy or desire left to fight him (for now). Once Carlos is satisfied with his reminder to you, he rises, gently pulling you off of the bed and into his arms. He scoops you up easily, cradling you as he walks to the bathroom and gets the water running, kissing your head softly and murmuring praise as he sits on the edge of the tub, holding you to him tightly. Your body curls into the warmth of him, allowing yourself to be cared for since you're not even sure you could stand on your own right now. He says something about not falling sleep just yet, and then he's lifting you into the bath, smiling fondly at the pout you throw his way when he stops holding you. "Don't worry, cariño, I'm not going anywhere," Carlos hums, slipping in behind you and pulling you to his chest. "I'm staying right here."

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

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

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

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

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

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

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

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

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

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@bcon24

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@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

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@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

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@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@abaker74

@heli991113

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@desert-fern

[nox140497]

A Midnight Crisis

Prompt: No

Request: No

Summery: Colby has a panic attack late one night.

Prompt Number: None

Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

Colby shut his laptop with more force than intended and rubbed his tired eyes. It was past 2am, and he was no closer to finishing the script for his next video.

Glancing around the dimly lit editing room, stacks of notes and camera equipment stared back at him, each item representing hours of work ahead. The never-ending to-do list seemed to stretch into infinity as pressure and perfectionism gnawed away at his sanity.

A tapping at the door pulled Colby from his spiraling thoughts. "Sweetheart, come to bed," said his girlfriend Y/N softly. "You've been at it for hours."

Colby nodded wearily and followed her downstairs. As they curled up under the blankets, Y/N gently stroked his damp hair. "What's keeping you up?" she asked softly.

Colby took a shaky breath. "I just feel so behind. If I don't post at least twice a week, the algorithm will bury me. And the comments..." His voice cracked. "People are always criticising - the lighting, my jokes, who I film with, everything. I try so hard, but it's never enough."

Y/N pulled him closer. "You work like three men already. No one achieves perfection, at least of all in a few hours each time."

Colby knew she was right, but the churning anxiety refused to subside. What if his viewers lost interest? Sponsors pulled funding? It had happened to bigger creators - he wasn't immune.

"I'll never sleep at this rate," he sighed. Reluctantly climbing out of bed, Colby headed back to his prison of screens and cables. Y/N followed, concern etched on her face.

Back in the office, Colby began rewriting his script frantically, deleting and retyping sentences over and over as familiar panic started clawing its way up his throat. What if he picked the wrong topic? Messed up the comedic timing? He typed so fast his hands began to cramp.

A stabbing pain in his chest made Colby gasp for air. Black spots danced before his eyes as the walls closed in, trapping him under the crushing expectation to perform.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. "Colby, you need to breathe," urged Y/N calmly. She took his trembling hand and placed it on her chest. "In and out, slowly. I've got you."

Colby fought to match her even breaths as crushing anxiety morphed into racking sobs. "I'm losing control," he cried into Y/N's shoulder. "What if I can't do this anymore?"

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Y/N gently. "Come, let's get some air."

Walking unsteadily through the silent house, Colby slowly began to regain control of his breathing in the cool night. Y/N never let go of his hand, grounding him through the lingering panic.

On the back porch, they sat close together, watching the stars. An uneasy silence stretched between them as Colby gathered the courage to speak.

"I'm scared this will break me," he admitted shakily. "I pour everything into videos only to be constantly worried if it's decent enough. It's not making me happy anymore - it's destroying me." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N gently wiped it away and took his face in her hands. "You are so much more than the metrics or comments say. I see how talented and kind you are every day. This channel was supposed to be fun, so please don't let it ruin your health or us."

Her earnest eyes conveyed nothing but compassion. All the resentful feelings Colby harbored towards himself began to melt away under Y/N's unconditional love and support.

As the first light of dawn broke over the trees, Colby finally felt some of the crushing weight lift. Exhausted but calmer, he leaned into Y/N's shoulder, grateful beyond words that she saw his true worth, not defined by meaningless views or numbers on a screen. This was only the beginning of getting his life back on track, but with her by his side, Colby believed things could get better.

