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juqtier · 9 months

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☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: after blowing up at your neighbor, you and your friend decide to have a night out to help you with stress. what could go wrong?

GENERAL WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses

THIS CHAPTERS CONTAINS: alcohol and alcohol consumption, characters are drunk, cursing, spencer is an asshole, cursing. also if anything is wrong or said wrong ignore it and pretend it’s all correct thanks 💯🥰🫶🏽

GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 2 : it’s dr. reid

✎ It has been a couple weeks since you blew up at Spencer, and not much has changed. Well, except for your attitude towards him.

You never smiled or waved at him. In fact, if he even glanced at you, you’d quickly roll your eyes before he got the chance.

As you sat in the back at your work, counting tips, you couldn’t help but think about how much you hated him.

God, he’s so stuck up.

He doesn’t even know me.

Wearing a vest doesn’t make you any better than me or anyo-

"(Y/N), are you okay?”

Your coworker (and closest friend), Liv, interrupts your thoughts. She stared at you with a subtle hint of confusion. You hadn’t even realized you'd been zoned out or that you’d been slamming down the cash on the table.

You and Liv met when you first began working here. She was possibly the happiest person you know, and the kindest. She always listened to you ramble about anything, whether it was a stupid hobby, a rude customer, or even the most mundane story about your week.

“Um yeah. Just some problems..” You weren’t even sure how to answer her. Bringing up the situation made you even more furious.

However, Liv became a bit more concerned with this answer.

“Oh no! What’s wrong? Family troubles, a boy?”

You breathe in deeply, trying to suppress the anger building up again before you start talking.

“It’s just... my neighbor.”

Liv leans on the table you sat at, obviously interested in what you have to say. “Go on…”

Her saying that immediately gave your mind the confirmation it needed to go ahead with your rant.

“Well, when I moved in, I wanted to greet him. I don’t know, trying to be neighborly and whatnot, like one does. But.. like..”

You rub your face with your hands. It became clear to you that talking about this would anger you no matter what, so why not just get it over with?

“He’s such a jerk. Like, he interrupted me when I tried to say hello. He even slammed the door in my face.”

Your friend's eyes widen, leaning more towards you, showing her interest. Honestly, even if she wasn’t showing any care whatsoever, the words would’ve kept spewing out regardless. You needed to get this off your chest.

“Oh, and he showed up at my door, telling me to turn my music down. I have no problem with that, but in the same breath, he tells me how I have terrible taste. He said, 'Some of us have jobs and commitments', or whatever bullshit he said to me. Like oh I’m sorry, I never knew because I don’t also work my ass off!”

Your voice gradually became louder, yet you weren’t quite yelling. All Liv does is nod softly, almost as if she knew how much anger and frustration built up inside of you.

“And I live next to him, I can’t avoid him. He’s like the plague! Maybe during the apartment tour, the realtor could’ve been kind enough to give me a heads-up! Maybe like, ‘Oh, by the way, the neighbor is insanely rude and pretentious, so maybe avoid him if you can’, I dunno!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), I’m sorry.” Liv quickly says. Venting to your friend calmed you down a bit, but you were still visibly annoyed.

“It’s fine… It’s not... whatever.” Your body slumps into the chair, the tip money you were previously counting still spread in front of you.

“Let’s go out tonight. You and me!” Liv suggests happily.

The idea sounds nice, but you haven’t been out in what feels like forever. When you moved, you left all of your dresses and more risqué clothing behind to make the move easier. I mean, you didn’t even think you’d have a reason to go out of the house.

“Liv, thanks for the attempt at helping, but I haven’t gone out in so long. I don’t even have going-out clothes.”

"Well, you’re in luck, sweets! I have tons of going-out clothes, or whatever you call them. When I’m out in a couple hours. Finish counting your tips, go home, shower, and I’ll pick you up. No ifs, ands, or buts. See ya!"

With that, she smiles sweetly at you and hurries off, going to serve another table fast enough so you can’t say no to the plans she made. You let out a small huff, seeing no way out of this.

And Liv was nice; what harm could going out with her do?

You gather the cash and stuff it into an envelope, sliding it into your purse and gathering the rest of your belongings. Untying your apron and setting it down, you exit the restaurant through the back and make your way to your car.

Please let tonight be a good one.

-‘๑’-

“Choose an outfit, any outfit!”

Liv displayed all her dresses for you to choose from on her bed. She had picked you up a couple hours prior, and the two of you had been talking for a while before getting ready.

You straightened your hair and did a smokey makeup look, something you hadn’t done in a while.

The dress selection was quite impressive, but a simple short, sparkly black dress stood out to you the most. You pick it up and show Liv your choice.

“Ooooh, skimpy, yet simple. I like!” Liv said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Go put it on!”

She eagerly pushes you into the bathroom to change, shutting the door behind you.

Slipping the clothes on and staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt insanely confident. Since you hadn’t been out in so long, you forgot how fun it was to get dressed up.

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the room where Liv went to change, she audibly gasped upon seeing you.

“Jesus (Y/N), you look hot!”

A giggle escapes your lips as you look down at the yourself and smile at her.

“I might have to steal this dress, I like them too much.”

“I’d pay you to keep it, you look good.”

The comment made you blush slightly as your friend continued to compliment you.

“Alright, I'm ready. Let’s go!”

The two of you order a cab and head to the club. The thought of Spencer Reid is nowhere in your mind.

-‘๑’-

As you arrive at the club, you can already tell it’s quite full. Just upon entering, you see tons of people dancing and drinking—even a drunk girl spilling her drinks all over herself as her friends quickly try to clean her up.

Liv grabs your arm, dragging you up to the bar in a matter of seconds. It seemed so fast; you hadn’t even noticed she ordered you two drinks.

“Two tequila shots, two waters, and two limes, thank you!” Liv orders from the bartender. He nods and heads off to grab you guys your drinks.

“Starting off strong?” You say this, laughing softly.

“Of course! I want you to have a good night, (Y/N). It’ll be fun, trust me!"

Liv smiled softly at you as she grabbed the salt on the counter, seeing the bartender come back with the shots.

“Here you go. Enjoy, ladies.”

The both of you nod as the bartender steps away, helping others with their drinks. You lick the back of your hand and sprinkle salt on it before grabbing the shot and throwing it back.

It burned slightly, going down your throat, and you winced a bit. Quickly licking the salt off your hands and sucking on the lime, you can’t help but shake a little bit. It’s been so long since you’ve even consumed any sort of alcohol, so this shot felt incredibly strong to you.

"Jesus, I forgot how much I hate tequila.” You say, clearing your throat a bit. You grab your water and take a sip as Liv laughs, seemingly having had no reaction to the shot.

“Welcome back to drinking, huh?” She jokes, which makes you both laugh a little.

-‘๑’-

As the night goes on, the two of you dance and drink more, progressively becoming drunker. The shots began going down like water; a lime wasn’t needed to help anymore.

As you and Liv danced together, you decided to get more shots. Liv was clearly having too much fun to get off the dance floor right away, so you made the sacrifice to step off and grab them.

“I’ll go grab us some more shots; you just stay here.” You say to her, words slurring as you walk over to the bar. You lean on the bar to order more shots, hoping to make them your last ones as you get more and more tired.

The bar was full, so the bartender wasn’t going to tend to you right away. As you take a seat to help you have some sort of balance, you become aware of the presence of someone behind you. Assuming it was Liv, you snap your head to look at the person.

