#my mom found something she really wanted that she’s been looking for parts to make for months now on freecycle down the street from us

[eatyourdamnpears]

siblings stop being selfish challenge

[ambrosiagourmet]

I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.

Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.

When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.

So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.

Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus

So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...

to Laios':

-

There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.

Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."

And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!

Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.

2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire

I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.

For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:

And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:

It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.

In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...

Izutsumi

Kabru

and Mithrun

Hell, we even get it for the demon!

It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.

The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.

With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.

The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?

Something to consider as we look at the next point...

3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too

This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.

Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.

(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)

But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.

Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.

-

So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.

As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.

But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.

First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.

Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.

And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.

He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.

Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.

I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.

Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.

The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".

He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.

Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.

After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:

A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...

He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.

It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.

It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.

He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.

But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.

We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.

The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.

The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.

Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.

And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.

This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.

And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.

It's about how they are wrong.

[ckret2]

So a while ago some friends were talking about fans who claim the Same Coin theory is canon. And I made the mistake of saying:

Do you know who also has tons in common with Bill? Mabel. Yet nobody claims Bill reincarnated as Mabel. …wait now I want a "same coin but it's Mabel" AU. Funniest Bill reincarnation option. The all-seeing arsonist is making macaroni glitter art. The omnipotent tyrant is crying because a unicorn called her a bad person.

And then I overthought it for two months.

So—AU where after death, Bill's soul shoots 13 years into the past and reincarnates as Mabel. I'll call it ✨ Sparkly Coin AU ✨

Don't leave yet. Lemme show you why it works. Behold the eerie amount of parallels in their personalities, dialogue, behavior, mannerisms, tastes...

I could have kept going but my attention span ran out. All right, we all on board now? Convinced we could segue from one personality into the other? Great. Now here's why you should be interested: the juicy post-Weirdmageddon angst potential.

As long as a small fringe of the fandom still thinks Weirdmageddon is Mabel's fault, why not amp that up x100 and have some fun with it?

Is everyone sold now? Great. Let's get into the details. I've got 8 more pieces of art under the read more.

So the AU starts the instant Bill dies. Thanks to invoking his deal with the Axolotl—one way to absolve his crime, a different form, a different time—the Axolotl gives him a new shape and shoots him thirteen years into the past. Apparently, the Axolotl thought it would be very funny to stick Bill in the family that defeated him.

Which probably made for a jarring transition.

(It's fine, she's like 10 minutes old, she probably can't even tell who she's looking at. Not being able to tell who she was looking at is what got her into this situation ayyyy)

When Dipper & Mabel come back from Gravity Falls complaining about this triangular jerk Bill, their parents mention that Dipper's name was nearly Bill. See, after they knew they were going to have a boy, one night their mom dreamed about a visitor—some kind of magic pink salamander??—calling her child "BILL." Then at the next sonogram they found out they were having twins, the girl must've been hidden at a weird angle the first time, and they wanted matching names, so they thought, Bill and Bell. But they didn't really like Bell; but eventually they stumbled on Mabel, so to keep the names matching they switched from Bill to Mason. Isn't that the darnedest thing?

(Of course, Mabel and Dipper assume Bill harassed their parents to try to trick them into naming a kid after him. To be a jerk.)

When Bill meets Mabel, he's unaware that she's his future self—Bill's notably bad at doing things like, say, double-checking to see whether he's going to die anytime soon—but like... he can tell something's up.

Naturally, before visiting Gravity Falls, there were echoes of who Mabel used to be—but nothing anyone would be able to identify without context. All her Bill-ish quirks either smoothed out with time (see: how between second grade and fourth grade Mabel went from being the "freak" to the popular girl in class), or else they were accepted by her family as Mabel-ish quirks.

After they meet (and kill) Bill, they have the context to understand some of Mabel's behaviors... and unfortunately, some of Mabel's latent Bill-ness starts surfacing after she's been directly exposed to her prior incarnation.

The part of the Pines family familiar with Bill thinks the worst case scenario is that maybe Bill's survived and is slowly possessing Mabel; but far more likely, they think this is just some weird way of trying to subconsciously process last summer. Mabel doesn't think she's being weird, you guys are being weird, stop giving her weird looks. They get attacked by one triangle and now she can't wear yellow or pick up macrame as a hobby??

(It's not all red flags and uncomfortable triangle imagery, though. When Stan asks her what she'd like as a gift for some important event, she shyly admits that she thinks she's starting to outgrow her plastic gem jewelry and maybe she's old enough to get her first piece of real gold jewelry, if that's not too expensive? And Stan's never been so proud of her. Thirteen years old and already thinking about buying gold!)

But of course, the real fun starts when Mabel finds out.

That's the face of a girl who's just discovered that she tortured her great uncle. Now imagine running into the brother she possessed.

But I've already spent a million words and thirteen images on this post. If enough folks are interested in the AU maybe I'll expand on it later. Let me know what y'all think.

[a-lexia11]

Loving in Barcelona (Meeting in Barcelona final part)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Words count: around 13k

Warning: angst,fluff,insecurities

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Note: Here it is, everyone—the final part of the series. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, thank you so much for all the positive comments; I truly appreciate it 🤍🫶

“I’m ready to start a relationship…with you,” she said, her voice steady but laced with deep emotion. Her eyes never wavered from mine as she continued, “I want us to be together, officially.”

As those words spilled from her lips, disbelief washed over me. I turned slowly towards her, locking eyes with her, trying to comprehend the reality of what she was saying. Could this really be happening?

She was smiling at me, that soft, tender smile that always made my heart skip a beat. Her eyes, full of warmth and adoration, seemed to sparkle as she looked at me.

In that moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of us, frozen in this perfect bubble of time.

“You…you want to be with me? Like, as your girlfriend?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud might shatter the magic of the moment.

I was utterly dumbfounded. Her words seemed too good to be true, like something out of a dream I never wanted to wake up from.

She smiled even wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and then she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against mine.

Her hand, warm and soft, cupped my cheek, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles on my skin.

“Sí, eso es exactamente lo que quiero” (Yes, that’s exactly what I want) she whispered, her breath mingling with mine.

Then, she pulled back slightly, just enough to place a tender kiss on my cheek, the warmth of her lips lingering on my skin like a sweet promise.

I opened my mouth, ready to say something—anything—to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, but before I could form the words, someone called out Alexia’s name.

We both turned our heads towards the sound of the voice. There, just a few feet away, were Jenni Hermoso and Irene Paredes, grinning from ear to ear and waving Alexia over for a picture.

Reluctantly, we pulled away from each other and stood up. She didn’t let go of my hand, though. Instead, she squeezed it gently and led me towards the stands, where her mom and sister were waiting, watching us with knowing smiles.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she said softly, her voice full of promise as she turned to face me again. “Te encontraré después” (I’ll find you after.)

Then, with the gentlest touch, she kissed me on the forehead, the gesture filled with so much affection that it made my heart swell.

And just like that, she walked away, leaving me standing there, dazed and utterly stunned.

I watched her retreating figure, my mind racing with the realization that she wanted to be with me—officially, just us, as girlfriends. It felt surreal, almost too incredible to believe.

But as the initial shock began to fade, I found myself grappling with the weight of what this meant. Did I want a relationship with her? The answer was a resounding yes. Of course, I did.

I’d been in love with her for what felt like forever, and the idea of being with her, truly and completely, was everything I’d ever wanted.

But as much as I wanted this—wanted her—I knew there were things we needed to talk about. We had to figure out how this was going to work, how we’d navigate this new chapter together.

And then there was Marina… That was a conversation that couldn’t be avoided.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. There would be time to figure everything out.

For now, all I knew was that I was in love with her, and she wanted to be with me. And that, in itself, was enough to make my heart soar.

Returning to Alba and Eli, with Alba giving me a smirk and a playful eyebrow wiggle, we decided it was time to head back to our hotel.

——

“¿Quieres una bebida?” (Do you want a drink?”) Alba practically shouted into my ear, her voice barely cutting through the loud, celebratory noise of the bar.

We were all out celebrating Spain’s big win, and the energy in the place was electric.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please!) I shouted back, making sure my voice was loud enough for her to hear me over the music and chatter. The last thing I needed tonight was alcohol.

Alba gave me a quick nod, her expression a mix of surprise and understanding, and then I watched as she made her way through the crowd towards the bar.

As I stood there, the reality of tomorrow’s journey began to sink in. I was leaving for New York in the morning, and the thought of waking up hungover was definitely not appealing.

I wanted to spend a few days with my parents before heading back to Barcelona. With summer vacation winding down and school starting soon, this was my last chance to enjoy some time with them before things got busy again.

Alba returned a few moments later, balancing our drinks in her hands with a playful grin. I thanked her and took a sip, the coolness of the drink offering a brief reprieve from the heat of the packed bar.

The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter, music, and the joy of celebration after Spain’s big win.

After a while, Alba was fully immersed in the night, dancing her heart out with Alexia’s friends on the dance floor.

Meanwhile, I found myself sitting alone, taking a break. I had joined them earlier, but after dancing for what felt like hours, my feet were aching, and fatigue was beginning to set in.

The bar was still buzzing with energy, but I was starting to feel the weight of the day catching up to me. I glanced at my watch and noticed how late it was getting.

Alexia’s mom and uncle had already left for the hotel about an hour ago, and with my early flight looming, I knew it was time for me to head back as well.

Reluctantly, I stood up, brushing off the invisible weight of exhaustion that clung to me. I made my way through the crowd, weaving between groups of people until I reached Alba and the group of friends she was with.

I informed them that I was heading back to the hotel and took a moment to say my goodbyes since I wouldn’t be seeing them in the morning.

Alba gave me a tight hug, her energy still as high as ever, and I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

But before I left, I wanted to find Alexia. I hadn’t seen much of her since we arrived, as she had been busy celebrating with her teammates, and the bar was packed with people.

Despite that, our eyes had met a few times across the room, and each time, we shared a soft, knowing smile that made my heart flutter.

There was a connection between us that no amount of distance could weaken.

Scanning the room one last time, I finally spotted her seated in a corner, deep in conversation with Irene and Jenni.

I took a deep breath and made my way over, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As I approached, Irene noticed me first.

She gave me a warm smile and nodded in my direction, subtly tapping Alexia on the shoulder to get her attention.

Alexia turned around, and the moment her eyes met mine, her face lit up with a wide, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat.

She stood up and immediately wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight, affectionate hug.

I hugged her back just as firmly, savoring the warmth and comfort of being close to her.

When we finally pulled away, we remained close, our fingers naturally intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

The noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as we stood there, connected by more than just our hands. I could see the emotion in her eyes, and I knew she could see it in mine too.

“I’m going to head out,” I leaned in and whispered into her ear, the loud music and chatter making it hard to hear. She immediately frowned, her expression a mix of disappointment and concern.

“¿Por qué? Apenas hemos pasado tiempo juntos esta noche” (Why? We’ve barely spent any time together tonight) she replied, her voice tinged with a bit of a pout as she looked at me with those eyes that always made it hard to leave.

“I know,” I said softly, “but I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and honestly, I’m exhausted.” My words came out gently, hoping she would understand.

She sighed and nodded, though it was clear she wasn’t happy about it. The reluctance was written all over her face, but she knew I had to go. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel,” she offered, her tone more determined than before.

“No, no, really, it’s okay,” I assured her. “You should stay here and celebrate your victory with everyone. This is your night.”

But she shook her head firmly, her resolve unshakable. “No, no voy a dejarte ir solo” (No, I’m not letting you go by yourself) she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“Alexia,” I chuckled lightly, trying to ease her worries, “the hotel is literally five minutes away. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She looked at me with a mixture of stubbornness and care in her eyes. “A lot can happen in five minutes,” she insisted, and without waiting for further discussion, she turned to inform Jenni and Irene that she’d be walking me back.

Once she had made sure they knew, she returned to me and gently took my hand in hers. As our fingers intertwined, I felt the warmth and reassurance of her touch.

We made our way out of the bar together, leaving behind the noise and celebration, stepping into the cool night air.

Even though it was just a short walk, she gripped my hand tightly as we ambled through the dimly lit streets.

We began our journey to the hotel, our hands intertwined, chatting about the day’s highlights and her big win.

The air was crisp and cool, and the city lights cast a warm glow on our path. As we reminisced, our conversation was filled with laughter and playful teasing.

Each shared memory and joyful recollection made the walk feel special, transforming it into a cherished moment.

The simple pleasure of being together, wrapped in the warmth of our closeness, turned this brief journey into a sweet and unforgettable experience.

Finally, we arrived at the front of the hotel, the evening air cool against our skin.

“Thank you for walking me back,” I said, looking up at her with a playful pout. “But now you have to go back alone.”

She laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said with a teasing tone. “Solo voy a correr de regreso al bar” (I’ll just sprint back to the bar.) Her light-hearted joke made me smile, and we both shared a brief, carefree laugh.

As our laughter subsided, she drew me into a closer embrace, her arms wrapping warmly around my waist.

Her touch was comforting and intimate, making the moment feel even more special.

“No pienses que he olvidado lo que dije antes en el campo” (Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I said earlier on the field) she said, her smile tender and sincere as she looked into my eyes.

“I know you haven’t forgotten, and neither have I,” I replied softly, my voice full of affection.

She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against mine. “Now isn’t the right time to talk about it,” she whispered. “Es tarde, y deberías descansar. Pero te prometo que, una vez que estemos de vuelta en Barcelona, lo primero que quiero hacer es invitarte a una cita oficial” (It’s late, and you should get some rest. But I promise you, once we’re both back in Barcelona, the first thing I want to do is take you on an official date)

Her words took my breath away. The idea of an official date with her felt both thrilling and surreal. It was happening, and she had clearly made up her mind.

“If you want to, of course,” she added with a hint of nervousness, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

I looked up at her, my heart swelling with happiness. “Of course, I’d love to go on a date with you,” I said gently, and then I pressed my forehead against hers, giving her a tender Eskimo kiss

We both giggled softly, our laughter melding seamlessly with the serene quiet of the night.

As our giggles faded, she pulled me closer, her arms enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and affection that made everything around us feel distant and irrelevant.

I noticed her gaze flickering to my lips several times, a silent, suggestive movement that made my heart race.

She leaned down slightly, her breath mingling with mine, and I responded by tilting my head upward, closing the remaining distance between us.

This was it—the long-awaited moment. The night was calm and still, with no interruptions or distractions, just the two of us sharing this intimate space.

Our lips were mere centimeters apart now, and she looked into my eyes with a question in her gaze, silently asking for permission to close the gap. I offered a soft, encouraging nod, my own heart pounding in anticipation.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to fully embrace the moment. Then, I felt her lips touch mine—soft and tentative at first. It was a sensation that felt both thrilling and surreal.

Her lips were incredibly gentle, as though she was savoring each moment of this first kiss, making sure it was as perfect as it could be.

Our lips began to move together slowly, in a tender, unhurried rhythm. Each kiss was deliberate, a delicate exploration that conveyed both passion and tenderness.

She kissed me as if I were the most precious thing in the world, her arms still wrapped around my waist, holding me close.

My hands naturally found their way to her cheeks, feeling the softness of her skin and deepening our connection.

In that precious moment, I was overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions—like butterflies fluttering in my stomach or fireworks bursting in the night sky.

The kiss was not just a physical sensation but an emotional symphony, marking the beginning of something beautiful and profound between us.

After a few moments, we slowly pulled away from each other. She pressed a few more gentle kisses on my lips before softly drawing back.

As we both opened our eyes, her face broke into a radiant smile, and she said, “Finalmente” (Finally) Her voice was filled with a mix of relief and joy.

I chuckled softly, feeling a rush of happiness, and buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent and feeling her warmth envelop me.

She placed her large, comforting hand on the back of my head, her touch grounding and reassuring. “Yes, finally,” I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur, sharing in the profound sense of completion we both felt.

“No quiero irme ahora” (I don’t want to leave now) she whispered softly, her voice tinged with longing as she pressed a tender kiss to my hair. “I want to stay with you.”

Reluctantly, I pulled away slightly, needing to bring some sense of practicality into the moment. “No, you have to go back to the party,” I said with a gentle firmness, my tone mixed with affection.

Her smile remained, though it carried a hint of disappointment.

“I’m going back,” she said with a playful glint in her eye, “pero solo para que lo sepas, estaré pensando en ti todo el tiempo” (but just so you know, I’ll be thinking about you the entire time) Her cheeky grin made my heart flutter.

“Just have fun, okay?” I said, my hand moving to caress her cheek. She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the moment. “Te lo mereces, y estoy muy orgullosa de ti” (You deserved it, and I’m so proud of you.)

I withdrew my hand reluctantly and said, “Now, go before you miss out on all the excitement.”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Can I have one more kiss for the road?” she asked playfully, her voice a soft whisper of desire. I nodded in agreement.

She moved closer, her fingers gently cupping my cheek, and planted a series of tender kisses on my lips.

Each kiss was a delicate touch, full of warmth and promise, and as she kissed me, I felt a deep connection that made the moment feel even more intimate.

As she pulled back slightly, she whispered against my lips, “No puedo creer que he logrado dos sueños maravillosos esta noche” (Can’t believe I’ve achieved two wonderful dreams tonight) her words carrying a blend of excitement and tenderness.

It was clear she was referring to both me and her World Cup victory.

I laughed softly, my heart swelling with affection, and drew back completely. “You haven’t completely won me over yet,” I teased. “We’ll see how the first date goes. If it turns out to be dreadful, I’m afraid I might have to cut off all contact,” I said with a playful tone.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “No te preocupes por eso. Prepárate para quedar completamente impresionada” (Don’t worry about that. Prepare yourself to be completely blown away) she said with a confident, teasing smile.

I grinned and said, “Go now, and text me when you’re back at the party.”

She took my hands in hers and kissed them gently, her touch sending a thrill through me. “Te veré en Barcelona, bebé ” (I’ll see you in Barcelona, baby) she promised, kissing my hands once more before letting them go.

As she waved goodbye and walked away, I turned to enter the hotel, my mind still buzzing with the electric sensation of our kiss. How was I ever going to get any sleep tonight? All I could think about was that magical, unforgettable kiss and the anticipation of what the future held.

As I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to fall asleep—or at least trying not to let my thoughts drift to Alexia—my phone buzzed beside me.

Curious, I picked it up, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw her name light up my screen.

**La Reina👸:** I’m back at the bar. Sleep well and sweet dreams, bebé. I hope you have a great flight tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see you again in Barcelona. Besos.

A warm smile spread across my face as I read her message. God, I really missed her goodnight text messages.

I typed out a quick response, telling her to enjoy the rest of her night, but not without reminding her to have fun. As I hit send, a contented sigh escaped my lips. I placed my phone on the bedside table, locked the screen, and snuggled into the blankets.

Closing my eyes, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The anticipation of seeing her again in Barcelona filled my mind, and for the first time that night, I felt truly relaxed.

With a soft smile still lingering on my face, I finally drifted off to sleep, my thoughts no longer a whirlwind but a gentle reminder of what awaited me.

——

Back in New York, I sat down with my parents and excitedly shared all the details of my recent adventure in New Zealand and Australia.

From the breathtaking landscapes to the electrifying atmosphere of the World Cup, they were captivated by my stories.

They were especially overjoyed to hear about Alexia’s incredible achievement of winning the World Cup.

As the conversation shifted, I updated them on my situation with Alba and Alexia.

They listened intently, and I could see the relief and happiness wash over them as I explained how everything had resolved smoothly.