A week had passed since Colby's panic attack, and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. Taking time completely away from YouTube at Y/N's suggestion had brought unexpected relief.

Without daily stresses to focus on, Colby rediscovered long-lost interests like photography and gardening. He spent afternoons going for hikes with Y/N, marvelling at nature's beauty through fresh eyes. Their home filled with snapshot memories from each outing, captured joyfully on film.

With structure and rest, Colby's anxiety gradually released its grip. For the first time in months he slept well, free from dreams about botched collabs or unkind comments. Y/N watched him awaken each day looking more energised, reminding her gently of the importance to maintain this lifestyle.

One sunny afternoon found Colby immersed in tending roses along the fence border. As he trimmed away wilted blooms, flashes of memories surfaced - cramming scripts at 3am, editing well into dawn, forgetting to eat or take breaks. Exhausted, sore hands moved on auto-pilot to create a never-ending stream of content.

His downward spiral had been gradual yet forceful, spurred on by perfectionism and fear of slipping in the algorithm. But Y/N's care dragged Colby kicking and screaming from that dark routine, revealing how lonely the path of overwork had become. A cold shudder passed over him at the realisation of how close he came to burning out completely.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Colby's gaze fell upon Y/N watching tenderly from the porch. Her bright smile warmed his soul, reminding him that life held more meaningful things than views or trends. Carrying the gardening tools inside, Colby collapsed on the couch beside her with a happy sigh.

"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a cool drink. Colby nodded gratefully. "I'm amazed at the difference a week makes. Things seem clearer now."

He stretched comfortably, thoughts drifting back over stressful nights locked away working endlessly to please abstract metrics, while neglecting real connection. That loneliness had almost swallowed him whole.

"Thank you for pulling me back from the edge," Colby told Y/N earnestly, taking her hands. "I lost sight of what really matters, but you've given me a new perspective."

Y/N leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm just glad to have you here, happy and healthy. Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?" Smiling, Colby promised to always communicate how he felt from now on, never bottle things up until breaking point.

That evening, the couple discussed potential strategies for Colby to maintain wellbeing going forward. Setting stricter schedules with enforced breaks, delegating tasks, limiting social media use - simple changes aimed at sustainably managing pressure and burnout prevention.

Colby knew regaining control would take diligent effort. But with Y/N by his side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Her patience and reassurance instilled a calm confidence in his ability to return renewed, without sacrificing mental wellness. The following week, Colby finally felt ready to resume video making.

Armed with new perspective and healthier habits, Colby crafted a short update video explaining his break to concerned viewers. Speaking candidly about mental health awareness and balance, he saw more supportive comments roll in than ever before. The positive reinforcement served to cement Colby's resolution to prioritise fulfillment through diverse passions instead of basing self-worth on one metric's fluctuations alone.

Weeks turned to months of sustainable creativity. True to his word, Colby kept communication lines open with Y/N, never hesitating to discuss feelings or setbacks. With her encouragement he joined local photography groups and took on freelance opportunities to spread creative wings beyond YouTube alone.

Most importantly, Colby learned to be kind to himself through both triumphs and failures. Looking back on a time when anxiety nearly took control of his life, he was profoundly grateful for Y/N's unconditional love and support. It was this care that gave him strength to overcome adversity and regain balance, emerging healthier and happier than ever before.

[walesfootball]

She - Alexia Putellas x Reader (PART 1)

To celebrate me going to see Harry Styles tonight I wanted to post this Alexia fic I've been writing. I kinda forgot that I'd written this so here ya go! I'll try to get the next parts out quick (if you like it), haven't planned where it's going but we shall see. Let me know what you think!

You and Alexia have been friends for a few years. You’d met when you worked a summer job in Barcelona’s kit department. You’d get everyone’s kit ready and clean everything from their kits, training kits, and their boots. The both of you started talking one day, and have been close friends ever since.