No fucking way

It seemed like you could never escape the nightmare that is Spencer Reid.

"Holy shit, Reid... are you stalking me?” You say this, looking up at the tall man. If your words didn’t indicate how drunk you were, your face did. Your eyes were heavy, and your face was slightly flushed red.

“Stalking you? I wouldn’t even if I was paid.” He states, making you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know what karmic debt I have to pay off, but it sure is hell seeing you everywhere I go.”

The words coming out of your mouth were so slurred, it made him chuckle. This made you roll your eyes again, annoyed at everything he did.

“I’m not particularly pleased to see you either." He answers, not even looking down at you as he scans the bar.

“And besides, you’re not the only one allowed to go out. I’m here with some work friends, not for you. They’re all just too drunk to hold a conversation…”

You laugh slightly as you tilt your head. “You don’t drink”

“No, not really. Can’t say the same can you? Try not to clear out the alcohol…”

Of course he had to throw in a snarky comment quickly. Even if it wasn’t normally seen as rude, coming from him was a different story.

“I’m leaving anyway.. have a.. nice night… or whatever.” You reply swiftly, forgetting the shots you planned to order and hopping out of your seat. You stagger a few steps away before feeling his hand wrap around your forearm, quickly stopping you.

“Wait, how are you getting home? You can’t drive like this.”

It almost felt like you couldn’t roll your eyes anymore than you have. You turn your head to look at him, your hair falling in front of your face.

“Don’t pretend to care.. where.. I’m going." Your words seemed to take forever to get out; you just wanted to get as far away as possible in that moment.

“Just because I don’t like you at all doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be in possibly dangerous situations. Especially in this state..." His eyes didn’t seem angry at that moment; they were just worried. It almost felt foreign to see him not roll his eyes back at you. It shocked you.

“How are you getting home?" Spencer’s voice is a lot more stern this time, startling you a bit. You never expected him, of all people, to care.

"Well, mister Reid…”

“It’s Dr.” He corrects you.

“Whatever.. me and my friend… Liv… will get a cab home. Any other questions?"

When he doesn’t respond right away, you think that’s the end of the interaction. When you attempt to slip your arm out of his grasp, he only tightens his grip a bit more. Not hurting you, but stopping you from walking away.

“I- I don’t think that’s very safe. I’ll give you guys a ride.”

Usually you’d argue and protest, but he seemed too serious to even try. And besides, you’d rather get a free ride than pay for one.

“Whatever..” You begrudgingly agree, pulling your arm away to go get your friend. Liv is easily pulled off the dance floor this time as you explain the situation. She holds onto your arms as you exit the club behind Spencer. It was obvious she had many more drinks than you; you could’ve looked a little sober next to her.

"Hello, sir, thank you for the ride.” She says to Spencer, her words are barely comprehensible. Spencer just nods, not really understanding what she said.

You walk to Spencer’s car with Liv on your arm, then softly help her into the backseat, buckling her up. She was laughing and giggling as you did so, not paying much attention to Spencer at all.

"Please, please, please don’t throw up in my car.” You hear him talk to himself as he walks to the driver's side door and gets in.

As you get in the front seat beside Spencer, you look around at the interior of the car. It was completely clean; there was not a speck of dirt in sight.

“Huh, is the car new?” You ask, turning your head to face him. He shook his head as he stuck the keys in the ignition, starting the vehicle.

“No. I just don’t drive much. I don’t like to, I usually take the train or have a coworker drive me. Can you give me your guys addresses?”

You nod, telling him both addresses, seeing as Liv was too inebriated to say much. The car begins to move, and you lay your head back to stare out the window. Watching the world pass by was calming; you even began to drift off a little.

Suddenly, the car stops.

“We’re at Livs.” He almost whispers. You lift your head up and look around before getting out of the car. You still had pretty bad balance, but better than Liv’s, who had passed out by now. Spencer gets out as well and helps you hoist Liv out of the backseat.

“How much did you guys drink?” He asks, referencing how drunk your friend was. The two of you begin walking to the door of her house.

“Not a lot, just... a lot..” You joke, laughing at your own stupidity.

“I wouldn’t do that. Alcohol causes 13 percent of deaths among-“

“Boooorinnng.” You interrupt. He presses his lips together as you two reach the door. You dig through the purse Liv had on her shoulder and fish her keys out, quickly unlocking the door and pushing it open.

“I’ll go put her to bed.” You say, dragging Liv off Spencer’s shoulders and to her room. She is easily carried, being quite light. As you reach her room, you set her down on the bed and take her purse off her shoulder, placing the keys beside it on her dresser. She didn’t really respond much, but you did hear her softly snoring as you laid her down.

As you shut the lights off and exit the house, you see Spencer waiting on the sidewalk for you.

“Come on, I’m tired.”

You walk to the car and get it again, buckling up quickly.

As you begin driving, he suddenly begins talking to you.

“I never took you as someone to go out at all.”

“Dr. Reid, you don’t know me at all.”

Saying this makes you realize, you don’t know him either. I mean, he was annoying, yes, but what did he do? What did he like? Were his interests as painstakingly pretentious as he was? You grew curious, then quickly grew confused as to why you were curious at all.

When he laughs at your comment, you immediately snap out of your head. “I do know you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not exactly a dream either, believe me.”

You go back to staring out the window, waiting for the car to finally park in front of your apartment.

When it finally does, you get out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Spencer is right behind you.

“Stop following me, weirdo.” You comment as you walk in front of him, refusing to turn around.

"Sorry, princess, but in case you forgot, I’m your neighbor.”

You groan at this comment as you both reach your apartment doors. You were already so irritated and tired that you couldn’t bear another snarky comment or remark from him. Opening your door, you look at him and nod.

“Good night, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was sassy, yet jokey. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you, lifting his hand to wave goodbye. Before he can reply or say anything, you shut the door.

You made him smile.

He smiled cause of you?

Why did you care so much that he smiled? Shouldn’t that annoy you? Maybe you were just too drunk to function properly. You shake the thoughts off and slip into more comfortable clothes, quickly jumping into bed and falling asleep. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be thinking straight…

-‘๑’-

PT 1 | PT 3

tag list: @daisyridleyss @taygrls @yeonalie @peanutbelley @vivian-555 @ehedrick012110

a.n : this feels really long, and it is, so sorry ! but next chapter is a lil more eventful i hope! also, in my head liv is a blonde sweet sort of ditzy girl, but you can imagine her however you’d like! liv lover regardless 💪🏽💯

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #cm imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #juqtier writes… 🐈

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skittlesfics · 2 years

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Flufftober Day 1 – Wearing each other’s clothes Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 2025 Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of extreme loneliness, brief alcohol mention but no usage Author's Note: Playing catch-up now that I have some time. This was supposed to be a drabble oops, but it is by far one of my favorite things I've ever written for Steve. See the full prompt list for flufftober here. Still accepting requests for who to write for each day! -

Steve’s favorite day of the week had gradually shifted from Friday to Saturday over the past year. Friday had been the night for parties, the night for first dates, the night for drives out to lover’s lake, the night for cold beers by the pool, and the night for whispered promises (lies) to push back the heartache. That had all changed, though, along with his friend group and his definition of a good time. Now Saturday was his favorite day of the week, because Saturday was movie night.

It wasn’t that he cared so much about what movies the group actually watched (okay he did care. A lot.) Nor was it the fact that you always brought some exciting new snack or baked good for everyone to try. No, instead it was the fact that Saturday nights were the only time that the museum that was the Harrington house actually felt like a home.