Their smiles grew even wider when I mentioned how well things had turned out for all of us, and how Alba and I had managed to strengthen our friendship despite the challenges.

Then came the moment I had been eager to share—I told my mom about the kiss Alexia and I shared.

As I described the moment, her eyes lit up with excitement, and she let out a squeal of delight, like a teenager hearing about her best friend’s first crush. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and we both burst into laughter.

It was reassuring to know that Alexia had my mom's full approval, and it made me feel even more confident about what lay ahead.

For the next three days in NYC, I made the most of my time with family and friends.

Every moment was precious, from catching up over coffee to long walks through the city. It felt like a warm embrace before I had to return to Barcelona.

——

Back in Barcelona, I hadn’t yet crossed paths with Alexia. She’s been swept up in the whirlwind of celebrations, interviews, and the countless obligations that come with being a World Cup champion.

Meanwhile, I’ve been equally caught up in preparing for the upcoming school year—endless meetings with Valeria, going over the new curriculum, and making sure everything’s in order.

It feels like our lives have been moving at a breakneck pace, leaving little room for anything else.

But despite our hectic schedules, we’ve managed to stay connected, as we always do.

Whether it’s through FaceTime calls or quick text messages, we’ve found ways to bridge the gap. Alexia has been sharing endless photos and videos from her celebrations, each one more heartwarming than the last. It’s been a small comfort to see her so happy, even if only through a screen.

Tonight, though, is different. Tonight, I’ll finally get to see her in person before she heads off again for Barcelona’s pre-season tour in Mexico.

The thought of it fills me with a mix of excitement and nerves.

We’ve planned our first official date, and I’ve been getting ready, trying not to overthink it.

Alexia hasn’t told me where we’re going, only that I should dress casually. That’s more than fine with me—she knows I’m not into anything too fancy, and casual feels more natural for us anyway. It’s a relief knowing she understands me so well.

As I finished getting dressed, smoothing out the last wrinkle in my outfit, I heard a knock at the door.

My heart jumped a little as I walked over to open it. When the door swung open, there she was—Alexia, standing in front of me with that familiar, dazzling smile. She looked effortlessly stunning in her simple blue wide-leg jeans and a white crop top.

In one hands, she held a bouquet of flowers and the others held the Nala’s leach.

For a moment, I just stood there, taking her in. The sight of her, right there in front of me after what felt like so long, made my heart swell.

It wasn’t just the flowers or her casual but perfect outfit—it was the way she looked at me, the warmth in her eyes that made everything else fade into the background.

“Hola, amor” she greeted me with a gentle smile that instantly made my heart flutter. I couldn’t help but smile back at her, the warmth of her presence washing over me. “You look beautiful, as always” she added softly, her voice full of sincerity.

As she stepped closer, she wrapped me in a warm, comforting hug, the kind that made me feel like everything was right in the world again.

"Ugh, I missed you," I admitted, my voice laced with frustration from all the time we’d spent apart. She laughed softly at my words, the sound like music to my ears.

We reluctantly pulled away from the embrace, but I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

Grinning mischievously, I cupped her face in my hands and began peppering her cheeks with kisses, one after the other, causing her to giggle in that adorable way that always melted my heart.

Just as I was about to steal another kiss, I heard a little bark from below. I glanced down and saw Nala looking up at me with those big, expectant eyes.

With a laugh, I bent down to pick her up. “Oh, Nala! I missed you so much!” I cooed, cuddling her close and pressing kisses into her soft fur. “Much more than I missed your mami” I teased, flashing Alexia a cheeky smile over Nala's head.

Alexia laughed at my playful remark and handed me the bouquet of flowers she had brought. “Para tì,” (for you) she said, her eyes twinkling with affection.

I carefully set Nala back down and took the flowers from Alexia’s hands, admiring their vibrant colors and sweet fragrance.

“Thank you, Alexia. With all the flowers you’ve given me, I could practically open a flower shop” I joked, eliciting another soft laugh from her.

After putting the flowers in water, I returned to her side, feeling content and at peace. "Vamos," she said, extending her hand toward me.

I took it without hesitation, and as she intertwined our fingers, a wave of warmth spread through me.

We slowly made our way towards her car, fingers intertwined as we walked side by side.

When we finally arrived, she took a moment to open the door for me. I leaned in and kissed her gently on the cheek, whispering a heartfelt “thank you” before sliding into the passenger seat.

After ensuring I was settled in, she turned her attention to Nala, carefully placing her in the backseat with a few affectionate pats.

Once Nala was comfortable, she climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled her seatbelt with a soft click, and started the engine. The hum of the car filled the air as we began our journey to wherever our date would take us.

As the city lights blurred by, I noticed her right hand resting casually on her lap. The desire to be close to her was too strong to resist, so I gently reached over and took her hand in mine, our fingers naturally intertwining.

The warmth of her touch spread through me, and when she glanced over at me, her lips curled into a tender smile.

Without a word, she lifted our joined hands and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of mine before letting them rest comfortably on my lap. I couldn’t resist tracing my fingers along her arm, savoring the connection between us.

After what felt like a dreamy ride, we finally arrived at our destination. As soon as I realized it was the beach, I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Oooh, I love a beach date!” I exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm, and she chuckled at my reaction, her laughter light and contagious.

We both got out of the car, the cool breeze immediately welcoming us. She moved to the backseat, carefully lifting Nala out before coming back to me.

Once again, she took my hand, our fingers fitting together as naturally as they always did.

The beach was calm and peaceful, with only a few scattered people in the distance. As we strolled towards the shore, she guided us to a more secluded area, where the sand was softer, and the waves seemed to dance just for us.

Spread out on the sand was a cozy blanket, along with a thoughtfully prepared picnic setup. There was a bottle of wine, a platter of assorted cheeses and ham, fresh fruits, and an array of other delicious snacks that made my heart swell with appreciation.

I turned to her, my eyes filled with gratitude. “Aww, Alexia, this is absolutely perfect. It’s so cute,” I said, my voice laced with genuine happiness. Her smile widened at my words, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Vamos,” she said softly, tugging my hand as she led me toward the blanket. Nala, full of energy, started running around, barking joyfully as she explored the surroundings.

Alexia and I sat close together, the warmth of her body comforting against the cool ocean breeze.

She reached for the wine, expertly opening the bottle with a satisfying pop, and poured me a glass.

I accepted it gratefully, our eyes meeting in a moment of shared contentment, and I couldn’t help but thank her once again for the beautiful evening she had planned.

The entire date was truly magical, exceeding all my expectations.

From the moment we arrived at the beach, Alexia and I found ourselves effortlessly immersed in conversation, diving deep into meaningful topics and then easily shifting to lighter, more playful discussions. It felt like we could talk about anything and everything without a single awkward pause.

Nala, her joyful presence adding to the atmosphere, often became the center of our attention as we tossed a ball for her and laughed at her excited antics.

At one point, as the sky began to shift into softer hues of pink and orange, I found myself sitting between Alexia’s legs on the blanket.

Her strong, warm chest pressed firmly against my back, and it felt like I was enveloped in a protective and comforting embrace.

Our hands naturally found each other and intertwined on my stomach, and Nala, always seeking closeness, nestled comfortably between my legs. The scene was picture-perfect, peaceful and intimate.

Alexia would occasionally lean down to plant tender kisses on my cheeks, her lips soft and affectionate.

Each time, I’d turn my head slightly, resting it against her shoulder, just so I could gaze up at her while we continued to chat. The way she looked at me made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile every time our eyes met.

As we talked, she gently pulled her hand away from mine and brought it to my cheek. Her large, warm hand cradled my face, her fingers moving with such tenderness that it made my breath catch.

She looked into my eyes, and in that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked softly, her voice filled with sincerity as her eyes searched mine.

I couldn’t resist teasing her just a little. “Hmm, I don’t know,” I said with a playful smirk, “I usually don’t kiss on the first date.”

But as I finished speaking, I leaned closer to her, puckering my lips in an exaggerated manner to show her I was just joking, giving her the signal that I was more than okay with it.

She laughed, a beautiful sound that made my heart skip a beat, and then she closed the small distance between us.

The moment our lips met, it was like everything fell perfectly into place.

The kiss was soft and gentle at first, our lips moving in perfect harmony. I could feel the warmth and sweetness of her touch, and it sent waves of electricity coursing through me.

I adjusted myself slightly, sitting up more so I could kiss her deeper, and she responded by pulling me closer, wrapping both of her strong arms around my waist, holding me as if she never wanted to let go.

Carefully, I turned around to face her completely, mindful of Nala who was still snuggled between my legs.

I ended up practically straddling Alexia, my hands resting on her shoulders as our kiss grew more intense.

Her tongue gently brushed against my lips, asking for permission, and I eagerly parted them, allowing her to explore further.

Our tongues met in a slow, sensual dance, caressing each other as we lost ourselves in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, but also not nearly long enough, we finally pulled away, breathless and flushed.

I knew my face was probably as red as a tomato, but Alexia just smiled at me, her eyes filled with affection.

She then buried her face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling into me, and I responded by gently running my fingers through her hair, savoring the closeness.

Once we caught our breath and the moment settled, we decided to take a walk along the beach.

The sunset was a breathtaking mix of colors, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple as the waves gently lapped at the shore.

We walked hand in hand, our fingers once again intertwined, and the whole scene felt like something out of a dream.

The romance of it all was undeniable, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that this was, without a doubt, the best first date I had ever experienced.

Every moment with Alexia felt special, and I couldn’t wait to see where things would go from here.

After that incredible date, she drove me back to my place, but before I could even get out of the car, she practically begged me to stay over at her apartment.

She knew she'd be leaving again for Mexico the day after tomorrow, and neither of us wanted the night to end. The thought of being apart so soon made it impossible for me to say no, so I immediately agreed.

We went up to my apartment so I could gather some essentials—just a small bag with clothes, a toothbrush, and a few other things I thought I might need.

She patiently waited in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smile, watching me as I hurried around.

Once I had everything, we headed back to her apartment. The moment we walked in, the atmosphere felt cozy and intimate, like our own little world where time didn’t matter. We decided to watch a movie, but it quickly became background noise.

Instead of focusing on the screen, we found ourselves wrapped up in each other—sharing inside jokes, laughing until our stomachs hurt, and stealing kisses every chance we got.

Every time I looked at her, I felt this overwhelming desire to be close to her, to feel her warmth.

I couldn’t get enough—I wanted to keep kissing her, to hold her tighter, to make the most of every moment we had together before she had to leave again.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, but even as we grew tired, we didn’t want to let go of each other.

When we finally made our way to bed, we ended up in a tangle of limbs, with me practically draped over her. The weight of my body against hers was comforting, and as I rested my head on her chest, I could feel her heartbeat—a steady, reassuring rhythm that lulled me into relaxation.

Her hand slipped under my shirt, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along my back, moving up and down in soothing strokes that sent shivers through me.

Her touch was so tender, so familiar, that it made my heart ache with how much I loved her. Just as I was on the edge of sleep, I heard her soft voice whisper, “Buenas noches, mi amor.” (Good night my love)

Those words, filled with affection, were the last thing I remembered as I drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, feeling safe and cherished in her arms.

——

The next morning came all too soon, and I found myself once again wrapped in Alexia’s warm embrace as we prepared to say our goodbyes.

The weight of the moment hung between us, knowing she would be leaving for Mexico the next day. We wouldn’t have a chance to see each other for the rest of the day either, with both of us caught up in a whirlwind of last-minute tasks and responsibilities. It made these final moments all the more bittersweet.

Standing near the front door, our bodies pressed close together, I whispered against her lips, “I’ll miss you.”

My voice was soft, barely audible, as if speaking the words aloud would make them more real, more painful.

Her arms tightened around me, and she responded between kisses, “Me too.” Her words were simple but laced with the same longing I felt.

Every kiss felt like a promise, a reassurance that even though we’d be apart, our connection wouldn’t waver.

We lingered in that embrace, savoring every second, every touch, as if trying to make time slow down.

Our kisses grew deeper, more intense, as if we could somehow make up for the days we would be apart. But eventually, reality set in, and we had to pull away, reluctantly creating space between us.

I let out a small sigh, trying to muster the willpower to leave. “Okay, I need to go now, or I’ll never leave,” I said with a half-smile, bending down to pick up my bag.

The idea of walking out that door felt harder than it should have.

Alexia moved to open the door for me, but not without one last gesture. She leaned in and brushed her lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “Adios, bebé. I’ll see you in a week,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm, trying to make the separation feel bearable.

“Bye, Ale,” I replied, taking a few steps towards the door, but before I could make my exit, I felt her hand slip into mine, pulling me back slightly.

“Wait,” she said with that playful smile I adored so much. “Please, look both ways before crossing the road, okay?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, a mix of affection and exasperation bubbling up. With a teasing huff, I reached up to pinch her cheek lightly. “I will,” I promised, shaking my head at her protective nature.

As I finally walked away, I could feel her eyes on me, and I turned back for one last glance. There she was, standing in the doorway, watching me go with that familiar look of love and concern. It made me want to run back and stay just a little longer, but I knew we’d both have to be strong until we were together again.

——

Today marked the first day back at school, and I found myself surprisingly eager to return to work. There’s something invigorating about the start of a new school year—the buzz of excitement in the air, the fresh faces of the children, and the feeling of diving back into a routine that brings a sense of purpose.

I’ve missed the chatter, the laughter, and even the chaos that comes with being surrounded by kids. It felt good to be back in the classroom, and I couldn’t wait to reconnect with all the students and hear about their summer adventures.

But even with all that enthusiasm for work, there was something, or rather someone, who occupied my thoughts all day. Alexia. She had just returned from Mexico late last night, and after a whole week of not seeing her, I was practically counting down the minutes until we could finally be together tonight.

Sure, we stayed in touch while she was away—texting whenever we could and squeezing in late-night calls—but it wasn’t the same as being able to hold her, to see her smile in person.

The anticipation of being in her arms again was almost overwhelming.

Tonight, we’d be celebrating her victory with a small, intimate gathering organized by Alba and a few close friends. It was a chance for Alexia to unwind and celebrate her achievements surrounded by the people who mattered most—her friends, her family, and me.

And while I was excited to be part of that, there was a tiny knot of uncertainty in my stomach. I mean, I’ll be there as... her girlfriend? Wait, can I even call myself that? I wasn’t entirely sure.

Even though Alexia and I had been acting like a couple—holding hands, stealing kisses, sharing moments that felt undeniably romantic—we hadn’t had that official conversation.

Nothing had been defined, and I found myself wondering where exactly we stood and I wasn’t sure if it was too soon to bring it up. After all, our first date was only a week ago, and she’d been away for most of that time.

So, for now, I decided to let things be. I wanted to give Alexia some space and time to figure out how she felt. There was no need to rush into any deep conversations about labels and commitments just yet.

Tonight wasn’t about that—it was about celebrating her success and being there for her in this moment. I’d focus on enjoying the evening, being present, and sharing in her happiness. The rest, well, it could wait until the time felt right.

“Nos veremos esta noche, ¿verdad? ¿Necesitas que pase a recogerte? Ya estoy recogiendo an Alexia y Marina, así que puedo pasar a buscarte también” (I’ll see you tonight, right? Do you need me to come pick you up? I’m already picking up Alexia and Marina, so I can swing by and get you too) Alba asked as we stood in the parking lot after work, her tone light and cheerful as usual.

The mention of Marina’s name made my stomach churn. Marina? That girl is coming too? I immediately felt my enthusiasm drain away. Just hearing her name makes me want to scream… or maybe throw up.

“Espera, ¿Marina viene también?” (Wait, Marina’s coming?) I asked, trying to mask the disbelief in my voice but failing miserably. I had completely forgotten that I’m the only one in our circle who can’t stand her.

Everyone else seems to think she’s great, but they don’t know the real Marina like I do.

“Sí, ella viene” (Yeah, she is) Alba replied, smiling softly, clearly picking up on my discomfort. She always tries to be considerate, but in this case, it just made things worse.

I bit my lip, weighing my options. Maybe I could fake being sick or come up with a convincing excuse. Anything to avoid spending the evening with Marina.

“Hmm… en realidad, no estoy tan seguro de ir… No me he estado sintiendo muy bien” (Um… actually, I’m not so sure about going… I haven’t been feeling great) I said hesitantly, hoping to sound convincing enough that Alba wouldn’t press the issue.

The truth was, the thought of being in the same room as Marina made my skin crawl. She always brought up too many bad memories, things I’d rather forget. I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing her face or hearing her voice again.

And if I’m being honest, it hurt knowing that Alba, Alexia, and even our mutual friends actually liked her. Maybe they didn’t see the side of her that I did. To them, she was always so sweet and charming, but with me, it was a different story.

“¿Qué? No, no, no” (What? No, no, no) Alba protested, clearly unconvinced. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no te sientes bien? Estuviste bien todo el día” (What do you mean you’re not feeling well? You looked fine all day.) She reached out and touched my forehead, checking for a fever like she was my mom.

I swatted her hand away, a bit annoyed, just as a look of realization crossed her face.

“No vas a venir por Marina, ¿verdad?” (You’re not coming because of Marina, aren’t you?) she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief as the pieces fell into place.

I sighed heavily, finally giving in. “Sí, Alba. No quiero ir por Marina” (Yes, Alba. I don’t want to go because of Marina) I admitted, fiddling with my car keys, the cool metal a distraction from the conversation I didn’t want to have.

Alba’s expression softened, but she wasn’t giving up. “Y/N, no puedes dejar que ella arruine nuestra noche. Solo ignórala. Nos divertiremos, te lo prometo” (Y/N, you can’t let her ruin our night. Just ignore her. We’ll have fun, I promise) she urged, her voice gentle but persistent.

“No, Alba. No puedo simplemente ignorarla. No entiendes lo difícil que es para mí” (No, Alba. I can’t just ignore her. You don’t understand how hard it is for me) I said firmly, meeting her gaze. “Es fácil para ti decir eso porque no sientes lo mismo que yo. No puedo fingir estar feliz sentado en la misma habitación que la ex de Alexia, especialmente alguien que claramente no me agrada” (It’s easy for you to say that because you don’t feel the way I do. I can’t pretend to be happy sitting in the same room as Alexia’s ex. Especially someone who clearly doesn’t like me.)

Alba looked down at the pavement for a moment, guilt flickering across her face before she met my eyes again. “Está bien, lo entiendo. No tienes que venir si realmente no quieres” (Okay, I get it. You don’t have to come if you really don’t want to) she said, biting her lip, clearly torn. “Pero es que… siento que Alexia se decepcionará si no estás allí.”(But I just… I feel like Alexia will be disappointed if you’re not there)

Hearing that made my heart sink a little. I knew Alba wasn’t trying to guilt-trip me, but it still stung. I wanted to be there for Alexia, but not if it meant putting myself through the torture of dealing with Marina.

Still, I could see the conflict in Alba’s eyes, and I hated that this situation was causing tension between us.

“Por favor, Y/N, no te estoy pidiendo que lo hagas por Marina. Lo estoy pidiendo por Alexia. Tú y yo sabemos cuánto le gustaría que estuvieras allí. Es su fiesta, y se sentiría muy decepcionada si no vinieras. Por favor…” (Please, Y/N, I’m not asking you to do this for Marina. I’m asking for Alexia. You and I both know how much she’d want you there. It’s her party, and she would be so disappointed if you didn’t come. Please…) she said, practically pleading.

She’s right. I should set aside my feelings about Marina and think about Alexia. It’s her special day, and it’s important to celebrate it with her, even if I’m not thrilled about Marina’s presence.