You were sat sprawled out on Alexia’s sofa, as the latter was in the kitchen making the both of you a drink. All week, Alexia seemed stressed out, which was unlike her. You had asked her every day if she was okay, but nothing back. A simple ‘fine’ or ‘of course’ and she’d change the subject. You knew there wasn’t much you could do when Alexia got like this. Just to leave her alone and she’d open up when she’s ready. That didn’t help your frustration.

Alexia came into the living room, putting the drinks on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and grabbed your legs to sit them on top of her lap.

“Um… I’ve been wanting to ask, but… I don’t know how to say it properly.” Alexia started. You propped up on your elbows, eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“What is it?” You impatiently said.

“You see. It’s complicated.”

You waited for her to continue, but Alexia said nothing. She played with her fingers, while her eyes were fixed on the drinks on the coffee table.

“Hey, look at me,” You tapped her gently on her forearm to get her attention, “whatever it is, however complicated it may be, everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. And you’re really scaring me.”

Alexia finally looked towards you, now propped up on your hands to get a better look at Alexia’s face.

“I have a wedding to go to next week.”

“Is that it?”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Alexia joked, chuckling a little at your impatience.

“Sorry, sorry. So you’ve been invited to a wedding. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But… I might’ve told my mother that I have a date to go with me.”

“You didn’t tell me you’ve been dating someone!” You said, a little hurt that Alexia would keep something like this from you.

“That’s the thing… I haven’t. But I told my mother I have because she says it’s been too long since I’ve found someone.”

You looked at Alexia’s nervous disposition. It’s fair to say that over the past few years that you’ve known each other, you had developed some feelings for Alexia. Ingrid always told you to tell Alexia how you felt. You’d made good friends with the Norwegian while working at the kit department in Barcelona too. She was the one who coaxed the crush out of you, telling you she had a feeling it was Alexia with the way you'd blushed when Alexia even looked at you.

To think Alexia was dating someone else without telling you broke your heart. But losing Alexia as a friend because you couldn’t control how you felt, now that hurt more. So you’d never told her.

“Okay, so you’re looking for a date? How about you ask Patri?”

“They’ve met Patri and know she’s dating someone else.”

“Alright, well how about Jenni?”

“Why would I ask my ex to be my fake girlfriend to a wedding?” Alexia asks incredulously.

“I mean, it would be kinda believable. They’ll just think you got back together.”

“She’s in Mexico. And I’m not asking Jenni!”

“What about-?” You were stopped in your tracks as a pillow crashed into your face.

“I was going to ask you!”

“What? Really?” This shocked you. ‘Fuck! She likes me too,’ you thought! 'Yes! I don’t need to say anything.’

“Well, my family have never met you. You know me very well. I’ll just say we’ve been dating for a while, but I wanted to make sure it was serious,” You realised what Alexia was saying. She wanted to pretend you were dating, “I can’t find someone in a week to go with me to a wedding. And my family knows the team.”

“This is absolutely insane, you know that right? I’m a really bad liar, Ale. I can’t pull this off!” You had always been the worst liar, your anxiety crept up and the truth needed to be said.

“I know but you’re the only one I trust to do this! Por favor, Y/N. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“Have you tried maybe being honest?” You knew it sounded harsh, but you didn’t think acting like a couple and everyone else thinking you were a couple was a good idea, especially when you fancied the pants off Alexia. Who wouldn’t? Alexia is the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you go to sleep. You’re constantly thinking of what Alexia is doing if she’s eaten, if she’s okay. All of the cliches to do with liking and loving someone, you’ve been there.

“I can’t be honest with my family now, they think I’m really happy with this girl! The only person in my life who I can do this with is you.” Alexia pleaded with you. You looked at her for a few seconds, thinking about how bad of an idea this was. You then saw the look of desperation in her eyes and knew you had to do it.

“Well, aren’t you in luck that I’m available next week?” Alexia pounced on you, her arms around your neck and her legs on either side of your body. You held her back with your arms around her waist, nervously.

Alexia pulled back to look at you, with a coy smile on her face, “Gracias. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Anytime. So who’s wedding is it?”