The halls were more vibrant, more warm. The pristine couches (not so pristine after Dustin spilled his Dr Pepper, but that was fine. Steve’s parents would never spend enough time in the room to notice anyway) actually felt comfortable for once. Steve could finally feel at ease with the beautiful cacophony of voices bouncing off the walls, never quite quieting down enough to actually hear the movie. He could feel like he had a real family.

That was why it always hit him so hard when it was over. Every movie had an ending, and half the group had curfews that had somehow become solely Steve’s responsibility to make. You would hang back to clean up while he drove everyone else home, but then you, too, would go. Then the silence would return, and then the cold, and then the loneliness.

Steve couldn’t do that, not tonight. Not when his parents had already been gone for two weeks, with two more to go, and he hadn’t quite been able to schedule any dates to fill the void since the day you had kissed him on the cheek in thanks for something that didn’t need a thanks at all.

When he came back from dropping off the kids, you were humming softly to yourself, picking individual M&Ms from the plush carpet where they had been left to get crushed underfoot after a particularly vicious snack preference disagreement.

Steve smiled at your back, wondering if you had any idea just how wonderful you were, or if that was a fact just for him. Like how pretty you looked when you were embarrassed, or how raspy your voice sounded when you woke up at 4am to keep a lonely Steve company on the phone.

He swallowed that thought, a mix of affection and his usual melancholy at war in his chest. This house didn’t want Steve to have nice things, and your affection was one of the nicest things around.

“Hey, Stevie, I was thinking…”

He was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t notice you stand up, the plush carpet swallowing your footsteps when you approached him. You were just suddenly there and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was worth the embarrassment when you laughed, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. You could scare him all you wanted, if it made you laugh like that.

“Thinking’s dangerous, babe.” He quipped, hiding behind a lopsided grin. You wrinkled your nose and rolled your eyes and he prided himself at his own force of will. It took everything not to kiss you right there, and if he were a weaker man, or perhaps a smarter man, he would’ve done it anyway.

“Oh, shut up. I was thinking,” You continued, your eyes narrowing into a glare, daring him to interrupt, “That I might stay the night tonight, keep you company in person.”

There were no words for the warm melty feeling in Steve’s chest, the way his heart ached and yearned and was content all at once. Or perhaps it was just that the words felt too big for his mouth, too scary to vocalize lest you not feel the same. Instead, he pulled you into a smothering hug, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of your head with an urgency he hoped you understood.

“Please.” Was all he could manage, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t going to cry, not over a sleepover, but damn if he didn’t come close. He hadn’t wanted to ask, knowing that your parents were out of town, in case you had other plans. The loneliness of his house was unbearable, but the rejection would be worse. This was… perfect.

When you managed to wrestle your way out of his steel grasp, you were laughing, shoving at his arms when he reached for you again. This quickly turned into him chasing you around the living room, your high-pitched shrieks echoing in the empty house as you tried to evade his affectionate embrace. You were fast but he was faster. It was his house, after all, and he was an athlete. You moved to jump over the back of the couch and he grabbed you by the waist, rolling with you so that you were both laying on the couch, your body pressed against his.

You were laughing, breathless, and when you opened your eyes to look at Steve’s face, he was lost.

There was something so effortless about being happy around you. Something so natural about having you around that his general ennui didn’t stand a chance. How could it, when a pretty girl that knew him well enough to offer to keep him company late on a Saturday night was smiling at him, noses nearly touching, eyes wide and bright…

He should have kissed you then. Should have been less of a coward. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that look meant on a girl’s face, when your eyes flickered down to his lips and then back to his face. He knew that he wanted to kiss you. In fact, he had never wanted anything more than to crush you into his chest and kiss you silly in that moment. But he didn’t.

Instead, he used his grip on your sides to tickle you and you screeched, rolling sideways off the couch, laughter spilling from your lips as you finally escaped his grasp and fled to the other side of the coffee table.

“You’re the worst, Steve Harrington.” You joked. He knew you didn’t mean it, not with the smile still curving your lips and the laughter you couldn’t keep out of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged, sitting up, “Let’s get you ready for bed before you cause any more trouble.”

“Me?!” You scoffed, arms crossing indignantly. Steve hummed and stood, gesturing towards the stairs with a nod of his head.

“Yes, you. I bet you didn’t even bring a t-shirt. You can pick one from my drawer.”

You narrowed your eyes at his deflection, but still followed him up to his bedroom, flipping off the lights as you left each part of the house. Steve knew he was right. You hadn’t brought anything with you, offering to stay only once you had seen the sadness creeping into his gaze at the prospect of being left all alone once again.

He pretended not to watch you as you rifled through his t-shirt drawer. He was thinking about your lips, and the warmth of your breath across his face making his skin tingle, and your body pressed tight against his, and—He shouldn’t have been thinking about any of that. Not when you were doing him a favor just by staying the night, and certainly not when you were walking into his bathroom to strip out of your clothes.

He took your absence as a chance to change into his pajamas, trying to push away the thoughts of what your kiss would taste like as he threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It didn’t work, of course. You were still you, and you were still there, changing into his clothes.

When you walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on his bed again, propped up against his pillows with one leg hanging carelessly off the side of the bed. He hoped he maintained a normal expression, because he felt his entire universe lurch sideways at the sight of you.

You had chosen an old Hawkins Phys.-Ed. Shirt that was slightly faded from the number of times it had been washed over the year. It was just a grey-t-shirt, but it hung halfway down your thigh, the rest of your legs on full display, and something primal in Steve was screaming that that was his shirt. He had sweated in that shirt, bled in it, cried in it briefly after the bleeding. It was his, his, his, and it was a damn shame that you weren’t too.

He took a shaky breath, and smiled, pushing the caveman thoughts to somewhere they wouldn’t interfere because you were his best friend and you were staying the night to do him a favor and (you were wearing his shirt, holy shit.)

“Is this one okay? Sorry, I should have asked.” You had the audacity to look bashful standing there looking like sex, and Steve had to swallow to keep his thoughts straight.

“No, yeah, it’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine.” He stumbled over his words, cursing himself for the fumble, “I might have to let you keep that one; You wear it better.”

You laughed at that, finally fully entering the room.

It was worse up close. You dumped your clothes on the floor beside the bed and jumped up next to Steve, molding yourself into his side with your legs tucked under you. The smell of his laundry detergent on you made his thoughts race in a way that he might have been ashamed of if he possessed the capacity to be that anymore.

When he turned to make another joke, you were looking up at him through heavy lashes, chin tilted up to match his gaze, still smiling slightly, the ghost of a laugh still lingering on your lips. You were so pretty he could cry and when he instinctively found himself leaning towards you, he found that you were leaning right back.

Steve had wanted to kiss you for so long that he was sure the real thing could never live up to his fantasy. He had never been so wrong in his life.

Your lips were soft and pliant as he kissed you, the warmth of your body against his lighting small fires across his skin. You grabbed one of his arms with yours and squeezed again like you had earlier, pulling him closer to you like you couldn’t bear to be apart. He kissed you slowly, reverently, memorizing the way you felt in his arms, the way your mouth felt against his, the way you breathed when all you could breathe was him. There was a hollow in his chest that was suddenly full of you, all at once, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that going away.

When you pulled away, it was to press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, his shoulder, his mouth again, and then you were smiling again and Steve just stared, taking you in.