I let out a long sigh, feeling defeated. “Está bien, está bien. Solo ven a recogerme” (Alright, fine. Just come pick me up.)

“Yes!” she shouted, her face lighting up with joy. She bounced up and down with excitement. “¡Vamos a pasar un tiempo increíble! Te prometo que lo disfrutarás” (We’re going to have an amazing time! I promise you’ll enjoy it) she added, pulling me into a warm hug.

“Yes, so much fun…” I muttered under my breath, trying to muster a smile despite my reluctance.

——

I heard a honk outside and, glancing through the window, saw Alba’s car waiting at the curb.

Hurriedly, I finished tying my shoes, grabbed my bag, and dashed out of my apartment. As I approached the car, I noticed Alba and Marina sitting in the front seats, chatting away.

But it was Alexia, standing near the front of the car, who really caught my attention. The moment our eyes met, a wide smile spread across my face, and I could see her mirror my expression with the same enthusiasm.

Without thinking, I practically ran towards her. As I got closer, she opened her arms, and I threw myself into them, feeling the warmth and familiarity of her embrace.

She hugged me tightly, lifting me off the ground effortlessly, making me feel lighter both physically and emotionally.

When we finally pulled back from the hug, Alexia looked into my eyes for a brief moment, then leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and familiar, and I found myself melting into it.

After a few lingering seconds, we pulled away, our smiles returning as we looked at each other.

“Te extrañé tanto, mi amor” (I missed you so much, my love ) she whispered, her voice full of affection. I couldn’t help but echo her words, my heart swelling with warmth.

Over her shoulder, I noticed Alba and Marina watching us. Alba had a huge grin on her face, clearly enjoying the moment and teasing us by making exaggerated kissing motions with her lips.

Meanwhile, Marina was glaring at me, her eyes sharp before she dramatically rolled them and focused on her phone, clearly not amused by the scene.

Once we all piled into the car, Alexia took the middle seat right beside me. She immediately reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers as we settled in for the ride.

Her presence next to me felt reassuring, even as I caught Marina occasionally glaring at me through the rearview mirror. I decided to ignore it, focusing instead on the warmth of Alexia’s hand in mine and the comfortable conversation we were having.

We chatted about our day, plans for the weekend, and just shared small, affectionate moments throughout the drive.

As we neared the restaurant, Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, “Hey, por cierto, el sábado vamos a tener una noche de juegos en mi apartamento con los demás. Por favor, ven también” (Hey, by the way Saturday, we’re having game night at my apartment with the others, please come too?)

She gently traced circles on the back of my hand with her thumb as she spoke, her voice full of hope.

“Of course ” I replied softly, my heart fluttering at the idea. I leaned in and kissed her again, a sweet, lingering kiss.

——

We finally arrived at the restaurant where the intimate gathering would take place. The air was filled with excitement, and the soft glow of the evening lights made the atmosphere feel warm and welcoming.

One by one, we all stepped out of the car, and as soon as Alexia set foot on the pavement, Marina quickly approached her.

With a wide smile on her face, she gently took Alexia’s hand in hers, guiding her toward the entrance of the restaurant. The sight of them together brought a pang of something indescribable to my chest.

As they walked away, Alexia turned back to me, her eyes soft and apologetic as she offered me a small, regretful smile, almost as if she wished she could be walking with me instead.

Alba, noticing my hesitation, came up to me with her usual warmth. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a comforting embrace, her voice gentle as she whispered, “Vamos, amor.”

Her touch brought me back to the moment, and with a reassuring nod, she led me towards the restaurant, her presence a reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

Alba had gone all out for this event, renting out the entire restaurant so that it was just Alexia’s closest family and friends gathered inside.

The moment we stepped through the doors, a wave of cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, all for Alexia.

The room buzzed with energy and love, the kind of atmosphere that makes you feel both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed at the same time.

After mingling with everyone for what felt like hours, I started to feel the weight of exhaustion settling in.

The heat inside the restaurant wasn’t helping either, making the space feel even more suffocating.

Needing a break, I decided to slip outside for a moment, just to catch my breath and escape the noise.

Outside, I found a small, secluded corner with a few cozy chairs set up. It was the perfect spot to unwind and clear my head, so I sank into one of the chairs, grateful for the quiet.

The cool night air brushed against my skin, offering a much-needed relief from the warmth inside.

I had only been sitting there for a short while when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Startled, I turned around and looked up to see Marina standing there, her expression unreadable.

My brows furrowed in confusion—of all people, I hadn’t expected her to follow me out here.

“Mantente alejado de Alexia” (Stay away from Alexia) she demanded, her tone cold and unyielding as she fixed me with a sharp glare.

“Que?” (What?)I replied, disbelief lacing my voice. The abruptness of her words caught me off guard.

“Me oíste” (You heard me) she repeated, her eyes narrowing. “No te la mereces. Ella merece alguien mucho mejor que tú” (You don't deserve her. She deserves so much better than you)

Her words stung, but I refused to let her see how much they affected me. “Fuck you” I shot back in english, standing up from my seat and preparing to walk away.

But before I could, Marina grabbed my wrist, her grip tight.

“Nunca te amará como me amó a mí” (She'll never love you like she loved me) she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Ella me dijo, una y otra vez, que yo era el amor de su vida. Íbamos a casarnos y vivir felices para siempre—me lo dijo ella misma” (She told me, over and over again, that I was the love of her life. We were supposed to get married, live happily ever after—she told me that herself.)

I could see the satisfaction in her eyes as she tried to rattle me, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of backing down. “Ella TE AMABA” (She LOVED you) I retorted, emphasizing the past tense. “Ya no más, idiota. Tú no eres el que sale en citas con ella, la besa o está con ella románticamente. Eso soy yo ahora” (Not anymore, you idiot. You're not the one who gets to go on dates with her, kiss her, or be with her romantically. That's me now.)

I yanked my wrist free from her grip, the anger boiling inside me as I took a step back, putting distance between us.

Marina's smirk wavered briefly, but then she leaned in closer, so close that I could feel her breath on my face.

Her eyes were locked on mine, filled with a mixture of defiance and something almost challenging.

She was just about to say something else, her lips parting, when a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Y/N?”

I turned around and saw Alexia standing a few feet away, her face etched with concern. Her eyes flicked between Marina and me, clearly sensing that something wasn’t right. “¿Todo está bien?” (Is everything okay?) she asked, her voice gentle but laced with worry.

Before I could even respond, Marina beat me to it. “Todo está bien, Alexia, no te preocupes” (Everything’s fine, Alexia, don’t worry) she said smoothly, flashing one of those fake smiles that seemed all too practiced. It was the kind of smile that could fool most people, but not me. And from the way Alexia looked at her, not Alexia either.

Alexia’s gaze lingered on me, her concern deepening as she studied my face. I felt my stomach twist, and I quickly looked away, biting my lip nervously to avoid her questioning eyes.

I could feel the weight of her stare, searching for answers I wasn’t ready to give.

“Regresémonos a tu fiesta, Ale” (Let’s go back to your party, Ale) Marina suggested, taking a step forward and slipping her hand into Alexia’s, trying to pull her away from the moment.

But Alexia gently pulled her hand free from Marina’s grasp. “Tú sigue adelante” (You go ahead) she said softly but firmly. “Solo quiero hablar con Y/N un momento” (I just want to talk to Y/N for a moment.)

Marina’s eyes darted between us, clearly reluctant to leave. She hesitated for a second, but then nodded, masking her frustration with another one of her forced smiles.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Alexia’s cheek, her eyes lingering on me for just a moment longer before she finally walked away.

As soon as Marina was gone, Alexia stepped closer to me, her presence immediately soothing. She placed her hands gently on either side of my face, her touch warm and familiar. “Are you okay, bebé ?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

Her eyes searched mine, trying to understand what had just happened.

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat, but I couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I hate her,” I blurted out, my voice barely above a whisper.

I hadn’t planned on saying it, not now, not like this, but the frustration and anger I had been bottling up finally spilled over.

Alexia looked taken aback for a moment, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Who? Marina? Why?” she asked, her voice full of genuine concern.

She searched my face, trying to piece together what had triggered this sudden outburst.

Taking a deep breath, I started to explain everything. I told her about the first time I met Marina, how from the very beginning, there was something off about the way she spoke to me, the way her eyes seemed to judge me.

I explained how Marina’s words had cut into me, how she made me feel small and unworthy. I described how tense it had been whenever she was around, the constant undercurrent of hostility that I could never quite shake.

I even confessed my worries about their trip to Bali. How seeing them together, so close, made me feel uneasy. I knew I should trust Alexia, but the way Marina clung to her, the familiarity they shared, it gnawed at me.

And then tonight, when Marina confronted me, telling me I didn’t deserve Alexia, it was like all those buried feelings suddenly rose to the surface.

Alexia listened quietly, her hands never leaving my face. Her expression shifted from confusion to understanding, and finally, to a soft, compassionate gaze.

When I finished, there was a moment of silence between us, the weight of my words hanging in the air.

Finally, Alexia spoke, her voice gentle and reassuring. “No tenía idea de que te sentías así. Lo siento mucho. No debiste haber pasado por eso solo” (I had no idea you felt this way. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.) Her thumbs gently stroked my cheeks, her eyes filled with sincerity as she continued. “You’re the one I want to be with, Y/N. No one else. Marina is my past. You’re my present and my future.”

Hearing her say those words brought a wave of relief over me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “I just didn’t know how to tell you,” I admitted softly, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief.

Alexia pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close. “No tienes que enfrentar esto solo, cariño” (You don’t have to face this alone, baby) she whispered into my hair.

I felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me as I finally let everything out to Alexia. Not once did she question or doubt me; throughout the entire conversation, she listened intently, trusting every word I said.

Her belief in me, without hesitation, made me feel seen and understood in a way that I desperately needed.

As we pulled away from our embrace, Alexia leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t just a simple kiss—it was soft, tender, yet filled with a deep, burning passion that made my heart race. Her lips moved slowly against mine, savoring every moment.

Gradually, she parted my lips with hers, gently slipping her tongue into my mouth. The sensation was intoxicating, and I couldn’t help but respond by wrapping my arms even tighter around her neck, pulling her closer.

Our tongues began to dance together, slow and sensual, each movement deliberate and full of emotion. It was as if time had slowed down, and all that existed was the connection between us.

The kiss deepened, becoming more intense, yet still maintaining that careful, passionate rhythm. Every touch, every caress of her tongue against mine, spoke volumes—words of reassurance, love, and unspoken promises that everything would be okay as long as we were together.

But we were interrupted by a deliberately loud cough. Turning around, we saw Alba standing there with a mischievous smirk on her face. “Vamos, enamorados, es hora del pastel” (Come on, lovers, it’s time for the cake) she said playfully, and then turned on her heel to head back inside.

“Vamos, amor,” Alexia said, gently wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing a soft kiss to my temple. She whispered reassuringly, “Lo resolveré, lo prometo” (I’ll sort this out, I promise) and I smiled at her, feeling comforted.

For the rest of the evening, Alexia remained by my side. She was constantly close to me, her touch a constant reassurance. Whether it was her arms draped around my shoulders or waist, or her hand resting warmly on my thigh while we sat, she made sure I felt her presence.

Meanwhile, Marina continued to glare at me from across the room. Her looks were so intense that it felt as if they could pierce through me. If stares could kill, I’d be six feet under.

——

The party had finally come to an end, and I was utterly exhausted. After hours of mingling, dancing, and celebrating, it was a relief when we all gathered to say our goodbyes.

As we stepped outside into the cool night air, Alexia, Alba, Marina, and I made our way to the car, ready to head home.

In my mind, I figured we’d settle into the same seats we had on the way there—keeping things simple and familiar. But, of course, Marina had other ideas.

Without hesitation, she made her way to the backseat, where Alexia was already comfortably seated, and slid in beside her. I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of annoyance but decided not to make a fuss.

Instead, I silently took my place in the front passenger seat, feeling a bit put out by the change in seating arrangements.

Just as I was fastening my seatbelt, Alexia turned to Alba and said, “Alba, cambiemos de asientos. Yo conduciré” (Alba, let's swap seats. I’ll drive) Her voice was calm but decisive, and before I could even process it, she was already stepping out of the car to make the switch.

Alba, too tired to protest, simply nodded and got out of the driver’s seat, making her way to the back without a word.

She was clearly as drained as the rest of us, and the prospect of letting someone else handle the drive home was a welcome relief.

Alexia took over the driver’s seat, and as she settled in, she looked over at me with a mischievous, teasing smile. It was the kind of smile that made me chuckle inwardly, knowing she was up to something.

I couldn't help but smile back, appreciating the subtle yet calculated move she’d just made.

As I glanced in the rearview mirror, I caught sight of Marina’s expression. She was frowning, clearly displeased with the way things had unfolded. It was obvious that she wasn’t happy about the seating arrangement, and that brought a small, satisfied smirk to my lips.

That’s right, Marina, she doesn’t want to sit next to you. Bitch.

With a smooth turn of the key, Alexia started the car, and we began the drive home, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

The night outside was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere of the party we had just left behind. At some point during the drive, I felt Alexia’s hand gently rest on my knee, a warm and comforting gesture that instantly made me relax. Without thinking, I reached down and placed my hand over hers, our fingers naturally intertwining.

Alexia lifted our joined hands and brought them to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand.

The simple, affectionate gesture made me smile, and I glanced over at her, feeling a quiet happiness settle over me. Moments like this, shared in the quiet of the night, made everything else fade into the background.

Finally arriving at my apartment, I unbuckled my seatbelt and took a deep breath. “Muchas gracias por el ride. Realmente me divertí mucho esta noche. Buenas noches, chicas.” (Thank you so much for the ride. I really had a great time tonight. Goodnight, girls) I said with a smile, directing my words mostly to Alexia and Alba, before stepping out of the car.

“Espera, te acompañaré hasta la puerta” (Wait, I’ll walk you to your door) Alexia quickly offered, already unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

“Si us plau, Alexia, afanya’t! Estic esgotada i només vull tornar a casa” (Please, Alexia, hurry up! I’m exhausted and just want to go home) Marina grumbled in Catalan from the backseat. Although I couldn’t understand what she said, but knowing her it might be something stupid.

Alexia just nodded at her words without responding and gently closed the car door behind her. She came around to my side and took my hand, her touch warm and reassuring as she led me to the entrance of my building. The night air was cool, and the quiet of the street felt like a peaceful contrast to the earlier excitement.

When we reached my apartment door, I fumbled with the keys for a moment before unlocking it. Turning to Alexia, I smiled and said, “Thank you, Ale. I really appreciate you walking me up.”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her close. Her arms slid around my waist, and she leaned in, kissing me softly.

The feeling of her lips against mine sent a wave of warmth through me, and I savored the moment, not wanting it to end.

"My pleasure, mi amor," she whispered against my lips, her voice tender and full of affection. As she held me close, she gently squeezed me, her embrace making me feel safe and cherished.

Her eyes locked with mine, and she smiled softly, a look of pure love and contentment on her face.

“What is it?” I asked, mirroring her smile, feeling a quiet happiness settle between us.

“Nothing,” she said smiling softly.

I furrowed my brows playfully.

She grinned teasingly at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in for another kiss. Just as our lips were about to meet, the sound of a honk from the car broke the moment.

Alexia sighed softly but then gave me a quick peck on the lips. “ Está bien, cariño, tengo que irme ahora. Que tengas una buena noche, y te veré pronto” (Alright, baby, I need to go now. Have a good night, and I’ll see you soon) she said, her voice reluctant but loving. She kissed me once more, this time lingering for a moment longer before finally pulling away.

As she turned to leave, I watched her walk back to the car, feeling the warmth of her presence linger even after she was gone.

——

On Saturday night, I found myself at Alexia’s apartment, surrounded by her friends for a lively game night. The atmosphere was buzzing with laughter and chatter, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Well, almost everyone.

Marina was there too, Alexia apologized she did not know that she was coming, Mark had invited her. From the moment I stepped through the door, she had been glaring at me like I was her worst enemy. It wasn’t surprising—she had a habit of throwing daggers my way whenever we were in the same room. What else is new?

I tried not to let her icy stares get to me as I busied myself in the kitchen, refilling a bowl of chips for everyone. As I reached for the bag, I suddenly felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around my waist from behind, pulling me into a warm embrace.

A soft, lingering kiss was placed on the side of my neck, and I instantly relaxed, knowing it was Alexia.

“The next game, you’re on my team. Alba’s terrible—I keep losing because of her,” Alexia mumbled against my neck, her voice laced with playful frustration.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her complaint, the sound bubbling up easily as I leaned my head back against her shoulder. I tilted my face up to hers, planting a series of light kisses on her cheek, one after another, as if to soothe her grumpiness.

“Please stay the night here,” she murmured, her tone softer now, as she gently swayed us from side to side. “Y mañana, podemos ir a comer juntos” (And tomorrow, we can go on a lunch date.)

Her request was sweet and impossible to resist. How could I say no to spending more time with her?

“I’d love to spend the night here,” I replied, my voice just as gentle. The thought of staying over and then enjoying a relaxed lunch date the next day sounded perfect.

Before we could get too lost in the moment, Alba’s loud voice echoed from the living room, interrupting us. “¡Y/N! Estamos esperando las patatas, ¡date prisa!” (Y/N! We’re waiting for the chips, hurry up!)

I chuckled at her impatience and gently pushed Alexia away, though I was reluctant to leave the comfort of her arms. "Vamos," I said with a grin, taking her hand and leading us back to the living room where the rest of the group was waiting.

As we returned to the couch, I couldn’t help but notice Marina’s eyes on us again, her expression as sour as ever. But I didn’t let it bother me. Instead, I squeezed Alexia’s hand, feeling content and happy to be by her side.

After continuing with our games for a while, we decided to take a short break. I casually announced that I was heading to the bathroom and left the group, leaving behind the lively chatter and laughter that filled Alexia’s apartment.

In the bathroom, I took a moment to freshen up, washing my hands and collecting my thoughts. But as I turned to leave, I found Marina blocking the doorway, her eyes fixed on me with a cold intensity.

The air felt heavy with tension, and I knew immediately that this wasn't going to be a pleasant encounter.

“Que?” (What?) I asked, frustration bubbling up inside me as I faced her.

“Te dije que te mantuvieras alejado de Alexia” (I told you to stay away from Alexia) she hissed, her voice sharp and menacing.

I met her gaze without flinching. “Y yo te dije que Alexia no te quiere. Ella no te ama” (And I told you that Alexia doesn’t want you. She doesn’t love you) I replied firmly, trying to keep my voice steady.

Marina’s expression shifted, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “¿Es así? Entonces, ¿por qué me invitó a su casa mañana por la noche?” (Is that so? Then why did she invite me over to her house tomorrow night?) she sneered, clearly enjoying the confusion that flashed across my face.

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I furrowed my brows in disbelief. Why would Alexia invite Marina over tomorrow night? My mind raced with questions, doubts creeping in despite my best efforts to push them away.

“Es cierto” (That’s right) Marina continued, her voice dripping with malice. “Te lo dije, no te la mereces. ¿De verdad crees que alguien como Alexia se enamoraría de alguien como tú?” (I told you, you don’t deserve her. You really think someone like Alexia would fall in love with someone like you?)

Her words cut deep, and for a moment, I felt the weight of insecurity settle over me. I stood there, struggling to find a response, still reeling from the idea of Alexia inviting Marina over. My confidence wavered, and I started to question everything.