———

Over the next week, you and Alexia went shopping for new outfits for Alexia’s cousin Maria’s wedding. Alexia always found a way of thanking you for going with her as a date. This never settled your nerves.

“I just don’t know what to do, or how to act. I can barely talk without sounding like an idiot.”

“You’re overthinking this. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just told her?” You looked at Ingrid in disgust. This was the irony of being a bad liar, you kept her biggest secret from one of her best friends, and you don’t know how.

You and Ingrid had met up in a nearby cafe in Barcelona. It was mainly Ingrid laughing at your inevitable breakdown about going to a wedding with your crush and having to act like a couple.

“Yeah good idea, Ingrid. Hi Ale, for the last year now I’ve realised I’ve got a fat crush on you and I would love to do couple-y things with you, but I’ve been too much of a pussy to tell you and- oh, damn, okay, you don’t want to be my friend anymore because you don’t see me in that way. Oh no, I’ve lost my best friend. I’m such an idiot. I could’ve just avoided all of that by not telling her. The end.”

Ingrid sat on the opposite side of the table, with her hand holding the right side of her face, smiling at this massive idiot in front of her, “You’re so annoying sometimes.”

“Love isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. It’s very fucking difficult, Ingrid.”

“I know, but I have a feeling she likes you too.”

“You have a feeling? You know, I’m pretty sure Adolf Hitler had a feeling things would work out for him in World War 2, but look what happened there.”

“I can’t believe you just compared me to Hitler. But! My point is, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she always keeps her eye on you at parties because she knows you don’t like big crowds, the way she’s always at your house or you're at hers, the way she ran after training ended because she didn’t want to be late to meet up with you. The list is endless.”

You stared at Ingrid, a look of interest yet still undecided. “A lot of friends do that though.”

“Do they?! You were 10 minutes late meeting up with me.” Ingrid countered your argument.

“I was… on the phone with Ale,” Ingrid looked at you in an ‘I-told-you-so’ way, “No! You can’t do that! I can’t tell her! This is a massive deal for her to turn up to this wedding with a date on her arm, and I’m lucky enough to pretend to be her date. I would love for it to be more, but I am not ready to lose Alexia. I can’t. I don’t want to ruin things in case she only sees me as a friend. And I hear you, she might like me too. But what if she doesn’t? I care for her too much to let her down.”

“Okay. But after you come back from this wedding, and you tell me you’re dating, I can’t wait to say I told you so.” Ingrid leaned back in her chair, with her arms and legs crossed, trying to prove a point.

“Alright, whatever.” You gave up trying to plead your case.

———

You and Alexia were out for dinner a day before meeting Alexia’s family. Alexia wanted to introduce you to her sister, Alba, and her mother, Eli, before the wedding ceremony. Both girls were nervous about the occasion; not just about you meeting Alexia’s family for the first time, but about acting and going as a couple.

“So what are the rules exactly? How are we going to make this believable?” You asked, as you took a sip of the water and placed it back down on the table.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” Alexia shrugged.

“Well, I guess we hold hands and stuff?” You said in an unsure tone, almost scared to bring some things up.

“It shouldn’t be too hard. We hug all the time and hold hands. We’ve shared the same bed a lot.”

“What about… kissing? That’s what couples do, right? They kiss. Do we… you know? Do that?”

“I think. Couples kiss, sí?” Alexia nervously played with the food on her plate, not wanting to look up at the judgment in your eyes.

If Alexia did look up at that moment, she would’ve seen a pair of eyes just as nervous as hers. If not more. Eyes that portray the amount of love you felt for this woman, and how much you wanted this to go right for Alexia, even if it meant ignoring your strong feelings.

“Have you told your mum about me?” You asked, curious to know what the woman you've heard so much about thinks of Alexia’s new girlfriend.

“Sí, I told her yesterday I’m taking you. She can’t wait to meet you.”