“Thought I told you not to cause any more trouble.” He joked, leaning in to kiss you again, reveling in the way you shivered with delight at the press of his lips, the way you reciprocated without hesitation, the way your grip on his arm tightened when he tried to pull away.

“’m not trouble, Stevie.” You protested. You tried to pout, but Steve just kissed it away until you were laughing into his mouth, pretending to try to shove him away with no real force.

“No?” He asked, earnestly, “what are you then?”

He didn’t think his night could be much better with you so close, lips swollen from his kiss, but you nearly knocked him dead with your response.

“Yours.”

#Steve Harrington x Reader #Steve Harrington Imagine #Steve Harrington Fluff #Stranger Things Imagine #Stranger Things Reader Insert #x Reader #Fluff #2000 - 2500 #flufftober2022

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saiilorstars · 2 years

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Ch.26: The Pressure’s On

Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC

Current Masterlist | Previous Story

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

[If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!

When Barry was truly back in his own world, he told Belén everything that'd happened to him. He told her about the other world he'd accidentally gone to — National City, Supergirl...Anais. Even if he hadn't been a speedster, Barry would've still rambled at light speed trying to retell the entire story from the moment he stepped foot into Earth 38 and the moment he returned.

Luckily, Belén knew him. She didn't interrupt his story; she silently listened from beginning to end. She would just snuggle closer to him each time he shifted as he made wild gestures during his story telling. She waited until the end to start sharing her reactions. "So you and I are married in this Earth-38 world and...and we adopted an-an...alien child?" Her face was warm and red just at the thought of it. Of all the things her doppelganger could have done, she chose to do all that...

Barry's face was just as red as Belén's. He stared at the ceiling until it would come down a bit. "We adopted Anais when she was a child. She's our daughter - well, our doppelgangers' daughter."

"Well, she sounds amazing," Belén tilted her head up at him, smiling when he finally met her gaze. "And it's not just cos she's an alien. It seems like our doppelgangers raised her well, loved her right." She couldn't imagine ever doing something like that but then again she hadn't really imagined herself being a mother. Those thoughts were still pretty far away.

"I wish you could've seen her," Barry lamented the fact that would probably never happen. Anais was as cheery as her adoptive mother was, definitely a fast-paced rambler too. He was sure that she and Belén would've gotten along so well.

Belén wished the same thing but she wouldn't dwell on the fact it would never happen. There was no point. It was a nice world but it wasn't their world. They would one day, hopefully, have something similar but absolutely their own. "Well, I could do without seeing an older me," she admitted with a chuckle. "Seriously, I'm over 40? How terrible!"

Yet Barry smiled from ear to ear. "You were hot."

"You don't have to kiss up, you already live with me and you get to share my bed," she rolled her eyes and made to turn away from him but he locked an arm around her waist, keeping her right where she was.

"I mean it," he looked down at her. "I get the feeling that no matter what version of you I meet, I'll always love them."

"But no more than me, right?"

Barry brought his hand up to her soft hair and ran his fingers through it. "You're my Bells. That other Barry got to marry his Bells and grow older with her. I want that opportunity too." He could vividly remember the way his doppelganger looked at his wife, the gentle touches they shared, they way they acted with each other. He would love to reach where they were, albeit at their own pace.

"And they were happy?" Belén asked after spending a few minutes in calm silence. "You know, despite all the alien nonsense they obviously go through?"

"Yeah," Barry grinned within the second. "She makes the chocolate amaretti cookies you do and he loves them. Anais was upset because he almost ate the entire batch that her mother brought."

Belén felt a warm tingle just hearing the word 'mother', but she did laugh at the cookie part. "Really?"

"Yup, I think that every Barry Allen in the multiverse loves chocolate amaretti cookies baked by Belén Palayta."

"Hm, well I'm sorry my batches aren't quite there yet. I imagine my doppelganger makes them better?"

"Yours are just as good too, Bells, I promise," Barry kissed the top of her head. "In fact, I wouldn't be opposed if you decided to make another batch today."

Belén playfully rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you already live with me, you clearly get me in every other world...you don't have to keep kissing up."

Now it was Barry's turn to roll his eyes. He shifted on the bed to see her sarcastic face. "I do love you, Belén. You have no idea what it was like seeing that other world, another world where you and I are married."

There was a brief grim look on Belén's face when she thought of Earth 2. "Well, it didn't quite turn out to be all sunshine and rainbows with our Earth 2 doppelgangers."

"One Earth, one different version," Barry said as he tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "But even then, it's true that we'd meet in any and every world."

Belén could smile at that. "It does seem that way, huh?" Their theoretical question of whether they would meet each other in a different timeline turned out to be real. It brought a rush of new warmth to her body, a happy warmth that she relished in. No matter what world they were in, they really would meet each other and fall in love. She draped an arm over Barry's shoulder and pecked his lips. "I love you my singing scientist."

"My dancer in the air," Barry chuckled as he gave her another kiss. He'd taken to watching her during her aerial dancing practices lately and he honestly felt like he would never get over her talent. "My beautiful dancer in the air," he started peppering her face with kisses, making her laugh. He lowered his arms to her waist and pulled her body against his.

He felt like kissing her for a much longer time now.

~0~

'I am truly content with your decisions as of late, Belén," the Green's voice filled the air around Belén. She rolled her eyes when it continued to go on and on about her latest choices regarding botanical metas, knowing exactly where he was headed with one precise decision she made. "Belén, you and Datura are doppelgangers who should have been working together from the very start."

"Kinda hard to do when she's been trying to kill me this whole time!" Belén exclaimed in full-on irritation. She was getting real tired of the Green acting as if this wasn't a fact. "And let's just be clear that I'm helping her because of humanity reasons. I nor like her, nor tolerate her."

"You were always going to be one of my most prominent child," the Green said as if Belén hadn't said her last statement. "The truth is, you and Datura are my most prominent children." Belén scoffed but the Green went on. "Belén, you and Datura will be intertwined for a long time. She is your doppelganger and while her choices are questionable, she will ultimately make sacrifices even she never saw coming."

Once again, Belén scoffed. She folded her arms and glared at the wide open forest. "And what's that supposed to mean to me? Is that why I should forgive her for everything she's done so far?"

"No. It is only to remind you that despite the different worlds you both grew up in, the different versions of people you had around you, Datura will return to her fundamental core in the end. She is you, Belén, just as you are her."

Belén rolled her eyes. "You know Barry just got back from another world where I don't have botanical powers. She's a scientist, and she's living nice and happily with her husband and their adoptive daughter. Are you telling me that evil, murderous Datura is just like her? And that Earth 38 Belén is just like Datura?"

"Choosing to ignore my words is not wise. The truth is when Time calls, you and Datura will work together. It's an inevitable event and when the job is finished, you will look back on the days of the Azalea fighting Datura, thinking of how times have changed and how it changed both of you."

Belén snorted and laughed thoroughly. "Right. The day I work with Datura is the day pigs will fly. I am choosing to help her but I don't expect promising results. Now if you'll excuse me, I do have to go converse with other botanical metas looking to hide from the very meta you foolishly think might be redeemable."

She thought for a moment that the Green would prevent her from walking away but she was able to make it to the spot where more botanical metas were gathering. She smiled at the group who already spoke so easily to each other; they were comfortable with each other despite the short amount of time they'd met.