But before I could say anything, Alexia suddenly appeared in the doorway, her presence instantly calming me. She strode over to us with a determined look, positioning herself between me and Marina as if shielding me from the venomous words that had just been spoken.

“Sal de mi apartamento” (Get out of my apartment) Alexia said coldly, her voice firm and unyielding as she stared Marina down.

Marina’s confident smirk faltered, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. “¿Qué? ¿Por qué?” (What? Why?) she stammered, her voice suddenly uncertain.

“No le hablas así. No te amo, no te quiero y nunca lo haré” (You don’t talk to her like that. I don’t love you, I don’t want you, and I never will) Alexia said with a calm but fierce determination. Her words were like a declaration, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “Ella es la única que quiero—nadie más” (She’s the only one I want—no one else) she continued, her finger pointing at me with unwavering certainty.

“Pero… me invitaste a tu casa mañana por la noche para una cita” (But... you invited me over tomorrow night for a date) Marina sputtered, her voice wavering as the realization that she’d misread the situation started to sink in.

“No,” Alexia corrected, her tone icy. “Te invité para hablar sobre la forma en que has estado tratando a Y/N. Pero ahora, lo dejaré muy claro: no debes acercarte an ella, a mí ni a mi hermana nunca máss” (I invited you over to discuss the way you’ve been treating Y/N. But now, I’ll make this very clear—you are not to go near her, me, or my sister ever again.) Alexia’s voice grew more intense, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to Marina, her presence radiating protectiveness.

Relief flooded through me as her words sank in. The doubt that had momentarily clouded my mind vanished, replaced by a deep sense of trust. Of course, Alexia hadn’t invited Marina over for a date. I couldn’t believe I had doubted her, even for a second.

“Ahora, sal de mi apartamento antes de que te lo haga” (Now, get out of my apartment before I make you) Alexia added, her voice low and filled with menace.

Marina looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her tough exterior had crumbled, and all that was left was a girl who had overplayed her hand. She nodded quickly, not daring to argue further, and hurried out of the apartment.

As soon as she was gone, Alexia turned to me, her expression softening. She gently cupped my face in her hands, her touch warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. The tension that had been building up inside me melted away in her embrace, and I felt safe, secure.

“Don’t thank me, cariño,” Alexia murmured into my hair. “I should have cut her off the moment you told me what she said to you the other night.” She pressed a tender kiss to the top of my head, and I sighed contentedly.

She pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my cheeks as she studied my face. “¿Necesitas un minuto? ¿O estás lista para volver con los demás?” (Do you need a minute? Or are you ready to go back to the others?) she asked, her thumb gently brushing across my skin in a soothing gesture.

I smiled, feeling lighter and more at ease than I had in a long time. “It’s okay. We can go back,” I told her, feeling genuinely relieved and happy that Marina was finally out of our lives for good.

We made our way back to the living room, where the atmosphere had shifted to one of curiosity and confusion. All eyes were on us as we walked in.

Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with bewilderment. “¿Qué demonios acaba de pasar? Marina salió corriendo del apartamento sin decir una palabra” (What the hell just happened? Marina just bolted out of the apartment without saying a word.)

Alexia and I exchanged a glance before explaining everything that had just unfolded. As we told the story, the shock on everyone’s faces was clear.

“Qué perra. Mejor así” (What a bitch. Good riddance) Mark muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No puedo creer que la invité a Bali con nosotros.”(I can’t believe I invited her to Bali with us) Bianca said with a look of disgust. The rest of the group nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring her revulsion.

One by one, they began apologizing for not realizing sooner how much Marina’s presence had affected me. I finally opened up about how it had hurt when they invited her to Bali, how it made me feel like I was being replaced.

They immediately jumped in with reassurances, insisting that they would never replace me and pulling me into a group hug that felt sincere and warm.

I could see that they genuinely felt bad, especially Alba. She looked particularly upset and even joked that the next time she saw Marina, she wouldn’t hesitate to punch her.

Her words made us all laugh, and I felt a sense of closure, knowing that I was surrounded by people who truly cared about me.

After playing a few more rounds of games, the night slowly came to an end. One by one, everyone said their goodbyes, leaving with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug.

Once Alba hugged me, she leaned in slightly and whispered in my ear, “Diviértete” (Have fun) with a playful tone. She then pulled away, her face lit up with a mischievous grin. I responded by playfully slapping her on the shoulder, grinning as I did.

The laughter and conversation that had filled Alexia’s apartment gradually faded, leaving a peaceful quiet in their wake.

Once it was just the two of us, Alexia and I made our way to her bedroom. She handed me a set of comfortable clothes to sleep in, and as I changed, I couldn’t help but smile at how natural and easy everything felt with her. It was like we’d been doing this forever.

We settled into bed together, a cozy movie playing in the background, but my attention was focused more on Alexia than the screen.

I nestled against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat under my ear. Her hand moved slowly through my hair, each gentle stroke lulling me into a deeper state of relaxation.

Occasionally, her lips would brush against my forehead, the soft, fleeting kisses sending a warmth through me that I couldn’t quite put into words.

In that moment, I felt completely at ease, more relaxed than I’d been in a long time. Everything seemed to be falling into place—except for one lingering question that kept nudging at the back of my mind.

What exactly were Alexia and I now? We acted like a couple, sharing these intimate moments, but she hadn’t officially asked me to be her girlfriend.

And maybe I should be the one to ask her, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I decided to push it aside for now.

I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow during our date, I reassured myself. Right now, lying here with her, I felt so content and happy that I didn’t want to spoil the moment with overthinking. This was our time, and I wanted to savor every second of it.

As the night went on, the movie became a soft hum in the background, and I found myself drifting off to sleep, still wrapped in Alexia’s arms. Her presence was comforting, her touch soothing, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so safe, so cherished.

When I finally closed my eyes, I fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of my life, knowing that tomorrow would bring the answers I needed. But for now, I was simply happy being right where I was, with her.

——

I woke up to the sensation of soft kisses being placed all over my face.

“Wake up, amor,” I heard Alexia’s raspy voice whispering close to my ear.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Alexia gazing at me with a gentle and affectionate look. “Bon dia,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

“I’m awake,” I replied, stretching and rubbing my eyes after a few moments.

“Puedes arreglarte primero; yo te esperaré” (You can freshen up first; I’ll wait for you) she said with a tender kiss on my forehead before she left the room.

Breakfast was a delightful affair, filled with Alexia’s amazing cooking. We enjoyed a spread of delicious food, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how well she cooked. The meal was accompanied by laughter and stories from her recent trip to Mexico.

After breakfast, we spent a relaxed morning together—watching TV, laughing, and sharing affectionate moments until it was time to head out for our date.

Alexia had once again let me borrow some of her clothes. I adored her style, and her clothes always had that lovely, comforting scent.

“You look beautiful,” Alexia said, taking in my outfit with a warm, appreciative gaze as I blushed.

“Thank you, Ale. You look beautiful too,” I replied, smiling back at her. She responded with a soft, loving smile, holding out her hands for me to take.

“Vamos, mi amor,” she said, intertwining our fingers and giving me a sweet kiss before we left the apartment.

On the way to her car, Alexia was full of affectionate gestures—opening doors for me, kissing my cheek and lips, and showering me with compliments.

Once we were in the car, her hand settled on my knee—a gesture that had become a comforting habit.

After a short drive, we arrived at the restaurant, and I couldn’t help but beam with happiness. It was the same place where we had first met. I looked at her with a knowing smile.

“I love this place. How did you know?” I teased playfully.

“Lucky guess,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

We walked hand in hand to the restaurant, our fingers interlaced. Once seated at our table, we placed our orders and chatted eagerly as we waited for our food.

Our hands remained intertwined on the table as we talked about everything under the sun, savoring each other’s company.

When our food finally arrived—I had, of course, ordered the paella—we eagerly dug in. Amid the conversation, I found myself hesitating to bring up a topic that had been on my mind. Alexia had expressed a desire for us to officially date and for her to be my girlfriend while we were in Australia, but she hadn’t asked me directly since then. I wondered where we stood.

Suddenly, Alexia broke the silence with a question that took me by surprise. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

I stared at her, momentarily stunned and caught off guard. “What?” I managed to say, my mind still racing.

Alexia smiled gently and repeated, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Looking at her with a mix of excitement and affection, I replied, “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Her face lit up with joy as she laughed softly. Leaning across the table, we shared a passionate kiss.

When she pulled back, she whispered “I’m so in love with you”

She’s in love with me. I’ve been waiting for what feels like an eternity to hear those exact words from her. When she finally spoke them, it was like a dream come true.

The way her eyes lit up as she confessed her feelings, and the warmth in her voice made my heart soar.

It felt absolutely incredible to finally hear those words, to know that her love for me is as deep and true as I had always hoped.

“I’m so in love with you too,” I responded, leaning in once more for another kiss.

Words failed to capture the overwhelming happiness I felt in that moment. I was brimming with joy.

“I can’t believe we met at this restaurant, you friend-zoned me here, and now you’ve asked me to be your girlfriend here,” I said, laughing softly as we pulled away from our kiss.

She smiled warmly and joked, “Maybe we’ll get married at this restaurant too.” The idea of marriage made my heart race. We had only been officially together for less than 15 minutes, and here we were, already talking about marriage.

Well, spoiler alert: we didn’t end up getting married at that restaurant, but Alexia did propose to me there, turning that place into a cherished spot in our story.

FIN

[ragingbookdragon]

Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.

“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”

She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”

“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”

“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.

“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”

“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”

Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”

She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”

“He feels bad.”

“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”

Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”

She cocks a brow. “Okay?”

“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”

“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”

“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”

She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”

“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“

“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.

“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”

He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”

“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”

“Does it ever just feel like that?”

“…no.”

Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”

She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”

“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”

She shrugs.

Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”

“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”

“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”

She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”

Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”

“You really think he will?”

“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”

She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”

Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”

“But the Lieutenant—”

“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”

[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 6

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2521 Click here for Part 5

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The next morning Y/N and Noah were packed and ready for their departure, with Lando loading everything into the car. He had insisted on bringing them and thankfully they were leaving from a private area of the airport, so he didn’t worry too much about crowds.

The drive was filled with light chatter and laughter, Lando making an effort to engage Noah in conversation. He pointed out various spots and shared a few facts he knew about the city, trying to make the journey as enjoyable as possible for the little boy.

As they neared the airport, Lando decided it was the right moment to bring up the topic that had been on his mind. He glanced over at Y/N who nodded in encouragement and with a deep breath Lando started talking to the boy in the backseat. “Hey Noah, I wanted to tell you something important before you two leave.”

The boy looked up from his toy car he was playing with. “Yes?”

“Well, you know how you and your mom have been so amazing to me?” Lando smiled warmly, trying to keep his tone casual and friendly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you both this weekend and I want to tell you something.”

Noah tilted his head slightly, waiting for Lando to continue. “What’s that?”

Y/N took the driver’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze but she could see in Lando’s face that the Brit had no idea how to approach the topic. “Lando and I have been getting to know each other better and we’ve been having a lot of fun. He asked me if he could be more than just a friend to us and I said yes. So, he’s going to be mommy’s boyfriend now.”

“I know this might be new for you, but I want you to know that I’m really happy to be spending time with you and your mom. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even better and I hope we can have lots of fun together,” Lando directed at the boy, his expression nervous but hopeful. 

Noah’s eyes widened a bit as he processed the news. “Does this mean you’re going to be around more? And can we come visit you at more races?”

Lando’s face lit up with a broad smile. “Yes, I’d love for you and your mom to come visit me at more races, it would be fantastic to have you both there. I’ll make sure to have some fun stories and maybe even a few surprises for you.”

Y/N watched the exchange with a heart full of affection and relief. She could see that Noah was beginning to warm up to the idea, even though the 4-year-old probably didn’t fully understand what it all meant, and Lando’s genuine care was making this a positive conversation too.

When they arrived at the airport and Y/N went to get their boarding passes Lando and Noah found a quiet corner near the check-in area, away from other people. The young man crouched down to the boy's level, giving him his full attention.

“Noah,” Lando said gently, “I know this is a lot to take in. It’s okay to feel a bit unsure about things changing and not fully understanding it but I want you to know that I’m here because I really care about you and your mom. If you ever have any questions or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.”

“I’m not nervous. I think it’s going to be great and you really seem to like us.”

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes warm. “I like you two very much! And if you ever feel unsure, just let me know. We can always talk about it.”

The kid’s face suddenly brightened with an idea. “That means you could come to my next birthday! It’s not for a long while but it would be really cool if you could come!”

“Wow,” Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, he surely didn’t expect to get an invite to a birthday party already, “that sounds fantastic! I’d love to come to your party. I’ll check my schedule once we get closer to make sure I can make it. But if for some reason I can’t be there, I promise I’ll throw you a special party at the paddock. We’ll make it extra fun and I’ll make sure it’s something you’ll remember.”

Noah’s face lit up with excitement. “That sounds awesome! I hope you can come but I’d love the paddock party too.”

Y/N returned with the boarding passes, her face showing relief when she saw and overheard the supportive exchange between Lando and Noah. She joined them, giving Lando a grateful smile. “Thanks for being so understanding, Lando. I’m sure he will be thrilled whether you make it to his party or if we have to do the paddock celebration.”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun no matter what ,” Lando smiled back at her, “but I don’t want to have to wait that long to see you two again…”

After they finished up their goodbyes Lando watched as Y/N and Noah made their way to the gate. He felt excited about the future and the first thing he would do when he was on his next flight was to check his calendar for his days off.

_____

It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon a few short months later and the Formula 1 world was buzzing with its usual pre-race speculation and excitement. The latest headlines were filled with updates about team strategies, driver performances and the occasional juicy rumor. 

At 2:00 PM the first hint of something significant emerged on social media. A tweet from a sports journalist read: "News coming out of the McLaren camp. Stay tuned!" The hashtag #LandoOffTheMarket began trending and at 2:30 PM, a series of paparazzi photos were released, showing Lando, Y/N and her four-year-old son, Noah, enjoying a casual day out. 

The images captured the trio in a heartfelt moment: Y/N holding Lando’s hand, his arm slung around her neck casually but tightly, while the toddler sat on the driver’s shoulders, Lando’s other hand securely holding on to the boy’s tiny leg to keep him in place and Noah’s little hands wrapped around the man’s neck while his head leaned softly onto the driver’s. A big smile adorned all of their faces.

The immediate reaction was a wave of shock, excitement and curiosity. Fans and media outlets scrambled to learn more about Y/N and her son, who had previously been unknown to the public. 

Social media platforms immediately were flooded with comments about the sweet new addition to Lando’s life. “Noah is the cutest!” and “Lando’s little family is absolutely adorable!” were among the most read comments. Photos of Noah, with his wide-eyed wonder and charming smile, quickly became a tiny sensation and fan pages dedicated to Lando began posting collages and edits featuring all three of them.

They praised Lando for his new role as a father figure and expressed their adoration for the young boy who had captured their hearts and many fans eagerly awaited any glimpses of Noah in future posts but also were quick to defend the family from invasive or negative comments.

For Lando, Y/N, and Noah the announcement marked a new chapter. What had started as a private romance was now thrust into the world, changing the dynamics of their lives in ways they had yet to fully comprehend. However, Lando and Y/N tried their best to handle their relationship as normal as possible.

With Lando being away for races their days were filled with text messages, Lando’s messages often included snapshots from his busy days at McLaren. He would send a photo of himself and his team, a behind-the-scenes glimpse of his gear or the track or a funny moment from the garage. 

Meanwhile Y/N would send images of her and her son, whether it was Noah’s latest art project, a day at the park or a cozy evening on the couch. Lando’s favorite ones though were Y/N sharing how she and Noah were watching one of Lando’s races together, cheering him on.

_____

A few weeks later it was Y/N and Noah’s first visit to a race since news of their relationship had hit the headlines. From the McLaren motorhome Lando spotted them making their way through the paddock and walked towards them, beaming brightly. Y/N was holding Noah’s hand, guiding him through the crowd. However, the photographers, drawn by the media frenzy over Lando and Y/N’s relationship, were relentless. Flashes from cameras and invasive questions quickly created an overwhelming atmosphere.

Noah soon became frightened by the flashing lights and the amount of people around him. His face turned pale and tears began streaming down his cheeks as he clung to Y/N’s leg, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Seeing Noah’s distress and Y/N’s struggle, Lando’s protective instincts kicked in. He pushed through the crowd, his voice rising above the noise. “Give them some space! Back off!” he shouted angrily. The photographers reluctantly stepped back, though they continued to snap photos from a distance. 

“Noah, buddy, it’s okay,” the driver said gently, kneeling down to Noah’s level. “We’re going to get you away from all these cameras.”

Noah, his face flushed and tear-streaked, looked up at Lando with fear. “I don’t like it… too many lights…”

Lando’s heart ached. Without hesitation he lifted him up into his arms, holding him close and trying to calm him down. “It’s alright, Noah. I’m here. We’ll find a quiet place.”

Y/N followed Lando as he carried Noah through the paddock. The tension and anger Lando felt were evident and everyone around them could sense his frustration. Reaching the McLaren hospitality area just a few short moments later Lando handed Noah a juice box, hoping to soothe him. “Here you go, buddy. This should help.”

Noah took the juice, his sobs gradually subsiding as he sipped. Lando, seeing that Noah was starting to calm down, turned to one of the team assistants. “Can you please take them to one of the offices? They could use a quieter spot to relax for a second.”

The assistant nodded and gently guided Y/N and Noah away, Lando watching them with anger boiling inside him. He then stormed into his and Oscar’s driver’s room section, slamming the door behind him. Oscar, who had witnessed the scene, followed him in.

“Everything okay?” Oscar asked as he entered the room.

Lando paced back and forth, his fists clenched. “Those photographers,” he began, his voice rising. “They were relentless! They had no regard for Noah, no sense of decency. It was like they were more interested in scaring him than taking decent photos.”

Oscar watched as Lando’s anger poured out. “It’s one thing for me having to deal with the media but to see them treating a child like that… It’s infuriating. I just wanted Y/N and Noah to have a nice day and they ruined it!”

Oscar nodded, understanding the depth of Lando’s frustration. “You did everything you could to get Noah out of there and make sure he was ok. Unfortunately sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lando stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I just hate feeling so powerless and unable to protect them from this.”

“They will be fine, mate. Let’s focus on the race and try to enjoy the time you have with them.”

Lando nodded, taking a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t shake the anger he felt but he was determined to channel it into a positive outcome. 

_____

As the race day wound down and the paddock was slowly emptying out Lando seemed detached. His usual bright demeanor was replaced with a contemplative silence that Y/N noticed immediately.

She watched him from across the paddock, his gaze distant as he stared at the now empty track. After making sure Noah was taken care of Y/N walked over to him, concern etched on her face. “Is everything okay?” she asked softly.

Lando turned to her and she could see the exhaustion and vulnerability on his face. “I just... I don’t know, Y/N. Today was supposed to be special and instead it felt like I failed in so many ways. I see how the media affected Noah and I can’t shake the feeling that maybe it’s not worth it, us being together, with everything that comes with it.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She reached out and gently cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Lando, listen to me. I know things were a bit chaotic this morning and I know it’s hard sometimes with all the attention but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“But what if this life isn’t fair to you and Noah? What if it’s too much?” Lando’s eyes met hers, searching for reassurance. 

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her courage to say what she had wanted to say for a while now but was too shy yet to admit to both herself and him. “Lando, I love you,” she finally let him know, feeling relieved that the words were now out. “I love you so much that I’m willing to face the challenges that come with being with you. Noah loves you too. He was a bit scared today but he looks up to you. He thinks you’re the coolest person ever, you’re his idol.”