Alexia had decided it was going to be you she was going to take to the wedding, even before she asked her friend. She wanted more than ever for you to agree to this, not only to get her mother off her back on dating but as a way of trying to pick up the courage to tell you that she’s liked you ever since she saw you folding up her training kit. Alexia will never forget the day you met. Y/N folding everyone’s kit while singing along to ‘Sign Of The Times' by Harry Styles… very loudly. Alexia had stopped in the door as soon as she heard the massive crescendo of a voice, filling up the room as if an audience was watching. Your earphones clearly on full blast. Alexia stood there with a smile on her face, waiting until the song had finished. After a pause, the Spaniard thought it was safe to enter the room to ask you a question about her kit. Until you had started singing another Harry Styles song, ‘Carolina’, very loudly again. Clearly a massive Harry Styles fan, a thought she had while watching you sing and dance. She remembers you jumping in surprise as you turned around to find an entertained look on the other girl’s face and then bursting out laughing. And the rest, as they say, is history.

“Ale, are you sure you want to do this? If it’s too much-”

“It’s not too much! I’m just nervous about everything.” Alexia had turned pale at the thought of lying to her mum and sister, people who she too considers her best friends. Alexia had always been very close to her family, but her mum wanted to see her happy with someone.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’ll all work out. We’ll meet your family, go to the wedding, and come back. It’s done.” You explained, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world, even if in both your minds it was the hardest.

“You make it sound so easy. I know they’ll love you as much as I do, it’ll be hard for anyone to dislike you.”

You blushed, masking it by taking a sip of your drink. Alexia saw the way she had affected you, and smiled down at her feet, proud of herself.

———

The next morning, Alexia drove the both of you to her mum’s house. After dinner last night, she felt ready for the day ahead. The both of you knew each other very well, how could this go wrong? You didn’t sleep at all after dinner on the other hand. You thought you’d do something wrong or say the wrong thing. Something had to go wrong during your time of fake dating. Something!

As the car stopped in front of the house, Alexia grabbed your hand which was sitting in your own lap, nervously fidgeting with the hole in your jeans.

“You’re okay. I’m here. I won’t leave your side.”

You nodded, Alexia giving you the confidence to open the door and get your and Alexia’s bags from the boot. Alexia opens the door of her childhood home, her sister almost sprinting out to greet her.

“Lexia! Where is she? Where is this girl you’ve been hiding from us?!” Alexia went red from the attention as Alba shook her with annoyance at not having met her new girlfriend.

“Nice to see you too. She’s getting the bags.” Alexia smiled at her sister, almost excited at the way Alba called you her girlfriend.

“Charming. I like it.”

You rounded the car with two bags in your hands, smiling at the siblings. Your cheeks flushed from the heat.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Alba. We’ve heard so much about you!” Alba hugged you straight away, not giving you a second to breathe as the bags dropped to the floor in surprise.

Alexia’s mother was next to come through the door. “Come in! My name is Eli, Alexia talks about you all the time!”

“She does?”

“We’ve only just found out you were her girlfriend this whole time!”

Alexia interrupted, seeing the scared look on your face of disappointing your ‘girlfriends’ mother almost instantly, “No, we’ve been dating for a little over 8 months, mama. I didn’t tell you about her sooner because I didn’t want to mess anything up with her.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Alexia being so serious about a girl before. Not even Jenni.” Her mother said before returning back to the house with a spatula in her hand.

Alexia put her face in her hands, horrified her mum said that. You laughed as you pulled Alexia’s wrists down gently to see her flushed cheeks. Alexia found a taunting smile on your face.

“Your mum’s really cool.”

“You would say that. She likes to make fun of me like you do.”

You laughed at the teasing tone you were given. You grabbed the bags from the floor and winked at Alexia, almost to say ‘You’re doing good’. Alexia felt her shoulders drop as the nervousness seeped away bit by bit.

Alba watched the both of you the whole time. The eye contact, the lingering touches, and the joy on her sister’s face when you teased her. You walked through the door and placed the bags in the living room.

Alba pulled Alexia back, “I like her already.”

They both continued on into the house with Alexia biting her lip. Of course, they’d like her best friend, you were perfect, Alexia thought.