"Hey, they're pretty much ready," Black Orchid was amongst the group, waiting for the Azalea to make her appearance. Shivhan had taken her role serious in guiding the newer metas in the world and Belén honestly didn't know what she'd do without her. She herself didn't know the Green so well. They all had things to learn.

"Alright," Belén called for the group only once and had the entire place silent for her. That was still pretty weird but Shivhan said it was normal that they would listen to her without protest. "Today we're just going to keep doing what we've been doing. We'll keep practicing and training, getting to know each of our powers because the more you know it, the more control you have over it. I'm curious, and you don't really have to answer, but...has anyone experienced any...darker sides of your powers?" Belén's eyes scrutinized as many of the metas as she could to get an idea but in the end she had full-fledged answers.

"If you mean have we lost control then yeah," a younger female meta had raised her hand. She couldn't be older than sixteen, least that's what Shivhan had guessed the first time they met her. She was one of the metas who didn't have a suit but, like everyone in the group, her face was covered with a mask of vines. "I-I have like this...this other side of me that comes out without me wanting it. It's like...it's like it is in control of me. It's why I ran away from home. I was afraid that I'd hurt my family."

"I'm sorry you felt like you had to do that," Belén sympathetically looked at the girl. "The same thing happened to me, and I'm sure it's happened or is still happening to more of you. It's okay if you don't want to share but I would like to work with you, even if it's one-on-one. That other side of your powers you feel? It's not 'another side', it's part of your powers."

"But it feels wrong," the girl brought her arms over her chest and shuddered. "I'm supposed to be connected to nature but instead this side makes me a reckless, dangerous meta. Not to mention it's what can get me outed and make me an easier target for Datura. I don't want it."

"You saying that, is only gonna make it worse," Shivhan flatly said, making Belén roll her eyes. Their training styles differed even in their personalities. Shivhan wasn't the type of cover up the clear dangers of things while Belén preferred to ease the newer metas into the truth. "The Azalea went through the same thing, so why don't you be that first one-on-one?"

"I guess," the girl shrugged.

Belén offered the girl a warm smile as she motioned for the girl to follow. "C'mon."

Shivhan waited for the two to be gone enough to where they wouldn't hear, to where Belén wouldn't hear. "K, anyone else who has the same problem as that girl needs to meet with the Azalea at some point. You don't want to be outed because you couldn't control your powers."

"Easy for you to say," muttered a young man. "It'll take eons for us to learn how to control our powers."

"It doesn't have to," Shivhan rolled her eyes. "That's why the Azalea is doing this - that's why that reporter made the article."

"You mean the reporter who got fired over it?" went another man who appeared slightly older than the first. It was hard to tell when everyone was wearing their masks.

"Yeah," Shivhan crossed her arms, her tone taking on a tinge warning the others to watch their next words.

"I heard the same thing," a blonde woman said, shaking her head. "Is that really true? Did she get fired because she published the article for us?"

"She's not fired but...she could be," Shivhan looked from one meta to the next and was pleased to see that they had the decency to feel a little guilty. "But it doesn't have to end like that. Now the Azalea cannot get involved in what I'm thinking of because it's an established fact that she knows the reporter. It would look like she pulled some strings for the civilian."

"What do you mean?" the older man from before asked.

"This reporter has risked her life countless times to help the metahuman community and this last article she published is what brought all of you to this place. Without her and that article, you would all still be clueless about your origins."

"So what do you want us to do?" the blonde woman genuinely smiled, as did many of the others.

~ 0 ~

"So your powers are kind of interesting because you can willingly change anything into plant matter," Belén sounded just as awed as she truly was. It was the first time she met a botanical meta with that specific ability and the fact this girl, who was so young, already had a hold on those powers was amazing. But it also meant she was an easy target for Datura and since the girl held a special type of power that could, possibly, be linked to what Datura would need to survive, it was urgent for the girl to get a tighter grip on her powers.

"Sounds cool but it's not," the girl said with a flat tone. "I accidentally changed my cat into a frikin mess of vines. I didn't know what to do so I told my Mom that he ran away." She shook her head and sighed. "I'm a mess."

"No, you're not. You just need to train more," Belén said. "Now, first thing's first, what can I call you?"

"What, like...my meta name? Or my real name?"

"It's your choice."

"Kinsley. That's my real name. I don't...really have a meta name," Kinsley awkwardly shrugged her shoulders. "I...don't really have anything but my name actually."

"It's nice to meet you Kinsley," Belén offered the girl another kind smile.

"Believe me, it's really good to meet you," Kinsley's eyes slightly widened, making Belén chuckle. "I have read everything about you, I've watched you fight. You're good."

"If I am then it's because I've practiced and I've had some really good friends helping me. It's what I'd like to do for you and anyone else who wants it."

"Why? I mean, why bother teaching someone like me?" Kinsley gestured to herself. Her outfit was ruddy enough, showing signs that she truly had been on the run and no doubt on the streets for a while. "I'm no one important. So what if Datura finds me?"

For a moment, Belén wondered if that was how she sounded to her own friends when she made comments like that about herself. If it was, then she truly understood now how ridiculous it could sound. Sure, she didn't know Kinsley but she didn't have to in order to know that she had great power and was incredibly smart. Kinsley had been one of the first metas to get into the Green after the article was published.

"It matters because the world needs a Kinsley in it," Belén walked up to the girl and put her hands over her shoulders. "My Dad used to tell me the same thing when I put myself down and I didn't really believe him, but now I do. You don't know all that you might do for this world in the future, and you'll never know if you don't let yourself grow as a person and a meta."

"You sound like a mom," Kinsley playfully rolled her eyes and missed Belén's reddened blush on the parts of her exposed face. "Hey," Kinsley suddenly garnered a smirk, "Are you a Mom? Is the Azalea a Mom!?"

"God no!" Belén waved her off and walked a few steps away. "Let the record show that I am not a mother and that I'm just here to help you train. So—" she clapped her hands together, "—let's see what we're working with."

~ 0 ~

When Iris walked into the cortex, she was mighty surprised to find a gleeful Barry while Caitlin and Cisco looked ready to bury their heads in the piles of papers on the desk. "What is going on?"

Cisco didn't answer with words but instead with a groan. "Mr. Allen over here thinks we can crack the code to get back to Earth 2 today!"

"I did not say today!" Barry frowned at him. "I just said if we could work on it to get some progress—"

"Yeah, yeah," Cisco waved him off.

Iris' eyebrows raised but if she was being honest, and she would be, she had zero interest in continuing with that conversation. She turned to Caitlin instead to talk about why she came. "Caitlin, are you free tonight?"

"Uh, yeah..." Caitlin slowly nodded. "Why?"

"I'm trying to do this girls' night out to sort of help cheer up Belén. It's stupid but it's all I got at this point."

"Any word what the verdict is going to be?" Barry came up to the desk, forgetting all the work they had spread out around them.

Iris shook her head. "No." She felt terrible seeing his face drop, just like when Belén would 'casually' ask the same question. There truly was no obvious sign of what direction CC Pictures would take concerning Belén's job status. "How is she?"

Barry shrugged. "I mean...she's just being Bells. She's focusing entirely on the Green and the metas she's managed to meet through the article. She and Shivhan are in the greenroom right now."

"At least she managed to do what she wanted," Iris pointed out. Belén made it very clear that she was ecstatic to see the article working. "So girls' night...?" she turned a hopeful glance on Caitlin. "I'm trying to get Nina too and it should be no problem getting Shivhan."