Tears glistened in Lando’s eyes, touched by her words. “I love you too, Y/N, so much, both of you,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you for a long time and hearing you say that makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. You both mean the world to me. I just don’t want to be the reason you or Noah are unhappy.”

Y/N’s expression softened as she wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “We’re not unhappy, Lando. We’re just learning how to navigate this. What we have is worth it. Your love, it means everything to us and the challenges are just part of it.”

Lando pulled Y/N into a tight embrace, his heart swelling still hearing those three words over and over again in his head. 

Noah had been playing with an engineer who had taken a break from helping pack up the equipment to entertain him. His laughter filled the air as he enjoyed the playful distraction and when Lando’s gaze fell upon him, the toddler’s eyes sparkled with joy. He ran towards Lando who picked him up with one arm while still having the other one securely around Y/N, embracing them tightly. 

“I’m so lucky to have you both,” Lando murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I promise to do everything I can to make sure you’re both happy and safe, always.”

Y/N leaned in and kissed Lando’s cheek. “And we’re lucky to have you. We’ll get through this together.”

_________

Click here for Part 7!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @destinyg237 @jaydensluv @hc-dutch @alana4610

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 14

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 9.7k

warnings: a LOT of bodyshaming and fathobia and sexism

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 14/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“I hope you know that I appreciate all the things you’ve been telling me. I know it can’t be easy, all the things you’ve gone through. So I appreciate it, even if I unfortunately…”

“Don’t have much to say?” you smile at him as you turn to close his bedroom door behind you.

“Yeah. It’s a lot different than when I’m talking to someone who maybe just got out of a… situation because, while that’s always hard, you just have to listen and assure them they did the right thing, going to the cops and that we’ll guide them through the rest and hopefully help them get justice. That it wasn’t their fault, you know? But you know all that already, and I’m not much help; in fact, I was a big part of your problem and going to the police probably made it worse in your case because we let you down instead of helping you.”

It’s sad, the way he says it, reaching for the collar of his t-shirt at the back of his neck. He pulls it over his head before he suddenly stops, the shirt stuck across his lowered arms. You meet his deer-in-the-headlights eyes and see how it dawns on him that despite explaining earlier that he wants to keep his shirt on–at least with you in the house?–he hasn’t actually been committing to that promise. You wonder if it had anything to do with his scars, if he wanted to spare you from seeing them or just not risk you being uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, take it off,” you comment casually, “but do know that I might warm my cold feet against your skin.”

He grins, finally removing the shirt entirely and throwing it onto the chair in the corner. “Feel free.”

Flicking the lights off, Jeongguk joins you in the dark, getting under the duvet and getting comfortable.

It’s silent for a while, and you’re halfway between sleep and consciousness when Jeongguk says something you definitely weren’t expecting.

“Are you still scared of me?”

You roll over to face him, even though the room is almost pitch black.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I think that I will always be aware… of what you can do. Even right now, if you in this moment decided to hurt me, there would be nothing I could do about it. I can spend my days in the gym but odds are a vast majority of men could overpower me anyway. If I were to trust my gut, it would say that you’re a… good guy, but I know that most women murdered by a man they knew or even their male partners didn’t fall for someone openly abusive. They’re sweet at the start, and then they change. Hoseong was like that too; kind until he wasn’t. I know you know that because he fooled you too.

“When it comes to you, I think the only reason I’m here with you is because of what you did that night. I would’ve found any reason to believe that you were still playing a game of making me trust you, just waiting for the right moment to strike, if I hadn’t seen you fight them. No matter how talented of an actor you are, they were prepared to kill you, and you… were prepared to die.

“And this…” you move your hand under the sheets, tentatively finding his chest and the scar. “I don’t like looking at it, and it feels like it’s my fault your mom almost lost her son, but it’s also… almost a relief. I don’t have to second-guess if you really want to help me or if it’s just a long con to… finish something. But like I said… just because you haven’t tried to kill me yet doesn’t statistically mean you won’t. I don’t think you will, but then again, there are a lot of dead women who probably wouldn’t have imagined their murderer being someone they knew.”

Jeongguk places his hand over yours on his chest. “For what it’s worth, I could never hurt you. I know I did; that I hurt you emotionally and scared you, but not even when I thought you were the most selfish person on the planet would I have physically hurt you.”

“I will let the fact that I came to live with you speak for how I feel about you, or at least want to feel about you. Also the fact that I’m sleeping in your bed with you.”

“That you find me entirely irresistible, dying to be close to me at all times?”

You roll your eyes, however, blood rushes to your cheeks. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good that we’re on the same page then, cause I’m kinda stuck on the fact that you kissed me.”

Inevitably, your cheeks warm up further, but it’s okay since it’s dark anyway.

“I did. It was a good kiss.”

“Yeah. I totally wouldn’t hate it if you did it again. In fact, I am open to kisses anytime, just as I am hand-holding.”

“You’re sure? Even from me?”

You hate that you have to ask, but… you do.

“Absolutely.”

You consider it for a moment, but eventually decide to trust his words, at least tonight. Empowered by the dark, you move your hand from his chest. It travels over his warm neck before it reaches his jaw. Your heart beats so hard you’re almost convinced he can hear it, but you ignore it and move closer. Despite the dark, you see his face and how he’s smiling, patiently waiting. It’s both a blessing and a hellish curse how handsome he is; he truly takes your breath away. 

Using your hand, you move your hair away, and you lean down to connect your lips. His are so soft, and he kisses you back so sweetly, letting you set the pace. You move your mouth against his, pulling back an inch just to do it again. Jeongguk lets his hand hold your waist, and even though kissing him is… a dream, you’re reminded that there’s a limit you’re not comfortable crossing.

So you pull back, but you still let him hold your waist.

“There.”

You fall asleep quicker than the nights before. A few hours later–and a few hours before morning–you blink your eyes open, finding yourself entangled with him. You’ve got your arm thrown over his middle, your cheek resting on his naked chest, right below his chin, and one of your legs lies between his.

For a while, you listen to his breaths, thinking about what it is that you’re doing. He’s so warm, and he feels so… safe, but there’s still a certain thought in your head.

When you wake up the next time, you’re once again alone in Jeongguk’s bed, and the first thought crossing your mind is how unnecessary boarding up your window really was when you’re practically almost always sleeping in his bed these days. Also, does he count on being able to hear a potential intruder trying to break in through his window? Because there is one, and it’s definitely not boarded up.

Your curiosity grows when you hear Jeongguk move throughout the house, and the sound of a…. what is that?

Rolling out of his bed, you yawn as you open the bedroom door to almost run head first into a stressed-looking Jeongguk. The sound you heard you identify as the now turned off blow dryer, something you’ve borrowed yourself but never seen him use. Looking up, you realize that, yeah, his hair is still wet from a shower and blow drying it means that he either doesn’t want to wait for it to air dry or he can’t.

“You’re going to the station?” you ask, noticing that he is actually indeed wearing his dark blue, almost black uniform.

“Yeah, uh, multiple trafficking victims on their way. Want to be there before they arrive.”

A very specific feeling moves through your chest; an uncomfortable sadness that someone has most likely been through hell, but there’s a warmth there too, for Jeongguk.

“What are you looking for?”

He looks around, patting his pockets, “Uhm, I have my phone, wallet, house keys. I need the… bike key and the helmet. The helmet is probably in the garage, but I’m not sure where the key is.”

You blink, trying to remember what jacket he was wearing the last time you recall him using the bike. The leather one, right? You step up to the coat rack, looking through the jackets until you find it. Swiftly, you search the pockets until… 

“Found it. Do I put it in your uniform jacket?”

“Oh, thank you. Yes, please,” he says over the sound of the blow dryer that he grabs once more.

You watch him dry his hair, incessantly running his fingers through it to speed up the process. A few minutes later, he turns the machine off and runs his fingers through the black hair one last time, “It’ll have to do.”

Then, he’s gathering his stuff, taking the jacket from your hands and heading toward the door leading to the garage as he throws it on. “Not sure when I’ll be back, it might take a while cause I don’t know how many they are or what they’ve been through, but I can update you?”

“Jeongguk?”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Come here for a second.”

Confused, he takes the four steps until he’s in front of you looking down curiously but a little stressed at you.

You smile at him, at how pretty and caring he is. “Be careful.”

He grins, a little surprised. “I always am. But it’s mostly just letting them talk and writing it all down, and–”

“I meant on the road. With the bike. I know you can handle the case.”

“Oh. Will do.”

For a millisecond, he looks at you, his bottom lip bitten. Then he’s pulling you closer by your waist, pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll see you later.”

With warm cheeks, you watch him enter the garage, thinking of his kind, brown eyes. You don’t know what to feel.

When Jeongguk returns, he’s angry. He doesn’t say much except frustratingly relaying that apparently, one of the women had called the police about a creepy neighbor appearing to watch her house six months ago. The two officers sent did absolutely nothing at all. Couldn’t offer any protection, didn’t talk to the neighbor, couldn’t even give the woman any advice, just left. Two weeks later, the neighbor takes her. You understand Jeongguk’s frustration toward the system, but when he’s spent two hours in the gym without any kind of break, you decide to check up on him.

You hear the brutal beating of the punching bag long before you spot him.

“How are you doing? You’ve been in here a while…”

Jeongguk stops and looks at you from behind the sand-filled bag, breathing heavily. He’s shirtless, and there’s sweat covering his skin and wetting his hair.

“I’m alright.”

But you can tell that he’s frustrated by the turmoil in his eyes. Although it’s hot to see him work out, you don’t like seeing him like this. It has an uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach.

“You’re doing what you can.”

“Yet there’s always more to do. It never ends, and it’s never enough.”

He’s definitely right about that, but does it help to be so worked up about it? Or are you the weird one, more likely to go apathetic when reminded of the injustices of the world these days?

“But you did your part today, and I know you made an impact in their lives.”

He looks disappointedly at the sandbag, as if your words didn’t affect him at all.

“Hey,” you call softly. He looks at you.

“If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

‘Right now’ as in alive.

“But I–”

“If you never transferred, they would’ve gotten me at this point.”

“Bare minimum,” is all he mumbles.

“It meant a lot to me. Everything, actually. And I’m really grateful.”

At that, he finally smiles a little, and you find yourself dangerously lost in his eyes again.

Thirty minutes later, at nine p.m., the power goes out. You stop what you’re doing, your hand, holding the kettle frozen in mid air over the mug. Even the very, very low humming of the fridge and freezer stops. You put the kettle down, glad that you probably managed to fill your mug with enough tea water.

Where is your roommate? Last you heard, he was about to take a shower. 

“Jeongguk?” you call, but the moment you peek out into the hallway, you run straight into him, still wet from the shower and with a towel around his hips, you think. 

“What happened?” he asks, his hands steadying your elbows.

“Uh? I don’t know? I was pouring tea and the lights and everything went out.”

“Oh? So that means it wasn’t our doing. I’ll check if there’s a blown fuse; you never know.”

“Okay,” you pat the pockets of your sweatpants, “Here’s my phone if you want a flashlight.”

“Thanks,” he nods, grabbing it from your hand.

He taps the screen to turn the flashlight function on, the light pointed down immediately illuminating every little crevice in his abs and the glints of water still on his skin. The white towel hangs low, exposing a bit of a happy trail.

You look away, and Jeongguk, seemingly none the wiser, turns around to find the fuse box somewhere other than in the kitchen, guided by your phone.

Sighing to yourself the moment you’re alone again, you go back to your tea, removing the bag from the mug. Opening the fridge, you’re once again reminded of how dependent on electricity you are when the open door doesn’t trigger the built in light. Still, you find the milk, and you manage to pour a little bit into the mug and put the container back in the still chilly fridge.

By the time you finish stirring the tea spoon around, you hear Jeongguk’s steps approaching you, and you see the ray of light illuminate the floor in front of him.

“No blown fuses. I’m gonna see if there’s anything on the provider’s site or else I’ll give them a call.”

“Are you gonna get dressed as well, or?” you joke, watching him smile cheekily. 

“Yeah. I was just barely done washing my hair when the light went out.”

“I can see that; you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Sorry,” he says and shakes his head like a dog, launching drops of water at your clothes and face. 

 “Jeongguk!”

Laughing, he leaves the kitchen and steps out into the dark.

“What if I slip and fall?” you call after him, wiping the drops from your face before returning to your mug to take a test sip. It tastes good, but you’ll definitely try to remember to buy honey next time you go grocery shopping because you’re a sucker for a little sweetness.

Half a minute later, you hear footsteps approaching, and when you turn around from the sink, Jeongguk is drying the floor with the towel he was just using, now wearing what looks like a pair of sweatpants of his own. He doesn’t say anything, just makes sure the floor is dry and then he leaves again, much to your amusement. Like you said; you’re a sucker for sweetness.

While he’s gone, you use your phone’s flashlight to pour the rest of the water into another mug in case Jeongguk wants some tea too. Then you venture carefully into the living room, trying not to spill the hot contents. It goes without accidents, and so you set the mug down onto the coffee table before reaching for the remote. Which doesn’t work. 

“Fuck, no TV,” you mutter to yourself. And you’ve used your laptop without the charger all day. Even more fuck.

“Jeongguk, is your laptop charged?” you call out, praying to the gods.

“Uh, yeah,” he appears behind you, having matched a black hoodie to his gray sweatpants.

He’s holding something in his arms, a lot of smaller things. Candles, you realize when he leans down to gently dump them onto the table. From his pocket he then produces a lighter.

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, lighting the candles one by one, the coziness factor doubling with every flame added.

“I was gonna watch this documentary, but my laptop isn’t charged,” you pout. “Oh, and also, the Wifi won’t work.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Mine should be fully charged. And we can use my mobile data.”

Wow, way to flex.

“Great. I made tea, do you want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

While he goes to grab his laptop, you return to the kitchen to fix his mug of tea as well, returning as he’s setting everything up, the screen illuminating his face where he sits on the couch. The flickering candles are doing their best too, casting a more yellowy glow across the room.

“Thanks,” he says once more when you place the mug in front of him. “Here.” 

You accept the laptop, navigating to the specific streaming site and the documentary released just last week about the development of the space shuttles. Due to the size difference between Jeongguk’s TV and that of his laptop, you take your seat closer to him than usual.

Jeongguk sips his tea, but the moment he’s put the mug back safely on the table and is leaning back against the couch and watching the screen, he slowly lets his hand find yours. 

In turn, you find yourself moving closer, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smells nice, and he feels nice. And it’s suddenly like someone started some kind of wordless game. You don’t say anything, but there’s also a kind of tension that builds, no less in your body. 

Perhaps also feeling the… electricity building, Jeongguk makes his next move, this time slowly lifting his arm to put around you, making you lean against his chest instead. The action has his hoodie riding up just a little, exposing a sliver of his stomach.

When it’s your turn again–and you feel your shared anticipation grow–you try to psych yourself up. He likes you, he likes you. 

So, you place your hand on the exposed section of skin, caressing it carefully with your thumb.

Besides the documentary, it’s quiet, although you’re almost positive Jeongguk can hear your heart beat erratically; it’s definitely beating loudly in your ears. For his next turn, Jeongguk somehow both swiftly and slowly pulls you onto his lap, and before you know it, you’re straddling him, staring down at his smiling face.

The narrator speaks in the background, but you can only focus on Jeongguk and how your heart might soon beat its way out of your chest. 

You could kiss him. You could.

He looks at you like he’s hoping for it but not expecting it, and you pray to God he actually does want you to. Because you want to kiss him so badly. 

He’s got his gentle hands on your thighs, and you place yours softly on his face, holding his jaw and rubbing your thumbs slowly over his cheeks. Until you move one thumb and press it even softer against his lips.

This man is too good to be true, he has to be. As you let your eyes admire him, you think about the fact that, even if you disregard how he literally took a sword to the heart for you, he’s done more for you in the short period of time you’ve known him than any other man in your life.

So you move your finger from his mouth, nervously switching it out for your lips. You can’t even describe how much you like kissing him. When it’s sweet and innocent and just lips and a wordless confession of ‘I like you,’ or when you use a little tongue, and he chooses to follow your lead, kissing you back with the same growing heat. But there’s still something bothering you that you can’t ignore.

In the midst, you pull back an inch, eyes glued to his lips to avoid his eyes. “I like kissing you, but… “

“But what?” he wonders, his hands drawing innocent shapes on your thighs. Your heart pumps even harder as you choose your next words.

“I’m not really your type.”

He smiles, looking carefree, “You are. I think you’re a sweet girl.”

Jeongguk kisses you again, and you try not to think about it, but even with his lips against yours, it’s hard. A sweet girl. Letting one of your hands fall from his face, you grab the collar of his hoodie, clumsily placing your hand inside it to touch his chest, feeling for the scar.

Taking it as you wanting it off, he pulls away to yank the hoodie over his head, and it ends up somewhere toward the end of the couch. Even without it, his bare skin is just as warm under your hands, but before you know it, you’re on your back on the couch, and he’s above you. He’s very sweet, and in this moment–with your hands splayed across his back and the scar there–you know he won’t hurt you. 

A sweet girl.

Right?

A sweet girl. You hear the voices and feel the anxiety and fear return to fill you. You go with the flow, unsure of what to think or do. Jeongguk helps you out of your shirt and then your bra, and you watch him sit back to throw them onto the floor somewhere. 

But the moment he returns his attention to you underneath him, he stops. Because you’re covering your naked chest with your hands like your life depends on it, eyes teary and absolutely and helplessly begging him to look anywhere but at you.

He still does, and you can tell he’s surprised, his wide eyes taking in the situation from above you.

So you plead quietly, “Please don’t look at me.” 

It takes half a second, and he’s immediately closing his eyes, turning to feel around for something behind him. Your shirt probably lies somewhere farther away on the floor, and so his black hoodie is what he ends up grabbing, handing it to you still with his eyes closed.

And he of course moves off of you, the only sounds in the room being the documentary, the slight rustling as you’re putting the hoodie on, and your quiet breaths.

When he assumes you’re dressed, he opens his eyes, heart visibly breaking when he sees how absolutely shaken to the core you look, hugging your body and sitting up. You turn your eyes to the documentary on the screen even though both of you know you haven’t been watching it.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts to explain, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, wanting desperately not to make a big deal out of it. If you could just will your hands to stop shaking.

“No, I–”

“Jeongguk, please. I’m fine, okay. I’m not… I’m not ready, but… Can we not talk about it, please?”

Reluctantly, you meet his eyes and see the somber worry in them as he watches you from where he’s sitting, still shirtless.

“Okay. If there’s anything I can do…”

You smile tentatively at him, desperate to move on from the subject, “Watch the rest of the documentary with me?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, “I’ll, uh, go and change so you can get your hoodie back.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Keep it,” he’s quick to rise to his feet, already on his way somewhere–presumably his bedroom.

The forty seconds he’s gone you use to calm your breathing and stabilize your voice. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t going too fast or not listening to you. He listened to what you gave him; you, yourself only figured out where exactly the line was drawn when it was basically already crossed.

He’s wearing a black t-shirt when he returns, taking a seat next to you and focusing his eyes on the screen, probably more so for your sake than his. “I hope you know that you can tell me anything. And I have no certain expectations you have to fulfill or so.”

You already know that he’s not asking sex for rent, if that’s what he’s wondering. But regarding his first statement… there are definitely things you don’t want to talk to him about.

“Yeah,” you answer regardless.