———

The evening was spent around the dining table, the four of you chatting, mainly about this new relationship they’d only found out about a few days ago.

“So who made the first move? Tell me everything!” Alba excitedly said.

You and Alexia looked at each other straight away. You didn’t talk about this. You both chuckled awkwardly to see who would make the first move.

“Well…” You started, with an unsure smile on your face, another awkward laugh escaping from your mouth as you looked toward Alexia again.

“You’re better at telling this story, mi amor.” Alexia challenged, knowing this would infuriate you.

“Am I?” You said sarcastically.

“Sí. She loves telling this story.” Alexia smiled devilishly, keeping her laughter in. This is fun, she thought.

“Well… we got really drunk one night. Just the two of us. And Alexia asked me to dance. She knows how much I love Harry Styles, so we danced to ‘Sweet Creature’. And after the song finished, she told me she liked me more than a friend and I felt the same way too. And that’s that.” You smiled at how well you came up with that story. If in doubt turn to Harry Styles, it’s always been your life motto.

“That’s really cute!” Alba cheesed.

“And you’ve been together for 8 months? How did you keep that from us?” Eli said.

“I told you, mama. Y/N means a lot to me and I didn’t want to say something too early and we break up.”

Alba and Eli were beaming toward the both of you. You reached down for Alexia’s hand in her lap and intertwined your fingers to relax her, offering a small smile. Alexia looked over and gave you a grateful smile. It was only the both of you in the room when you looked at each other.

“You two are so cute! When is your wedding?!” Alba exclaimed.

You all laughed as you finished their dinner.

———

As night fell, Alexia took you up to the bedroom. The double bed waiting for you, along with an en suite.

“This is nice. Beautiful view of the garden too.” You said, as you put the bags down on the bed and made your way to the window.

“There’s only one bed, so we’ll have to share. Is that okay?” Alexia said nervously.

“Like you said, we’ve shared a bed loads of times before. It’s just that your mum and sister will probably think we’re having sex.”

Alexia laughed nervously, “Thank you for this. I mean it.”

“You’ve said thank you about a million times. And I always tell you that it’s okay. I don’t mind. Your family is lovely.”

“Were we believable, you think?”

“Did you hear my story about how we got together? I’d say that was pretty believable.”

“That actually happened. Just without the kissing part.”

“What can I say? I’m the best.” You exclaimed as you climbed onto the bed with your arms raised above your head to prove a point.

“Get down from there. You’ll hurt yourself.” Alexia laughed as she looked up with wonder in her eyes.

“Admit that I’m the best. And then I’ll get down.”

“No. I’m not giving you that satisfaction.”

“But it’s true. What did you call me before? In Spanish? A ‘mi amor’? Whatever that is, I’m your that.”

“You don’t know what it means?” Alexia crossed her arms.

“I don’t speak Spanish, you know this. Only the basics. I speak enough to get some food in me.”

“You are the worst. Not the best.”

It was your turn to cross your arms, trying to feign annoyance. Alexia smiled up at you once more.

“Come down, amor.”

“Help me down.”

Alexia holds onto your waist as you hold onto the Spaniard’s forearms for balance. Neither of you broke the eye contact that was being held at this moment. As you stepped down in front of Alexia you felt nervous. Alexia looks deep into your eyes, biting her bottom lip to stop her from doing anything stupid. You look up at the slightly taller girl, eyeing her lovingly, and look back down as you felt a blush creeping up your neck and in your cheeks.

Alexia leans her forehead on your left shoulder, burying her face in your neck. Alexia chuckles suddenly, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Neither can I.” You tucked herself in Alexia’s neck too, a place which always brought comfort to you whatever you were feeling. You began playing with the baby hairs, poking out from Alexia’s ponytail, calming her down instantly. Alexia’s arms circle around your waist in an effort to bring you closer, burying her face deeper into the crook of your neck, if that was even possible.

“Come on, I’m tired. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” You said, pulling away from Alexia, despite the comfort.