"Why? You got booze?" Cisco asked with a smirk.

"Shut up," Iris waved him off.

"I'd love to, Iris," Caitlin smiled.

Iris beamed. "Great! You—" she pointed at Barry, "—are going to stay at my Dad's place because girls' night is going to be at Belén's."

Barry rolled his eyes but since it was for Belén's well-being, he wouldn't protest. "Fine."

"Eight p.m," Iris told Caitlin before taking off.

~ 0 ~

Belén returned from the Green to discover Iris' plans sent to her in a quick text, the same text that Shivhan had on her phone.

"Cool, booze," Shivhan punched the air with a fist. "I'm in!"

Belén sighed. She knew there was no talking Iris out of it. She appreciated the attempt of 'cheering her up' but she honestly didn't see the point of it. She wasn't sad. She wasn't upset. She stood by her choice whether or not the article did its thing...and it had.

"I say just have fun with it," Barry told her while they watched Caitlin draw blood from Belén's arm. "But, uh, not too much fun. Don't want you doing things you'll regret."

"Yeah, right," Belén rolled her eyes while Caitlin chuckled. She looked at the brunette just as the needle stopped poking her arm. "So, are we done with that?"

"Ow," Belén winced when Barry pulled the needle out from her forearm. She watched him carefully bring the new syringe with her blood to a table. "Is this really necessary to save her ass?"

"Yes. Your DNA is the basis for the cure so this is where we need to start," Caitlin carefully moved the syringe over to a table.

"Okay, but why do I have to do this twice?" Came Belén's grumbling question. Caitlin had first extracted a blood sample while Belén was in her "green state" and then proceeded to ask her to return to normal for a second withdrawal.

Barry patted Belén's hand, offering her a warm smile. "We need to focus on the differences between your two states and then compare them to Datura's."

"Wouldn't that mean you need some of her blood too?"

"Yeah, but...since we haven't seen her yet, we'll start with you."

"How romantic," Belén playfully rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she still couldn't get over the fact she was truly trying to help the evil doppelganger. "So, have you two thought about a way to get the breaches open again?"

"Well..." Caitlin turned around to fixate a sharp look on Barry. Yes, they had but it wasn't a very welcomed one.

"What I miss?" Belén blankly stared at the two until someone answered.

"I thought that maybe Cisco might be the key," Barry ultimately answered. Belén's eyes widened in shock. "I just thought that his doppelganger could do it-"

"Because he was evil, did we forget that?"

"But his powers are the same as Cisco's so that means that Cisco can do it!"

"So what did he say?" Belén asked even when she had a pretty good idea of how it all went down in her absence. Caitlin's face behind Barry confirmed it.

"He wasn't all that for it. And neither was Harry."

"Mm, shocker," Belén slid off the medbed. "So I guess I know what you'll be doing tonight: trying to convince Cisco to open a breach. Yeah, I'll definitely take Iris' girl night out plans."

"Yeah," Barry released a breath. That would take a lot of convincing but he just knew that Cisco could do it if he really tried.

Belén would let him figure that out all on his own. She had other issues to resolve herself and right now Caitlin was holding onto one of them. "So this cure, how is it going to work exactly? Will I have to give blood like some transfusion or something? Or like... swapping things in general?"

"We'll figure out how to pass it on when we actually have the cure," Caitlin smiled at her. "For now, we have to really study your DNA. Although, I may have a theory that could really help us."

"What is it?" Barry was quick to ask. Leave it to Caitlin to help solve their problems quickly.

"Well, like I said, it's just a theory right now but I was thinking about Belén's 'green side'. You had trouble controlling that part of your powers so maybe the way you got control over that side is what we might need to help Datura gain control of her powers."

"Is there like a specific gene for that, then?" Belén folded her arms over her chest. "Because it took a long time to get that under control and you're telling me this whole time I could've just let you switch it on?"

Caitlin shook her head with a light laugh slipping through. "Not exactly. It could've been biological for you but it was more of the mind mixing in with that. I suspect Datura's case is a lot more biological than the mindset. I'll have to really look into your blood before I keep making up more theories. The only other problem right now is that we don't have any blood from Datura."

"I know Cait," Barry sighed. This wasn't the first time the subject was brought up and he had nothing for her. It was why they really needed to open up the breaches.

"Great, so we really need the breaches to open up soon," Belén said. "But even then, where are we going to get a blood sample from Datura? Every time we see her she's trying to kill us. You'd think she'd be more grateful that we're trying to save her life." Oh. She's always busy trying to kill me. Belén smirked. "Oh, wait a second. It would just be hilarious if we got a blood sample from her without letting her know."

"What do you mean?" Caitlin asked with natural confusion.

"Let's say when we get the breaches open, Datura comes to fight me - which she really will - and I just happen to punch her little nose or something. I can get her blood.

"I don't like the idea of you fighting her to get blood off her," Barry shook his head but Belén grabbed onto his hand with a mischievous grin on her face.

"But this time I'll be one step ahead of her. I wouldn't be fighting her to win, I'd just be hitting her until I get blood. And I am very willing to keep hitting her until she bleeds."

"Bells..."

"Oh shut it, I am trying to save her life so the least she could do is let me punch her on the nose!"

~ 0 ~

After much insistence - and there really had been a lot of insistence - Cisco agreed to give the breach opening another go. He had tried it in the breach room of STAR Labs without success so of course Barry would come up with another alternative.

"You know, I can't think of a lot of guys who would prefer to go to an abandoned warehouse in search of a multidimensional portal instead of hanging out with his girlfriend," Cisco made sure to say loud and clear when Barry brought them inside a horrible, smelly warehouse.

Barry just rolled his eyes. "To be fair, Belén kicked me out. She's having a girl's night and I'm not allowed."

"Can I kick you out too?"

Barry sucked in a sharp breath and side-glanced his friend, none too pleased with his sarcasm. "Look, I know this is hard but we really need to find a way. And this-" he raised the handheld scanner he was holding onto, "-says that this area has the highest levels of residual trans-dimensional energy. We should be able to open the breach that used to be here." He walked into a long room, probably a room for dozens of people at one point, and came to a stop in the center when the scanner beeped again. "It's right here. This is it.

"For real? In this Patch Adams nightmare right here? Yeah. Love it," Cisco grumbled. It was a place of horror movies!

"All right. Look, dude, if this doesn't work, I'll stop asking you to do this, all right!"

Cisco would take that deal any day. "Fine," he exhaled deeply and struck a hand forwards, intending on letting out that power to open the breaches...but nothing happened. "What? Look, I can't do it!"

Barry frowned. There had to be something missing for this to keep failing!

And if he heard him, Harry strolled into the room. "That's right. You can't."

"What are you doing here?" Barry raised an eyebrow at him. "You said you weren't going to help!"

"I know what I said. But you're not gonna stop, are you?"

"No."

Harry inwardly groaned. Joe was right. Barry would keep doing stuff like this and get himself hurt or killed one day. He needed supervision, as did everyone else in the team. "Okay, Barry Allen, then I'm gonna do what I can to make sure you don't get killed." He came up to Cisco with a pair of black goggles for Cisco. "I recalibrated these to the electromagnetic frequency of this Earth. It should help you access enough of the trans-dimensional energy to manipulate it."

Cisco didn't look that impressed. Actually, he wasn't. "Just like Reverb," he muttered as hr took the goggles into his hands. "All I'm missing is the guyliner and the transformation's complete."