When the credits roll only a few minutes later, you know that you have two options. If you sleep in your own bed like you ideally want to, you risk there being an awkwardness tomorrow and that you definitely don’t want. Or you sleep in his bed with him like you have the last few days, and sure, it might be a little awkward, but he probably realizes you’re not up for cuddling, and it’ll be easier tomorrow.

“Oh. Finally,” Jeongguk exclaims when the ceiling light flickers on, signaling the return of the electricity. “I was starting to worry about all the food in the freezer.”

Subsequently, he leans over the coffee table, blowing out the small candles one after the other. It’s late anyway.

“So, uh…” he rises from the couch, “I’ll keep my door open, but I’m not offended if you choose to sleep in your bedroom.”

“Okay,” you nod at him, watching as he leaves to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

You stand up too, but no matter how much you want to crawl into bed next to him and have him hold you the entire night, you get ready for bed, and you lie down in your own room. You’re still wearing his hoodie because it smells like him, and it ironically brings you comfort. Still, you lie there in the dark, and you think about his face, and his eyes, and his body. His voice, even, and how he might actually be a good guy. Maybe even everything you want, even if it doesn't matter. And you curl up, a few tears running silently down your cheeks. Because Jeon Jeongguk is so very far out of your league, it’s not even funny.

After waking up, you trudge toward the kitchen, still feeling half asleep. After everything that happened yesterday, you still managed to sleep pretty well, most likely because you were exhausted and sleeping alone.

“Morning.”

You stop, hands mid eye-rub. 

“I… thought you’d be at the station?” you say, redirecting your focus to taming your hair. Jeongguk is sitting at the kitchen table, donning a white t-shirt and black, what looks to be cotton, shorts.

“No, I’ll use today to go over some of the potential leads you helped find. Can do that from here.”

He takes a bite of a cupcake, and you catch his eyes linger a second on your body and how a small smile pulls on his lips before he looks into his phone in front of him. Glancing down, you realize that since you didn’t expect him to be home, you didn’t change out of his hoodie so what he saw waddle into the room was you, swallowed by his hoodie, sweater paws rubbing your eyes.

“It, uh, smells good,” you mumble quietly, realizing way too late that it’s not that great of a defense. “But I’ll wash it and you can have it back.”

It smells good because he smells good.

He waves his hand, still looking almost… fond. “It’s okay, keep it as long as you’d like. I have a ton of them.”

“Okay, uh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

At least the awkwardness was for another reason.

You decide to do a bit of laundry, although skipping the black hoodie and hiding it away under your duvet for a little while longer. Doing the laundry, vacuuming most of the house, and emptying the dishwasher takes you almost an hour, and then you find yourself outside Jeongguk’s office, knocking on the open door and peeking inside. 

“Making any progress?”

He lifts his head from the laptop screen and swivels around in his chair to face you, a pen in his hand. 

“No,” he sighs, “I’m looking into the girlfriend angle and so far, we’ve put detectives on a recent ex of Seunghwa’s and on two of Ryung’s flings, but it hasn’t resulted in anything. Regarding Hoseong… I’m not sure I ever actually heard him mention anyone by name, at least not any name that I can seem to match to anyone.”

“What about… I remember him talking about this Jimin?”

“Who’s that? I think we’ve covered most of his friends?”

You search your memory, but it’s hard to remember details. It’s been years since the conversations you try to recall, and as far as you remember, he only mentioned her in passing. “It was a woman, and I think they were more than friends. Or at least she wanted to be.”

“I didn’t even think of that; I only know male Jimins. Tell me more,” he urges, and you can tell he’s trying to recall if there was ever a mention of a Jimin.

“Well, I heard him complain about her a few times; said she was clingy and honestly a little obsessed with him. He made it sound like he didn’t care for her that much. In retrospect–besides being a very red flag–it sounds like something he could’ve said about me when I liked him.”

“Someone who maybe is mostly just a regular woman and would still maybe help them if they’re desperate enough to ask. Or him, at least.”

“Yeah.”

For a few hours, you and Jeongguk work together in his office, and you nearly forget about yesterday’s mishap, trying to find more info on this ‘Jimin.’ Until you find yourself nearly chest to chest with him after turning around too quickly and not expecting him so close. Instead of meeting your eyes sweetly and slowly lowering his head to kiss you like he probably would’ve even yesterday, he smiles and… backs up a few steps. 

“Hey, should we take a break? Have a late lunch?” Jeongguk stretches his arms out in front of him. 

You continue noting down some last names from your phone onto a paper, using the chair Jeongguk wheeled into his office specifically for you as a table while sitting on the floor. “Uh, you go ahead. I had a late breakfast.”

He stands up. “Oh. I didn’t notice.”

“Mhm, you were already in here.”

“I can wait then, and we can eat together.”

“It’s alright; go ahead.”

He mumbles something you don’t quite catch, but he does leave you to your notes and disappears from the office.

For the rest of the day, it’s just as if you’ve taken two or even three steps back. You don’t… touch a lot, and you definitely don’t kiss. A part of you misses it, but another part is relieved that he’s giving you space. He’s still very, very sweet, of course. You didn’t expect anything else.

Like when you open a cupboard, gaze set on a specific mug of his you’ve taken a liking to thanks to the very big ear that prevents the hot tea from burning your hand even through the ceramic. Compared to your male roommate, you’re lacking a little more in the vertical department and for some reason, whoever emptied the dishwasher placed the mug on the top shelf.

You look at it for three seconds, debating on whether you should grab a kitchen chair and climb or simply admit defeat and choose the next best mug. You’re about to go for the latter option when your hero swoops in, wordlessly and casually picking it down for you, a mug of his own raised to his mouth.

“Thank you,” you take the offering from his hand, a smile growing on your lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Or how he’ll still open whatever door you run into for you, to the point that it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to open the automatic doors and hold them open with his hands when he takes you grocery shopping.

And sometimes, you do touch. Whenever he’s quick enough to exit the driver’s seat and open the passenger door for you, he holds his hand out for you, and when you take it, he helps you out as if you can’t step out of the car on your own. 

When you watch a movie, you don’t sit glued to each other, but he’s not scared to gently pull your feet–which you’ve complained all day of being tired–onto his lap to briefly massage them for you. He smiles at you, all crinkle-cornered sparkly-eyed and dimpled. On two short occasions, he holds your hand carefully, something you don’t object to because it feels nice, it really does.

But despite all these things, you still sleep in your bedroom. You don’t lock the door, but you do sleep alone.

Three days after the incident during the power outage, you’ve worked a long day in Jeongguk’s office. Alone, because he had to leave for the station at nine a.m.. You’ve had a lot of time to think, not only today but ever since what happened–and before that honestly–and it’s become very clear that you need to make a decision. Maybe you should simply gather your courage, give it a shot, and tell him how you feel about him, no matter what happens after?

Despite feeling somewhat determined and having some kind of honestly not very thought out plan, you’re anxious, wandering around the house as you wait for him to return. 

An hour before he comes home, you find yourself in front of the washing machine, throwing the black hoodie into it finally. With the machine on, you head into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of wine. It helps a little, and the remaining nerves that still reside in your chest, you decide to just try to ignore.

The sound of his bike is what notifies you of his return, and you leave the kitchen to meet him in the garage, watching as he swings his leg over the bike and takes the black helmet off, holding it under his arm.

“Hey,” he greets when he sees you waiting, a genuine smile on his face. “How was your day?”

“Uh… good. Narrowed down the Jimins a bit, I think.”

“That’s great,” he grins, his elatedness infecting you too, causing you to smile a little hesitantly despite the nerves devouring you. “Have you eaten yet? I know it’s kinda late but if not; I could cook something?” 

He puts the helmet on one of the shelves that line one of the walls, and then he comes to stand before you. 

You keep your eyes on the jacket with the police emblem on it before you peer up at him. A little hesitantly, you reach for the zipper of his jacket, fiddling a little with it.

“I, uh… actually have something else I want to do. Something I’d like to try… If you’re up for it…”

Tentatively, you reach your hand out, fingers pulling down the zipper of his jacket. He watches you curiously, doing nothing to stop you.

“What is it? That you want to do?�� he asks, his warm voice definitely sounding curious but not overly so.

You swallow, deciding to just go for it and slowly placing your arms around his neck, “Well… Do you have any… handcuffs?”

He tilts his head, holding your waist while looking at you, searching. “For me? I do, but we don’t have to do anything; you know that, right?”

“Yeah, but if I really want to? Or maybe you…” you realize that he might just not want to. Like, at all. Oh, how embarrassing.

Seemingly noticing the way you take a step back, lowering your arms from around his neck, he stops you, his hands keeping them there.

“No, no. I’m always willing to let you do whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t mind.”

His encouragement has a more genuine smile pulling on your mouth.

“Meet me in your bedroom then?” you ask, “And bring the cuffs.”

Not waiting for a confirmation, you drop your hands from his neck, and you turn around to head inside the house. Your heart is pounding, going absolutely haywire while you wait for him on the edge of his bed. Maybe you should’ve worn something else? Something other than just a pair of mom jeans and a blue sweater, but it’s too late now, you guess.

He shows up only a minute later, eyes curiously observing the heavy chair you’ve moved from the corner and into the middle of his room. The first thing he does is unbutton the dark blue shirt of his uniform, sliding it down his arms and throwing it onto the bed. You look at his chest and his arms and his stomach, and you see how he notices. This… humble confidence looks so good on him, and it’s so insanely different from how he acted during the mission. You’ve never seen anyone so attractive. 

The next thing he does is approach you where you’re sitting, offering you his hand all while smiling sweetly… but still a little cheekily.

Placing your hand in his, you’re pulled up to your feet, basically chest to chest with him. There’s heat in his gaze, but it’s not scalding; it’s just warm. 

You give in.

“Kiss me?”

He searches your eyes for hidden answers, but you really do want him to kiss you, and so he does. He places one hand on your lower back, moving your body with him as he steps back and sits down on the chair. Ending up sitting across one of his thighs, you open your eyes when he pulls away just enough to speak.  

“I don’t mind you doing… whatever you want to do, if that’s just sitting on my lap or… exploring me. I’m all for it. Do what you want to do. But,” he says, emphasis on that last word. “Only do what you actually want to.”

You nod, and he reaches down to pull something out of his pocket. The handcuffs. You take them from him, pocketing the small key.

“By the way, how did you get out of the cuffs at the house?” you ask, weighing the metal in your hand.

“I went and got another key before. So I threw you one key and kept the other.” 

You feel your forehead crease as you think about what that means. You were only able to relax when you thought he couldn’t hurt you, but he… could? At any point, he could’ve simply unlocked the cuffs himself?

“I didn’t keep a key because I had ulterior motives or anything. I was just worried you might hurt yourself or pass out for real, like, stop breathing and everything, so I needed a way to get to you if that were to happen.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” you admit quietly. It’s true; the fact that you had multiple pairs of handcuffs with you to the house, and they all use the same universal key entirely slipped your mind. “But of course. How stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t stupid. You were under a lot of stress, and I used that to my advantage, hoping you wouldn’t think about it.”

Standing up, you round the chair to kneel behind it. Without having to be asked, Jeongguk puts his hands back and waits for you to cuff them together.

“So I’m tightening these extra hard and making sure I have all keys,” you joke, still fastening them tight enough for him not to be able to slip them off.

“If that’s what you need to feel comfortable. But I hope you know that I’ll always listen to you.”

You nod, maybe more so to yourself when you stand in front of him again. He looks up at you where he sits, shirtless and looking gorgeous and absolutely mouthwatering.

You bite your lip briefly. “Can I… kiss you?”

“Whatever you want,” he grins, a smile that widens when you sit down on one of his thighs again.

“Okay. Close your eyes?”

Without a word, he obeys your request, and you feel yourself get almost hypnotized, looking at him. You’ve truly never seen anyone so stunning, even to the point that you could sit and gaze at him for hours. The best of mankind but still very much a man. You remember how you used to hate him, thinking God wasted this incredible beauty on someone so ugly, but although you’re not entirely sure how you feel about him, you know you don’t hate him.

Carefully, you trace your fingers along his sharp jaw, and despite his eyelashes fluttering, he doesn’t open his eyes. Unable to help yourself and because you truly don’t think he minds, you allow your gaze to drop. His neck is relatively thick, and the veins are only slightly visible compared to when he’s physically active. Your eyes then land on his collarbones. Then his wide, muscular shoulders and pecs. Then the scar, before traveling across his abs.

“You’re so pretty,” you state quietly, looking up at his face just in time to watch him smirk.

“Pretty is for girls; I’m a man.”

You can’t quite explain the emotional wave that hits you as you come to terms with what you have to do–the decision he’s made for you–but you know that you have to hide it, can’t make a sound of hurt in the silent room. Pressing your lips together, you look around the bedroom before you rise from his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks, still smiling and oblivious, his eyes closed.

Already at the window, you untie the white curtain’s tieback and hold it up. “What about this?”

He opens his eyes and looks at the white piece of fabric in your hand, but doesn’t appear too skeptical. “For what purpose?”

“Blindfold.”

Trying to keep a positive and somewhat fear free mindset, it still hurts when you see how he immediately connects the blindfold to how you shielded your chest from his eyes. There’s pain and there’s guilt swimming in his dark eyes.

“You can, but please don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

“Okay then.”

With his permission, you place the folded sash over his eyes and tie it in the back, careful not to trap any hairs. When you’re done, you take another second to look at him. There is something so irresistible about him, something that has your heart yearning and your body pulled in. He’s so warm, both body and presence. You bite your lip, using your hand to trace his cheek softly while thinking about how he’s so conflicting. What if you want to stay here forever? Curl up like this where he can’t touch you, and lean your head against his neck where he can’t see you?

Like the time when you kissed three days ago, you touch your thumb to his soft lips, and you let the smile and the mask you’ve been wearing fall. Quietly, you stand up, and you take a step back.

“I thought you were going to kiss me?” Jeongguk jokes lightly.

You don’t know what to say, stuck in your footing to the floor and how he can’t see you. It’s like a weight has dropped from your shoulders, but your heart still feels heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

Not picking up the real meaning behind your words, Jeongguk tilts his head. “Okay. It’s alright. Why don’t you uncuff me and we can maybe order dinner instead?”

“I’m leaving tonight.”

“Wait… what?” he straightens up, struggling to process your words, “Why?”

But you go silent again, unsure of exactly how you’ll ever be able to tell him everything. He calls your name, sounding stressed, and you hear how he tugs on the cuffs.

“You scare me.”

He stops, and you can tell by the way he seems to almost be holding his breath that it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I… I understand that you’ve been through a lot, but I’m never going to hurt you.”

You keep your eyes on him, feeling like he, himself most likely believes what he’s saying. But it’s not that easy.

“I know… that all in all, you’re a good man. You want to help me and others, and I know you said that not even when you thought I was the most selfish person in the world would you be able to hurt me physically. But you had no problem hurting me in other ways.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry for what I did. I’ve apologized for that, and I’ll keep doing it.”

“I don’t know how to read you,” you add, disregarding what he said because he has apologized, but not in the way that you needed. Not in a way that really matters to you. If this man hasn’t had you broken in a thousand pieces and still insisted on stepping on the remains.

So you keep going. “You look sweet–you’ve been sweet, but you look just like him. Hoseong was sweet too, until he wasn’t. And you… you have this desire to hurt, you want to inflict pain on those who wrong you or who you think have done you wrong. What happens if you think I’ve done something you don’t agree with?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions without talking to you, I’m not making the same mistake again–”

“What if I actually do something you don’t like?”

For a few seconds, he goes quiet. “I’m not going to hurt you ever again, I promise.”

You fiddle with your hands, glancing down at them. “Are you sure? It was so easy for you, using all my weaknesses against me and breaking me down without ever asking me for my side of the story. And it scares me how you, during the mission, showed just how easy it was for you to one moment act like you could stand me–looking just as sweet as you do now–then angrily tear me down the next.”

It hurts in your whole body but the worst pain originates from your chest. You feel small, insignificant, but also like you take up too much room.

“I know that you probably don’t want to hurt me physically, and that you’re a better man than most, and at first when we came back, it wasn’t too difficult to ignore what you…. think of me, but now…? I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and it just… everything is coming back. I’ve been trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t hurt me at all anymore and that maybe you even like me like I like you, but I know that you don’t. Which in turn makes it hard to know why you’re doing all of this. I think maybe you feel guilty or want to be nice? Give me a chance even though I’m not your… type. But I… I like you. I really, really like you.”

It’s easier to admit than you originally thought, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I want to look at you every second of the day and my hands absolutely yearn to touch you all over. But I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you to look at me. I don’t want to be perceived at all. I know that if I stay here and show myself to you, you will not like what you see. You will be disappointed.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, not straining against the cuffs anymore but taking on a calmer approach. “It’s not true. I really do like you, and I think you’re really pretty. Please, I apologized for the things I said, and I’ll do it again. I’m really sorry; I just said those things because I wanted to hurt you. “

“You did. You hurt me, and I’m hurt. You apologized for wanting to hurt me, but you’ve never impli–actually, It doesn’t matter. I know what I look like, it’s kinda hard to forget when you’re constantly reminded. You and your friends came for every single flaw of mine, Jeongguk. “

“I only continued because you never seemed fazed by it.”

“‘I never seemed–’”, you stop to chuckle in disbelief. Your eyes are tearing up as you recall the moments you’re about to remind him of. 

“Are you saying that you never noticed that I stopped eating lunch at the cafeteria after what you did? Hoseong said that maybe someone would actually like me if I ‘ate less,’ and you laughed like it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. That was the day after you walked past me in the cafeteria, saying ‘leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you?’ Jihyo brought cookies for her birthday two weeks later, and you suggested–in front of everyone–that maybe I should do something else with my mouth besides eat. I criticized the fact that no male officer wanted to work on ‘low-rewarding’ cases like my trafficking case, and you… Do you remember what you said?”

Your eyes are already blurry with silent tears, and you feel the humiliation drown you. There’s no way to go, nowhere to hide. People like Jeongguk are watching, inspecting and observing every little part of you. Your bottom lip trembles.

Jeongguk is silent. If he could see, he’d be looking at your feet. You were right to blindfold him because you would’ve never been able to speak so earnestly had you not. Although you like him, and he’s been so kind and sweet to you, you’re back to feeling like nothing in his eyes.

“‘It’s not about the case; it’s about you. You couldn’t pay me to even look at you. In fact, I bet not even the traffickers would take you, otherwise we would’ve definitely traded you.’”

The pain radiates from your chest, leaving no cell of your body unaffected at the implications. You are so ugly and disgusting to him that if he had the chance, he would’ve sacrificed you to a fate no one should ever have to face. 

He doesn’t give you a reaction now either; he just sits there with his head lowered. But this is your one chance to tell him how you really feel. You take a big, shaky breath.

“I was doing okay before all of this. Sure, I’ve always known that I have a lot of flaws, but I was doing okay. But you’ve said over and over again that I disgust you, my body makes you want to hurl, you wouldn’t fuck me if your life depended on it, etcetera. It takes its toll. Eating around men gives me anxiety, even if I try to hide it. I cover up my… shoulders as much as I can because I can hear you describe them as ‘manly,’ and how every man within earshot chuckles. 

“I wear thick bras and tops, especially around you, because you made it a habit to comment on my breasts and how unfortunately shaped and sized they are. I remember how you asked me how on earth I ever expected Hoseong to like me when I had the ‘saggiest tits in the district.’ And I remember the field day you had when you found out they’re a bit uneven, finding a way to lower your rating of me from a 0.5 out of 10 to a 0.1. Then you asked the other men for their opinion and rating. Or how you’ve so kindly informed me that I didn’t have the tits for that pretty, blue dress and that it looked awful on me. Are you saying that you didn’t notice that whatever you’ve commented on, I’ve never worn again? Not even anything similar?