"Take 'em out for a spin!"

With a sigh, Cisco put the goggles on and tried again. He struck his fist forwards and this time, it was engulfed by a blue energy that sprouted into a breach. He had done it.

~0~

Zoom was in his lair, going crazy just waiting. He wasn't alone, though, for he still had his 'loyal' follower, although she was acting like her usual self.

A weary Datura leaned over a table. Her eyes struggled to stay open but she fought to keep them so. Across her was Zoom, perched at a chair waiting expectantly for her...and for something else. The two went hand in hand.

A small gasp slipped through Datura's lips. Her eyes flashed a menacing red and when she spoke, it was someone else's voice. "He's trying to open a breech."

Zoom stood up, pushed the chair out of his way, and stalked towards her. "Where?" he demanded to know.

There was a distant look on Datura's face as she focused on the spur of images in her head. The power was all too new for her and she was still struggling to keep it under control, but Zoom couldn't know. This one was actually taking a toll on her more than the others. She really shouldn't be on the hunt for new abilities. Poison Ivy would tell her that.

"O-over by the old hospital…" she said and Zoom wasted not a second in speeding to the location.

As soon as she was alone, Datura deeply gasped (and struggled too). The redness from her eyes faded and she slowly came back as herself. She rubbed her gloved hand across her face and hope to God the weakness plaguing her was not as noticeable as she felt. Once Zoom found out she was progressively becoming useless, he would not hesitate to kill her.

~ 0 ~

Cisco sucked in a sharp breath when he started to feel the true power of the breaches. He could feel it, creeping up from his fingertips, up his arms, to his head...to his mind. Suddenly, he ripped the goggles off him and the breach disappeared.

"No! What happened!?" Barry whirled around to Cisco. "You were doing it!"

But Cisco was dead scared of what he'd been doing. "No, no, no, no. I-I can't do this!"

"What-"

Cisco chucked the goggles back to Harry, shaking his head fervently. "Don't. Please, don't ask me to do this. Please!" He ran out of the room without looking back once.

~ 0 ~

"It's mine!" Shivhan exclaimed once she saw the bottle of wine Iris was bringing over to the living room.

"It's called 'sharing' Shivahn, geez," Iris cautiously set the bottle on the coffee table thinking that she might lose a hand if Shivhan decided to go for it.

"How did you work as a bartender?" Caitlin chuckled with amusement as Shivhan hurriedly poured herself a glass of wine.

"Flawlessly," the woman in question smirked as she saluted with her glass.

"I don't think I should be drinking," Belén apologized when Iris offered her a glass. "I'm undergoing certain medical tests..."

"What? Like pregnancy ones?" Shivhan carelessly asked but took great pleasure when Belén's face flushed red.

"I really hate you!"

Shivhan smirked. "It's just too easy sometimes," she told the others while Belén continued glaring daggers at her. "And plus, you did tell us about that weird adopted alien child you have in another world."

"Yeah, now I'm regretting that."

"It's so weird that you keep bumping into your doppelgangers," Nina remarked as she accepted her glass from Iris. "But then again, so completely you."

"Well this version sounded a lot nicer than Datura. Hell, if she was here, I'm sure she would've found the cure already and put the rest of us out of our misery," Belén grumbled. She eyed the remaining glass of wine on the table meant to be for her. It was a lot more tempting as she got to thinking about her problems. She shook her head. She couldn't get drunk and then let the Azalea have a hang over the next day.

"I think it would be completely weird to meet a doppelganger," Caitlin admitted especially since she knew that her doppelganger had existed on Earth 2, an evil doppelganger as well.

"I think it would be cool," Shivhan leaned back on the couch. "You know, if they weren't evil. Think of all the shit you could pull."

"Okay, maybe let's not talk about doppelgangers...?" Iris made a discreet nod towards Belén who was growing distant with thoughts. "Or anything meta related. This is meant, after all, to be just a fun and casual night. Belén, take a glass." She picked up the last wine glass from the table and held it out for the ombre-blonde. "I'm sure Dr. Snow wouldn't get mad over one glass." Caitlin playfully rolled her eyes. "C'mon!"

Belén took the glass and immediately drank from it. Shivhan laughed. "Oh shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Thanks Iris, for setting this up," Belén looked at the woman in question. "Maybe I do need just a little bit of a distraction. But I'm sorry you had to give up a night for me when you could be going on another date with Scott."

"Oh, um...actually..." Iris made a face. She could've sworn she told Belén this but now that she was thinking about it, she had told Barry instead. "That's not really happening anymore."

"Why not?" Belén blinked. "It's not because of me is it?"

"No, no, of course not! I just..." Iris' shoulders shrugged purely because she couldn't put her thoughts into words at the moment.

"Did you guys break up?" Caitlin then asked just to see if she could help Iris find her words again.

Iris exhaled and shook her head. "No, well...can't really break up if we were never really together. Actually, I kind of did it when Barry showed me this video of Eddie wishing me a happy birthday. He said all these nice things about me…" Iris smiled to herself as she remembered the video. "And I thought it was time to move on but...I guess it's easier to say it than actually do it. Plus, I can't really see myself 'moving on' with a guy who can't really appreciate what metahumans do for us."

"Still, sorry," Belén said and offered her glass to clink with. "But I'm sure there's someone else out there."

"Well when you find one, let me know cos I want to find one too," Nina said suddenly, making the others laugh. "What? I'm past thirty. I need to find me a man."

"Me too," Shivhan said, then added, "Or a woman. I'm bisexual and I still can't find someone."

"Cisco said you had a girlfriend in college," Caitlin pointed. They were all now aware of Shivhan's backstory and her terrible time in her early metahuman days. "Have you ever thought about maybe calling her up now that you've gotten control over your powers?"

Shivhan shook her head. "Nah. What's the point? I almost hurt her. I don't think I could face her."

"Never say never," Belén smiled encouragingly at her. "Because hey, what if she's still waiting for you to call her?"

"Yeah, right," Shivhan rolled her eyes. "Someone just serve me more wine. I've got a lot more comments about that adoptive daughter Belén has!"

Belén's face fell flat but the blush creeping up her neck was all the motivation Shivhan needed to follow through.

~ 0 ~

"Soo...a little birdy told me you almost opened up a breech last night," Belén took the stool across from Cisco in his workshop. She smiled proudly, because it was a really big thing to be proud of, but Cisco didn't pay her attention.

"Almost," he stared hard at his goggles like the conversation was coming from it and not Belén.

"Barry thinks you're scared. Zoom has a way of getting into your head, but...I don't think that's the fear. Or at least that's not where the fear comes from."

Cisco briefly looked up to see Belén studying him intently. "It's not?" he asked.

"Cisco, I had a hard time getting my powers under control and to this day it still scares me that I could succumb to the dark side of them. It's a unique sort of fear, and... it's kind of like the one I'm seeing in your eyes right now."

"What do you mean?" Cisco tried playing dumb.

"You're scared of your powers, or at least something along those lines." Belén saw the shift Cisco gave in his spot. She stood up and walked up to him, placing a comforting on his arm. "What is it?"

Cisco sighed. He saw no point in hiding it anymore. "It's like... It's like right now I'm Anakin Skywalker. I got the midi-chlorians. I've got the goods. The force is strong with me. That is something I can feel. But if I start opening breaches into other worlds, doing all this other crazy stuff Reverb was doing, then... what if this is how I become Vader?"