“I don’t wear tighter pants without a longer shirt to cover my ‘misshapen,’ ‘unfeminine’ hips and the ‘weird dips’ you’ve laughed at, and whenever work dress codes require me to, I’ve avoided you and other men the best I could.

“I wore a skirt to work once, and when I ran into you before changing into my uniform, you said that skirts are for pretty girls and that no one wanted to see my… cellulite. You took every chance to remind me that I have myself to blame for being undesirable, and that men weren’t the problem, I am, and ‘how wasn’t I ashamed for thinking someone like Hoseong could ever like me?’

"Believe me, I was ashamed. I am ashamed. Do you think I never considered just… drinking the poisoned coffee? Or just starting the car even though I knew the brakes wouldn’t work? If there was a way to get rid of one’s body, believe me, I would’ve. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know what he did to me at the time because how I looked never changed. But looking like you do, I get that you don’t understand how it is to walk around, filled with shame for existing in such an unfortunate body, but I can tell that you want to be better. Maybe you feel bad and want to give me a free trial of how it is to be with a Good Man. Or you want to do the ‘right thing’ so that your dad would be proud? I don’t know, but I can’t ignore the fact that I know how you really perceive me and how you are so far out of my league, it’s embarrassing to even stand here and say it.

"So while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me cause I’d be dead and gone without you, I can’t stay here. You want someone to hold hands with and to buy flowers for, but that’s not for people like me.”

Finally done, you wipe the tears that fall, and you shakily swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat.

“Take the blindfold off and uncuff me,” he begs, once again straining against the handcuffs. You know he isn’t getting out of them, and while he could stand up, the chair is too heavy for him to just pull along with him when he’s got the blindfold on and no sight. He knows, just as well as you, that there’s no use.

“No.”

“Then listen to me; none of that was true. You are so pretty, so breathtaking. I like you so much.”

“Forgive me for not believing you. If you really thought I was even remotely pretty, there have been countless opportunities for you to say so. Or even just a ‘hey, you know you’re not actually as revolting as I told you.’”

“I… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or have you doubt my intentions, but I’m telling you now that I’ve always thought you to be beautiful.”

You scoff sadly. “Yeah, now when the consequences of your actions have arrived,” you glance down at your feet, feeling so insignificant. 

“Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already packed my stuff.”

“Where are you going? You can’t go home; it isn’t safe there.”

Truly, at this moment, your safety doesn’t seem like your top priority. “I’ll be careful.”

“Can’t you stay with someone, at least?” he bargains, “Jihyo or Sana?”

Another tear falls, and your voice goes quiet. “I want to go home.”

You really do. You haven't been home in months, and you feel like a child sleeping over at a friend's, missing your mom so much it hurts and just wishing she'd come and pick you up.

“I know, but you just gotta hold out a little bit longer. Call Jihyo, please. Do you want me to watch your house twenty-four seven, cause I will.”

You consider his words, and if there’s anything you don’t want, it’s to have him so close again. “Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah…”

With nothing really left to say, you pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the Uber app.

“I’ll uncuff you in a few minutes, I’m just ordering an Uber.”

Luckily, a car is only three minutes away, and so with quick fingers you confirm it. You packed your stuff three hours ago in case this would be the outcome, something you’re very grateful for now. Maybe, maybe, if he had said something, you would’ve kissed him and decided to stay, hoping that he was being honest. But you know that you might be a sweet girl to him, but you're not a pretty girl.

A minute passes, and you sigh sadly. “Okay, I’m gonna open the handcuffs, but I’m begging you, Jeongguk, stay there until I’m gone, okay? Don’t remove the blindfold, please?”

It’s his turn to seemingly consider what you’re saying. What you did, agreeing to call Jihyo, was for him and respecting his wishes. So he has to respect yours. He can’t rip off the blindfold the moment you twist the key in the cuffs and try to persuade you to stay, no matter if he wants to. 

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You decide to trust him, and with the key belonging to the cuffs, you round the chair where he’s sitting. Kneeling like before, you manage to unlock one of the cuffs in two seconds, and the metal clinks as it falls off his wrist. Instead of freeing his other wrist as well, you grasp his free hand and put the key into his palm, closing his fist around it.

Though you shouldn’t have expected him to be entirely quiet and still, because while he doesn’t make any move to rise from the chair or remove the blindfold, he does swiftly grab your hand, holding it firmly. Despite being blindfolded, it definitely feels like he’s staring straight at you behind him.

“Don’t believe anything any of us said, please. You really are so gorgeous, and not only that but you’re incredibly smart and hard-working. You’re amazing, and I will regret what I did to you for the rest of my life.”

But you hurt so much on the inside that you don’t say anything to that, you just pull your hand out of his grasp.

<previous | next>

author's note: so.... anyway, uh... like, comment, and subscribe <333

[bestlilithian]

The lilithian experience (lilith dominant chart)

Personal experiences w having heavy lilith influence

- Older people being creepy subtly or overtly, but usually subtly with certain looks or touches or comments, especially strangers in public or distant family friends

- Being told Im scary or intimidating, or that I look mean (a girl once told me she thought I wouldnt want to hang out w her and her friends because I looked 'too pretty and kinda mean') [this is esp w lilith/asc harsh aspects]

- Lilith square asc culture is walking into a room a little pissed or in a hurry and everyone shutting up (also works for mars/pluto)

- Now Ive never heard anyone else talking about this but as a lilithian woman Ive always been disgusted by the idea of having sex with a man because in our culture a woman who has sex w a man is seen as having been dominated and degraded by him ("I fucked her" "I hit that" "I scored") also the act itself is very power struggle-ish like no *I* want to bend over a man and make him suck *my* dick

- Ive also noticed a lot of lilithian women are lesbians (including me <3) , might deal w lots of comphet tho

- Being hyperaware of people looking at you (even if youre dressed extremely modestly or without makeup)

- Lilith/moon aspects 🤝 your mom making inappropriate comments about you and your body

- Lilith/sun aspects 🤝 your father insulting you or making weird comments (more subtle w soft aspects so you might brush it off but its still not okay girl)

- People thinking youre flirting with them or others (esp men) but youre just hot and talking, and you cant help that ppl have strong reactions to anything you say really

- Loving eye contact <3 (w the right people)

- Lilith square saturn culture is not being afraid to stand up to authority <3 and having to quite often because they have a pick on you and try to tear you down

- also w lilith square/opposite saturn grown ass adults will have beef w you when youre a kid, esp those w authority over you like teachers, coaches etc

- Lilith/asc harsh aspects and overthinking whether a fit is too revealing or not (because you dont want to get harassed and looked at again) (but then youll grt harassed even if you go out in a priests suit so 🤩)

- People (esp men) trying to use you for sex

- Always being the one guys want to be friends w benefits with while theyre crushing on another girl

- "I dont like what you do to me" - most men Ive interacted with for a while

- A guy told me he liked me for who I am but he couldnt stand "the effect I have on him"

- lilith in 4th house culture is attracting men w mommy issues and being looked at by guys in relationships

- lilith/mercury and needing to know all your friends bdsm test results

- People liking when youre mean 2 them

- People who hate you often want to have sex w you

- Ive had so many guys in my class literally have to gather up courage to talk 2 me, even for basic things like asking me to help w something, they approach me looking all tense and worked up like Ill slice their head off for asking me to help them with their math lmao

- A classmate (and friend, apparently) of my friend once didnt want to come out and meet me when I went to my friends school to give her something because she thought Id beat her up (for context I found out she said some nasty things to my friend and was not happy about it)

- Being told by ppl (esp men) that I remind them of characters who are villains

- People esp girls not liking me for no reason or being rude

- Guys in relationships being extremely cold and rude to me or even shittalking me to their gfs (you can guess why)

- People trying to 'put you in your place'

- Recognizing other lilithians immediately

- Being insecure about your private parts, your body in general and your appearance

- Sex obsession since a young age

- Sexual harassment unfortunately

[mvltisstuff]

going, going, gone - c.f

summary: y/n’s the only person who can get conrad, and he realizes that maybe he’s been falling for the wrong conklin.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

gif from @conradfiisher

a/n: this will likely have a part two, so it probably won’t end here!! no promises as to when pt 2 is out but it will be there eventually ;)) this is literally me wishing i could slap some sense into belly

part two

“hey,” y/n greets, stepping into the beach house and finding conrad unpacking.

“hi,” he smiles lightly. the past few months have been nearly impossible. trying to crack conrad open is like trying to break into a safe. it took y/n forever to be able to understand conrad, and now that she finally did, there was an undeniable spark. she could sense the tension in his mind, knowing that something had set him off. he looked like he just wanted to break down, but he didn’t want to. if he did, he doesn’t know how to put himself back together.

“you ok?” she asks, cautiously. he’s almost like a wild animal, get too close and he runs away. especially since susannah died, he hasn’t been able to find a connection like the one he had with his mother.

“fine,” he mumbles, folding a few blankets onto the couch and placing some pillows beside it.

“conrad, don’t play this game with me again,” y/n sighs, stepping closer to him. he pauses in his movements to look up at her, slapping one last piece of decor on the mantle. “can we at least talk about the exam?”

“i, um,” he stutters, unable to find the right words that have disappeared in his mind. it’s like he completely pushed out the exam, all the other events had forcefully taken the excitement from it. “i feel really good about it, but it’s just an exam.”

y/n can tell in his slumped stance that something is truly disturbing him. he looks broken, and whoever did it certainly failed to put the pieces back together. it appears that they didn’t even try. “talk to me, conrad. please?”

he stops, breaking eye contact. he can’t look at her while he tells her because she can’t see his face when he says it. he doesn’t want y/n to see him crack under the pressure again.

“jeremiah and belly were making out on my car when i came out of testing. i walked out and there they were.”

“what?” y/n spits out, thinking about everything belly had told her before. “i thought she said she moved on-“

“yeah, i did, too,” his voice breaks, still avoiding any looks to y/n. if y/n sees him falling apart over belly, y/n would probably say something. the last thing conrad wants is for belly to know the affect this had on him.

“conrad, you know you can talk to me, right?” she steps closer, wanting to reach out her hand to him but knowing he probably doesn’t want it. he wants belly’s. “anything you say to me won’t get back to her.”

he slightly turns, finally letting his eyes wander up y/n’s body until they meet hers. he’s always found a trust in y/n. she’s been there since they were little kids, but it’s always felt different. there was an innocence to her, she felt like home and he could always run back to her if he needed her. he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he ruined that.

“i’m just so tired, y/n. it’s just one step forward and two steps back. i thought we could finally be over this, but they both just stabbed me in the back. on my car, during my test, in my hoodie. my mom always said belly was destined for me, but it just feels like jere took that.”

y/n can feel the hurt as well as see it on conrad’s face. she’s able to read him so well now that he’s not afraid to open up. she feels like they’ve gotten through a door, a point where they can share secrets and find a safety net in the other. “belly doesn’t deserve you, conrad. she’s not as mature as you, and you can thrive without her, i swear.”

“i’ll be ok, i just need a break from all this shit,” he groans, allowing y/n to finally walk up to him and hold his hand. “i don’t know if we can go back to the way things were after this.”

“i know i can’t change what happened, but i need you to understand that you’re not alone. at this point, you come first to me.” he nods, and y/n can see the sunrise in his face a bit more, but his mind is still covered with darkness. “if you need anything, please call me or come see me, ok?”

“deal,” he cracks a little grin, making y/n smile a bit in return.

“take care of yourself, connie,” she says before opening the front door. she starts the long drive home knowing what’s waiting for her there.

she plants her stuff down on the counter, letting her body relax after the hours behind the wheel. she starts to clean up some of the mess that she left on the counter when she hears squeaky footsteps come down the stairs.

“hey, you’re back already?” belly says, lurking into the kitchen to lean against the frame. y/n doesn’t say anything, she just looks at her and continues to organize everything. “what’s wrong, why do you look like that?”

“honestly, belly, i’m just trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“what do you mean?” belly asks, trying to think about why her older sister could have a reason to be mad at her.

“i stopped at cousins on the way home,” y/n informs her, belly knowing exactly where she left conrad.

“y/n, you can’t be pissed off because of what he told you-“

“no, belly, i have every right to be pissed. i’m pissed for conrad. you left him in the dust and you have no shame about it.”

“it just happened, jeremiah and i. i never wanted to hurt conrad, but im in love!”

“yeah, you were also in love last week with conrad. and the week before with jeremiah. you need to move on from them, bell,” y/n sighs, allowing belly some time to build another response.

“who are you to even say that?”

“because i’ve been there for both of them! i was there for jeremiah when you wanted conrad. i’m there for conrad because you are playing with their hearts like they’re toys. i can tell your hearts not fully in it with jeremiah, but i’m not gonna let you destroy those boys even more.”

“how am i destroying them?”

“belly, wipe that innocence off your face. you’ve managed to rip apart the fisher brothers because you cannot pick which one you like more.”

“but-“

“no, belly! listen to me,” y/n cuts her off before she can try and make anything better. “you couldn’t even contain yourself at susannah’s funeral because you were too worried about conrad. i know we are all grieving, but you are acting like you’re more worried about which brother likes you more. it’s exhausting having to clean up the mess you make over and over again. you’re slowly ruining this bond for me, for steven, for mom! you know i love you more than words, but if you keep playing with their feelings, belly, this family is going to be destroyed.”

“y/n, susannah told me-“

“use susannah as an excuse one more fucking time, belly.” the room goes deadly silent, y/n sick of the excuses and victimized mentality of belly. when steven comes stepping quietly into the room, he ganders softly into the chaotic mess that has formed between his sisters. she swipes her keys back off the table, grabbing an extra bag out of the closet. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” belly says, eyes full of tears from her fear of confrontation. her voice was shaky, and y/n could still feel a sting of guilt in her chest. she hated to build a bigger wall between everyone, but belly had to hear it.

“i’m going to look after conrad, because you failed to do it,” y/n ends their conversation, slamming the front door behind her and moving to the car. she left the house with a terrible tone, but someone else needed her more. belly had jeremiah, taylor, steven, laurel, anyone she wanted. conrad had y/n, and that became enough for him.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.

Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.

The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.

Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.

"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.

"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.

"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."

"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."

"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"

"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?

"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.

"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."

"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"

"Woah." Danny blinks.

"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"

"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."

"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?

"How do you-"

"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.

"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."

Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.

"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."

"You... saw my picture?"

"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.

Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.

"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.

"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.

"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."

"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.

"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."

"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.

"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."

"Why?"

"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.

"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."

Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.

"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."

"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"

"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

[sophsbookstore]

Exchanged Glances

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡ 

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 2 here

A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!

Word count: 1,581

Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different. 

A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.

After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.

“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.

“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.” 

“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.

“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.

“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.

Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.

Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.

“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.

"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.

“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.

Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.

This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”

Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.

“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.

“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”

“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.

After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.

“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut

“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”

“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.

“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.

“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.” 

Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”

“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.

Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.

Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.

“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.

“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.

“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”

“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”

Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.

The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.

The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.

“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.

“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.

“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes Charles, I would love to.” 

Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.

“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.

“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.

As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.

[hells-wasabii]

Hi could you pretty please do velvette x reader who is Carmilla youngest daughter and how her family reacts (plus zestial pls I ship him and Carmilla so I feel like he's a step dad)❤️

A/N: I blacked out and wrote this.... but yeeees LISTEN!! I love Velvette so much, its not even funny and i had a lot of fun with this prompt! I didn't realize how much i wrote for it until it was too late, and by that point, i really couldn't stop. but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! ps i honestly ship them too

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Velvette

Type: Headcanons + Drabble (Velvette x reader who's Carmilla's youngest daughter, General with a bit of Angst and Fluff sprinkled in)

For Velvette, she actually entered into the relationship not really knowing who your parents were. You never brought it up and she never really asked. It didn't really matter to her, since, ya know, you're the one she's dating, not your mum and dad, or step-dad from what you've mentioned.

Honestly, she should've seen the similarities. They were there for sure, but let's face it, there are so many demons in hell that it was probably just a coincidence, right?

Carmilla also knew you were seeing someone as well, though she really figured that you would bring this special demon around when you were ready.

Oh, they were both wrong. So very wrong.

They found out simultaneously, of course, as cliche as it was. You were on an evening out with Velvette with no clear destination in mind, just simply enjoying the evening and each other's company when the next thing you knew you were face to face with your mother.

It... didn't go too well.

What had once been a peaceful evening nearly dissolved into a turf war all in an instant. If you hadn't been able to separate the two with a promise to talk to both separately later there was no doubt that everything in a three-block radius would be collateral.

Zestial and your sisters would find out soon thereafter, Carmilla of course telling them when they see her come home looking quite distraught.

As stated before, to Velvette, it really didn't matter. though it did sweeten the deal. It would give her plenty more opportunities for her to provoke the arms dealer, something that she already took a great deal of pleasure in.

Zestial would be skeptical of the relationship at the start but eventually comes to accept it fully. His patience won out this time. He's seen more than enough relationships like this go up in flames and he'd never want that for you. He considered you a daughter after all.

As for your sisters, both of them were simply happy that you were happy. They were more worried about how y'alls mom would react. And you can't tell me that they didn't already know, either.

Carmilla on the other hand... To her, family is everything. I mean, she killed an angel for you and your sisters. She'd do anything for her kids, and that includes keeping someone like that upstart from breaking your heart. She wholeheartedly believed that Velvette was only dating you to get one over on her. It really comes as no surprise when she goes all the way to Vee Tower to confront the youngest overlord herself.

"You need to stay away from my daughter."

The fashionista bit out a curse as a needle pricked her finger. Velvette doesn't usually startle easily, but shit, between her being completely focused on finishing and the fact that her workshop had previously been silent save for any sounds that she had been making herself, she thought that even the most stone-cold bitch would've jumped.

What good was the security for if those nitwits couldn't keep unauthorized demons out of her workshop? The influencer swore that if any blood got on the material for this dress she'd personally kill the guards and whoever-

Oh.

Of all the people she expected to see, Carmilla Carmine, the uptight weapons dealer, and apparent mum of her girlfriend, was not one of them. Or actually, scratch that. She was completely expecting this to happen sooner or later.

"Well, it sucks to suck then, wrinkles, I'm not going nowhere." The fashionista bit back, a smirk settling on her lips that quickly fell when the older woman tried to push her point.

"I know what you're trying to do and it-"

"Obviously you don't." All mischief gone from her tone, Velvette set her work to the side, careful not to crumple the fabric. She rose to her feet and began to cross the room to Carmilla, who in turn stood taller, determined not to let this miscreant make a mockery of her, her family, and most importantly her youngest daughter. "I hate to break it to you, but the only way I'll break it off is if SHE wants to."

Velvette paused, her eyes boring into Carmilla's with a conviction and passion that the arms dealer hadn't felt from the influencer before. When the younger woman spoke again, her voice was softer than before, laced with a sincerity that would leave the mother speechless.

"I love her."

Its this singular interaction that leads to a truce between the two (technically five if you include Zestial and the Vee's) Overlords. They would come to some sort of mutual understanding that if both of them were to be in your life, they'd have to play nice. At least in front of you. At Overlord meetings, well, that's a whole different story.

[waitimcomingtoo]

How Do I Get You Alone? 2

Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss

Part one

Masterlist

“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.

“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.

“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.

“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.

“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.

“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.

“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”

“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”

“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.

“What was that?”

“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.

“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.

“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.

“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”

“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.

“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.

“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.

“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.

“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.

“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.

“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.

“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.

“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.

“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.

“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.

“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.

“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”

“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.

“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.

“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.

“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.

“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.

“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.

“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.

“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.

“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”

“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.

“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.

“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.

“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.

“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”

“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.

“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”

“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.

“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”

“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.

“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”

“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.

“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.

“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”

“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.

“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.

“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.

“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.

“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.

“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.

“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.

“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.

“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.

“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.

“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.

“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”

“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”

“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”

“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”

“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”

“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”

“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.

“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.

“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.

“You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.

“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.

“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.

“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”

“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.

“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.

“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.

“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.

“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.

“You liked me?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.

“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.

“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”

“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.

“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.

“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.

“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”

Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”

“Why?”

“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.

“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.

“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.

“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.

“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”

“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.

“He does?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”

“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.

“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.

“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.

A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”

“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.

“What are you listening to?” You asked him.

“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.

“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.

“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”

“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”

“I did, actually.”

“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.

“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.

“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”

“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.

“What Ben Alfeck movie?”

“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.

“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”

“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.

“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”

Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.

“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.

“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.

“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”

“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.

“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.

“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”

“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.

“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”

“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.

“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”

“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.

“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.

“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”

“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”

“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.

“Cherry?” You asked him.

“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”

“I thought so.” You chuckled.

“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.

“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”

“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.

“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”

Tag List 🏷️

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@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

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@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

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@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[katsu28]

for you i'd wait forever

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

summary: bradley breaks things off with you before a deployment because he doesn't want you to worry about him (4.2k)

warnings: some swearing, bradley's commitment issues, happy ending i promise!

a/n: okay so from what i gathered from my googling is that tapping out is typically for new military graduates (i think?) but this idea was so cute so pls forgive the inaccuracies i have no idea what i'm doing at all <3 and also pls forgive me for the utter lack of writing since the beginning of the year, these last few months have been brutal (creatively and otherwise) but i am hopefully back!!! xx

Bradley thought he knew the tolls of being in the Navy. It was tough on not only him, but the people in his life. For the most part, he’d always put his career first. His life had always been on a set track, and although there were plenty of setbacks, he forged ahead until he got where he was today. 

And then he met you. Fell in love with you. Finally knew what it meant to have someone in his corner who was just his. Who knew him for him only, not as Goose’s kid, or Mav’s protege.

For the first time in his life, he could actually see himself spending the rest of it with you. Marriage, house, kids, grandkids—the whole shebang.

That was his first mistake. The more he thought about what life could look like with you, the more he thought about what your life could look like without him. What would happen if something happened to him and he didn’t make it back from this next mission coming up in a few weeks. 

He thought about his mom and how she lost his dad—her husband. The man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with. 

Bradley’s thoughts grew quite grim after that. Countless what if’s and thinking about every possible outcome and he eventually made up his mind. He had to break up with you. 

He didn’t want to. Not by a long shot. You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him in his thirty plus years of life. But deep down, he knew that it was the right thing to do. He was about to leave for six, seven months, with little to no contact with anyone who wasn’t Navy. That would definitely take a toll on your relationship. You’d never been through something like this before, and there really was no way to prepare you for what it would be like. 

You would worry about him every single hour of every single day, he knew that for a fact. Bradley barely remembered what it was like when his dad was away because he was so young, but he did remember how worried his mom was all the time.

Looking back, he understood now. He didn’t want that for you. The worry would hold you back from other things you wanted to do in life, things that brought you joy and gave you purpose. 

With the mission creeping up on him faster than he would’ve liked, he knew he had to do it sooner rather than later. 

That was how Bradley found himself on your doorstep right now, pushing down his guilt by telling himself over and over that breaking up with you was in your best interest. He hadn’t called beforehand to tell you he was coming by, so when you answered the door and beamed brighter than the stars when your eyes landed on him, he almost wanted to chicken out. 

“Hi!” You exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a warm hug. His arms closed around you out of instinct, thumb rubbing over the sliver of exposed skin at your waist, nose nudging its way against your neck the way he always did when you embraced him. 

He inhaled the scent of the lotion you loved to use, that flowery one that sometimes made him sneeze. You always said you’d buy a different one the next time you went to the store, but you always forgot. He didn’t mind it at all though. A small bout of allergies was nothing compared to the inevitable smattering of apology kisses you pressed to his face when you realized you’d forgotten. 

Fuck, this was going to be way harder than he thought. 

Your hands made their way up his biceps to cup his cheeks, eyes darting around his face. “What’re you doing here? Oh my god, did we have something planned? I’m so—” 

“No.” He gave his head a shake, offering you a smile. “No, we didn’t have anything planned. I just…wanted to see you. To talk to you.” 

“Come in, come in, I was just about to start dinner,” You hummed, escaping his embrace with an arm hooked through his to tug him over the threshold. “Trying a new recipe I found the other day, not sure if it’ll turn out good or end up being a shitshow, but—well, you can help me be the judge of that, I guess!” 

“Is it okay if we talk first?” 

If you were confused, you didn’t show it, just changed direction seamlessly, making your way to the couch instead of the kitchen. You sat down, patting the cushion next to you for him to settle on and he did, rubbing his clammy palms against his thighs. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Everything was far from okay, he wanted to say. Instead he inhaled a deep breath before his next words. 

“I wanted to tell you I’m shipping out in a few weeks.” 

Your face fell a little, but you nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. What do we do? Is there anything you can tell me? Like, what’s the best way to get in touch with you, when’s the best time, that kind of stuff? Or is sending letters better? Sorry, I feel like I’m asking a lot of questions. I don’t—I’ve never really done anything like this before, so—” 

“I think we should break up.” He blurted. 

You hesitated before answering, blinking at him like you’d somehow heard him wrong. “What?” 

“It’s hard having someone overseas for a long time, even more so when it’s a partner. It was really hard on my mom, and hard for me having to watch her worry like that for months, and I—I don’t want that for you.” He said quietly, not daring to meet your eyes until he gave his poor excuse for an explanation on why he was doing the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do to you. 

The moment he’d realized he’d fallen in love with you, he’d promised himself he would never abandon you, never break your heart or your trust, and here he was, doing that exact thing. It was tearing him apart inside. 

“I don’t want you to have to go through all that, so it’s just better if we—that we break up now. Before I go.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Your voice broke just after the last word, swallowed up by a hitched inhale of a breath that had his resolve wavering just the slightest bit. He could barely look you in the eyes the whole time, and now…he didn’t think he could stand the sadness and hurt flooding every single one of your beautiful features. 

“All the worrying and the uncertainty of not knowing what’s happening, I don’t—it wouldn’t be fair to you. I care about you too much to put you through all of that.” 

You were silent for the longest time, eyes glued to the floor as you processed the information. He thought you were about to start crying with the way your brow creased, but when you finally looked back up at him, your gaze had hardened. “Did these last six months mean nothing to you? You’re just gonna throw everything away because what—you don’t think I can handle it?” 

They meant everything to me, he wanted to say. You mean everything to me. 

If he was really being honest with himself, it was him who couldn’t handle it. Still, he forged on, thinking it best to just rip off the bandaid. He could live with being the asshole if it meant sparing you from the terrible experience of him being god knows how many miles away for months. 

“I’m sorry. I wish you nothing but happiness, Y/N. You deserve better than anything I could ever give you.” 

“You wish me nothing but happiness?” You chuckled humorlessly, shaking your head. Bradley’s eyes tracked you across the room as you paced back and forth, guilt ridden expression on full display. All he wanted to do was take all of it back; to kiss you senseless and tell you everything was going to work out, but he couldn’t. He’d burned the bridge, cut the rope. Broke your heart. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world. He probably was. “Screw you, Bradley. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was all he could say. 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

“Y/N, I—” 

You rushed at him, pushing, shoving, sending him stumbling step by step towards the front door until he almost crashed into it had he not managed to pull it open a split second before you shoved him outside. He’d never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes right before you slammed the door in his face. 

Bradley forced his feet to take him back to his car, then to drive away before he could have a chance to even try and make things better. He’d most likely end up making things much, much worse. Though he didn’t think it could get any worse with the way he was feeling about himself right now. You were angry at him, and you had every right to be. 

But had he lingered at your door only moments after, he would’ve heard the thump against the wood that was you sliding down to the floor and the sob that escaped your mouth. 

All because of him. 

-------

Bradley was happy to finally be coming back home after ages away, but then he realized it—he didn’t have anyone to tap him out this time. His mind jumped to you first, but there was no chance in hell you’d be there for him. You’d probably moved on months ago. Forgotten about him. And with Mav away on another deployment, he really had no one. 

His chest ached the longer he stood at attention, jaw clenched tighter than he meant it to be as he watched the rest of his squad get tapped out by their loved ones. Coyote’s parents, Fanboy’s sisters, Hangman’s nieces and nephews, Phoenix’s girlfriend. They were all emotional reunions, and Bradley was happy for them, he really was. But it sucked being the one with nobody there for him. 

He wasn’t expecting the soft tap on his arm when it came. He thought it was a mistake at first; someone else’s family bumping into him accidentally, so he didn’t move. But when the hand didn’t leave its place wrapped loosely around his bicep, Bradley knew it really was for him. He turned around, squinting against the blinding sunlight to see who’d come for him. 

“Hi.” You said softly, hand dropping back down to your side. He couldn’t help but let himself take you in, eyes drinking in every single achingly familiar detail of you until you shifted nervously under his intense gaze. You looked so beautiful he almost felt dizzy, just like he remembered but at the same time somehow even better. 

“You came.” He said, disbelieving. He could still hardly believe you were actually here. 

“I promised you I would.” 

“But that—that was before…everything happened. Why are you—what’re you doing here?” The last thing he wanted to sound like was ungrateful, because he was quite literally the opposite, but his mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that despite him breaking your heart seven months ago, you still remembered what you’d promised him in the very beginning of your relationship. 

“What does it mean to tap someone out?” You asked quietly, tracing a finger along the planes of Bradley’s bare chest. Your legs were tangled under the covers, both of you still basking in the aftermath of getting reacquainted with each other again after Bradley had been out of town attending a weeklong training exercise. 

His skin was still damp with sweat, but you didn’t mind one bit, too busy exploring the expanse of muscle shifting under his bronzed skin again. “In military terms, I mean.” 

He chuckled, hiding a content smile into the hair at the crown of your head. “That’s a weird question.” 

“Humor me, Bradshaw.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley stroked a rough palm down the smooth skin of your arm, taking a few beats to come up with an answer that would make sense. “Tapping out is a super long standing tradition in pretty much all military units, I think. It comes at the end of a mission, when we’ve come back to base.” 

His arm repositioned itself under your head as he scooted closer to the warmth radiating from your body, nose nuzzling deeper against you just so he could engrain the smell of your lingering fruity scented shampoo into his memory forever. 

How you still smelled so good even after your…physical activities just before this was beyond him, but he loved it. 

“An aviator’s loved ones are usually the ones to do it. Friends, family, those kinds of people. When you tap out your aviator, literally you’re releasing them from formation. But I guess it’s kind of a gesture that means…you’re home.” 

Your wandering fingers stilled against his skin, lingering right above his heart. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Who usually taps you out?” 

Bradley remained silent. It was an innocent question, he knew that. He’d told you a little bit about his parents, and you were just curious. Still, it sent a pang of sadness through his chest whenever he thought about what it would’ve been like if they were still around today. 

He cleared his throat, sniffing once. “Usually Mav. Or sometimes one of my squad’s family. If no one can, I just gotta wait til everyone else is done.” 

“I wanna do it.”

“What?” 

“I’m gonna be there next time you come back from a mission. To tap you out.” 

“I appreciate it, honey, I do. But you don’t need to.” 

“I want to.” You said firmly, pulling away from him to prop yourself up on your elbow and look him in the eye. You looked damn serious too. He raised a quizzical brow. “You said that to tap someone out means to tell them they’re home. I want to be the one to tell you you’re home. Here. With me.” 

Bradley opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped shut when no words came out. He really was at a loss for words. No one had ever done that before. Sure, Mav’s offer was always a good one to fall back on, but Bradley had never had someone he cared about as much as he did about you telling him they were going to be there for him. 

The next best thing he could think of instead of saying anything at all was to kiss you. So he did. 

He pushed himself up towards you, sliding a hand around the nape of your neck and pressing his lips against yours. Not bruisingly hard, but enough to let you know he was all in. The other hand curled around your shoulder, splaying across your back to bring you back in closer to him, until your chests were flush and you could feel his heartbeat thundering under your palm.

He was home. You were his home. 

“I told you I’d be here to tap you out, and I meant it.” You said simply, holding his gaze. “I keep my promises, Bradshaw. Even after the way you left things.” 

Red hot guilt crept its way through his chest like vines, bringing all the memories of the last time you saw each other right back up to the surface, even after how hard he’d tried to shove them all down. If there was one thing he regretted in life, it was how he left you that night. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for that one. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N, I—” 

“Then let me say something.” You blurted, wringing your hands. Bradley nodded instantly, still too dumbfounded to reply. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say to you today for months. I don’t even know if I should.” 

“You should.” He encouraged, nodding quickly. He’d always wanted you to be able to speak your mind with him. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it.” 

“Okay. Okay, well first of all, you’re an asshole, Bradley.” 

He nodded again. He deserved at least that much. “I am. Absolute asshole, I know.” 

“But I never stopped loving you. Even though I was angry and sad and confused as fuck as to why you would do that to me, I still loved you. And eventually, I realized that it wasn’t anything I did wrong. You were scared. Of losing me, of me losing you. So you decided it was your responsibility to pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.” Bradley winced slightly at the comparison and you grimaced at your own poor choice in words. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s okay. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“You said you didn’t want me to worry while you were gone, well, I did that anyways.” You chuckled, like you were remembering a fond memory instead of the constant state of anxiety you’d been in. “But instead of worrying that the man I love might not make it home, I was terrified that if you didn’t come home, I’d spend my whole life replaying our last conversation in my head. Wondering if there was something I could’ve said or done so you wouldn’t have given up on us so easily.” 

“You think that was easy for me? Sweetheart, walking away from you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my whole life.” 

“Sure seemed pretty easy.” You scoffed lightly, only a tad spiteful. A low blow, you realized, when Bradley stiffened for a split second, but you held steady. 

“It wasn’t.” His reply was immediate and firm as could be, but somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better. “You have to understand, breaking things off was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t—I thought that if I didn’t, you’d wait for me.” 

“I would’ve waited, Bradley! I did wait for you! For you, I'd wait forever because I love you, but you didn’t even give me that choice. You made the decision on your own instead of talking to me about it. That was what hurt the most.”  

“I’m sorry.” Bradley said quietly, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers laced through yours almost tentatively, feeling so familiar but so foreign at the same time. There was a point in your life where you never thought that concept would apply to Bradley. “I never should’ve left like that, I wish I could take it all back.” 

“I think I understand now why you did it. I understand that fear that comes with the experience of losing a loved one like that. But Bradley, you’re not responsible for my feelings. And I don’t care how scared you get, I’m not going anywhere. From now on, we work things out together, no matter what you think is best.” 

“From now on? Does that mean…?” 

“You’re my home, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Bradley took your face in his hands and he kissed you, long and hard, pouring every ounce of pent up feelings he’d been bottling up for the past seven months into it. Pain, fear, love, hope—all of it. You were never one to believe in such emotion being able to convey itself through a simple physical action, but now you could honestly say you understood it. 

Your hands spread across the broadness of his back, fingers pressing into the crisp starch of his uniform like you were afraid of letting him go , even though he was home and everything was okay now. Losing him the first time made you angry. You didn’t even want to imagine possibly losing him a second time. 

He drew back, only far enough to press his lips to your forehead, hands still holding you close as could be. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t make a habit of breaking my promises.” 

“C’mon, I wanna introduce you to the squad.” He said softly, lacing his fingers through yours. The way he all but bounded over to the group of aviators a little ways away was almost boyish, as was the excitement in his voice when he approached them. “Hey everyone, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Bradley announced, sliding a hand around to the small of your back. 

Everyone’s eyes turned on you, conversations petering to a gradual stop as they looked between you and Bradley. You shifted nervously, suddenly feeling unsure with all the attention on you, but Bradley’s thumb rubbed along your skin, soothing you just a bit. “This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” 

The tall blond reacted the quickest, snapping loudly before aiming a finger in your direction, along with a shiny smile. “Wait, I know you! You’re the one in that photo Rooster keeps tucked in his helmet. Lemme tell you, he looked at that picture every damn day, it was like—” 

Bradley let out a very forced laugh, aiming a not-so-subtle daggered glare at the other man. “Okay, Hangman! That’s okay, I really don’t think—” 

“You’re a real saint, taking this one back. If I ever pulled the shit he did, my car would’ve been keyed to all hell when I came home.” Hangman chuckled, giving his head a shake. 

“Hangman. Shut. Up.” 

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up!” 

“You’re the only one talking!” 

“Alright, alright, you’re both grown men here,” The dark haired woman sighed, turning towards you. “At least, I hope so.” 

You chuckled at that, casting a glance over at Bradley to find him already looking back at you, the back and forth with Hangman already long forgotten given the way he was smiling at you, like you were the force that made the world go round. Taking you in under his arm, he dotted a kiss to your hairline as your fingers came up to intertwine with his again, watching you interact with his squad like you’d known them for years. 

It was everything he ever wanted. And now that he had it, he’d never be dumb enough to let it go again. 

His mind drifted back to his parents’ fate— how they never got to live out their life together. How there was no guarantee about anything when it came to Bradley’s own fate with you.

And sure, it was scary to be so uncertain about the future, but you’d both climb that hill together when the time came. For now, Bradley could let himself be content. This second chance at a life with you wasn’t one he was planning on taking lightly, not by a long shot. 

“Let’s get off this damn carrier and hit the town! Drinks at the Hard Deck, last one there buys the first round!” Hangman’s drawling voice drew Bradley out of his thoughts, just in time to let the words sink in.

You, on the other hand, stifled a giggle at the sight of seeing a group of full grown adults scatter as fast as Bradley’s friends did. Watching Hangman nearly shove Coyote to the ground upon seeing their cars were parked next to each other was something you’d never not get a kick out of. 

But Bradley, he didn’t seem as worried about it all. In fact, he walked leisurely with your hand firmly in his, swinging both of them between the two of you as you made your way to your own car. 

“Aren’t you worried you’ll be the last one there?” 

“I’ll buy the round, I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I wanna spend some time with my girl.” 

“Your girl.” You hummed, giving his hand a squeeze. “Gotta say, I’ve missed hearing that.” 

“I’ve missed saying it. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, honey. Starting with, do you or do you not have a voodoo doll made in my image that you stabbed with pins when I was away because I broke your heart?” 

You scoffed, letting out a not so attractive snort. “Bradley, I mean this in the most respectful way possible—what the hell are you talking about? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I—uh, I had a dream about it? A few weeks into deployment.” He admitted sheepishly, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “You don’t, right?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You replied, giving his chest a firm pat. You didn’t have a voodoo doll of him, of course, but playing along was worth it just to see Bradley squirm. 

“Wait, wait, wait, but you didn’t say no.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“So you do?” 

“I didn’t say that either. But if you’re not sure, I’d watch yourself the next couple weeks.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion and a bit of fear as he watched you walk away from him with some bounce to your step. “I…really don’t like the sound of that. Hang on, get back here. Explain, please!” 

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[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

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