"You're afraid of becoming like your doppelganger?" Belén would have laughed had it not been a serious matter. "Cisco, that could never happen. Literally."

"You don't know that. That is what happened to Reverb," Cisco said. "He learned how to use his abilities, and when he felt that, when he felt that power, he succumbed... to the dark side."

"I get that fear. Let's not forget my doppelganger still lives to create evil," Belén sighed. "And I was scared too, until Barry made me see something. Those doppelgangers of ours had no one. Those they had... wasn't the same relationship. Your doppelganger, as far as we know, had no Caitlin Snow, no Barry Allen, no STAR Labs team. My doppelganger had Barry but it wasn't the same relationship. She didn't have enough confidence in him to share with him what was going on. Let's not even get into what Earth's 2 Caitlin was missing. My point is, we-" Belén pointed between them, "-have the best family on this Earth. They are what keep us grounded. We are never going to turn into our doppelgangers. You are Vibe and you are a whole lot better than Reverb."

"You didn't even meet Reverb," Cisco remarked but Belén detected traces of his usual humor in his tone.

"Yeah but I didn't need to. I just know it."

Cisco chuckled. "Thanks, Bells."

"Well I figured since you've given me a thousand ways to get back on my feet, I owed you one," Belén secured him in a tight hug, refusing to let go until he promised to again with the breeches.

Once she was clear, she left the workshop to find Barry lingering just a tad too close to not be able to hear what she said. He was smiling strangely at her, making her laugh.

"What?"

"I forgot to pass on a message from your Earth 38 doppelganger."

"Oh? What was it?" Belén wondered if it was a tip for the future like, eat more of this and less of that. She could do with those cheat sheets.

"She said that you are the best version of all the Beléns in the multiverse," Barry came closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You're the bravest because you fight every day against metas, put your job at risk for people you don't know. You're the best."

Belén actually felt a few tears trying to come up in her eyes. "She really said that?"

"Mhm, she just missed one thing..."

"Like what?"

"That you are such a good friend."

Belén blushed under his intense gaze. "You think that's true?"

"I know it's true. I see it every day, I just saw it right now. You're the best, Bells." Barry lowered down to press a soft kiss over her lips. Belén wrapped her arms around his neck just to keep them close for a moment.

They still had plenty to do afterwards.

~0~

Harry had added onto Barry's suit's emblem proposed to help Barry stop Zoom. He placed the emblem back on the suit and turned the others in the cortex. "You're all set. He won't even know it's there."

"Cause whoever said aesthetics aren't important," Cisco meant as joke but Harry retorted with a sarcastic 'not me' and walked away from him.

Barry noticed how Caitlin was throwing uncomfortable looks all around the room. "Hey, Cait, I know how hard this is gonna be for you, but we have to stop him."

"I know, and I want to be supportive," Caitlin promised and scooted closer to Belén. "I just... I can't face Jay. Or whatever his real name is."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you remember when I was looking for his doppelganger, right?"

"Yeah. And you couldn't find him."

"Because there is no Jay Garrick on this Earth. His doppelganger's name is Hunter Zolomon."

From across the room, Harry stopped. "Hunter Zolomon? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why?" Caitlin dreaded yet another lie of 'Jay' would come out.

Harry flipped the lid of his watch and started pulling up images. "Well, because on my Earth, Hunter Zolomon was a convicted serial killer."

Two conviction pictures of Jay - or Hunter Zolomon - faced the group. He had long, messy hair and an equally messy long beard.

"Is that really Jay?" Belén nearly had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing something else.

"No, that is Hunter," Harry pointed at the pictures. "Last public photo of Hunter Zolomon. Instantly recognizable. And people from my Earth... on my Earth, serial killers are an anomaly, so a lot of media attention to this. There was a podcast. When Hunter was 11, his father killed his mother right in front of him. Father sent to prison, Hunter grew up in the foster care system. Years later he was convicted on 23 counts of murder."

Cisco gawked at the number. "23? That's, like, some real Hannibal Lecter type level."

"Well, with that kind of background, there was always a potential risk for something like this to happen," Belén crossed her arms and received odd glances from her friends. "What? I took an elective Child Development course."

Harry continued with the story for them to know the ending. "After the trial, Hunter was sent to the Saint Perez Mental Asylum for the Criminally Insane... given daily electroshock therapy. Cure him of his urges and then faded from view."

"Until the night your particle accelerator exploded," Belén realized.

"That's right. The dark matter crept into the mental asylum. I had thought... piping the explosion underground would limit exposure. I was wrong. All it did was create an unstoppable monster." Harry grumbling took the images down and closed the lid of his watch.

Barry had began to think of the new information and wondered if he could use it against Jay/Hunter. "He's not unstoppable. Jay doesn't know that we know who he really is. He thinks that his past is a secret."

"You've got your thinking face on," Belén noticed, her curiosity growing by the second. What had he thought of?

Barry smirked. "I think I have an idea of how we can stop him."

~ 0 ~

Harry and Cisco led Belén, Caitlin, Iris, Veronica and Joe into the safe room. Caitlin held onto a handheld tablet recording the future movements of Barry. They couldn't risk Jay getting to them as using them as bait. And since they would be inside, they made sure that Shivhan and Nina would be far away as well, just in case. 'Jay' was never close to either woman but it didn't mean they wanted to risk them, so Shivhan took Nina to the former's old neighborhood in the lower parts of the city for a while.

"Are you sure Jay can't get in here?" Iris looked around the safe room with some bad memories seeping through.

"Pretty sure, but just in case," Harry handed Joe a large gun-like weapon.

Joe secured the weapon in his arms. "How do you use this?"

"All right, so you aim it, and then you pull the trigger," Harry said, dead serious.

"Smart ass," Joe spat but Harry smiled nonetheless.

"Barry and Cisco are in position," Caitlin looked up from the tablet.

Belén made sure to be right next to Caitlin. Since she wasn't allowed to help, she would at least know what was going on at all times. "Let's hope this thing works."

~ 0 ~

"You ready, buddy?" Barry stopped in the middle of the abandoned hospital.

Cisco stood next to him, nervously putting on his goggles. "Yeah. You guys always believed in me. Thank you."

"You got this," Barry assured.

Cisco nodded and got ready to open the same breech.

~0~

Datura's eyes flashed red as a rush of images passed in her mind. Each one hurt more than the last. "He's going to open another one…" Zoom turned on her expecting much more than she was giving. She swallowed hard and focused more. "U-uh...the hospital, again. But…" her eyes drifted to the side, "... you're gonna need my help."

"I don't need anyone's help," Zoom towered over her.

"You will. They're going to pull something. Retribution. I'm good at that." Datura failed to look the speedster in the eyes. "Let me come...please…"

~0~

Cisco felt the familiar strain of opening the breech but this time he did not fall back. He was determined to help put an end to Zoom's reign of terror. This was his part and he would he damned if he let his friends down. The blue energy circled in the air until it formed a direct breech into the next world. Almost immediately Zoom jumped out but he was not alone.

Cisco let out a small noise at the sight of a maskless Datura behind Zoom. She was getting braver. "She's not supposed to come!"

Barry was stunned with her presence but he had to force himself not to pay her the attention that would inevitably hurt him.

"Well I have," Datura did her best so that her voice resembled nothing but strength. "And I'm ready to play...but you're the wrong players." Thick green vines entangled themselves around her body until she was no more. The vines made a beeline for the cracked window and disappeared.

"She's heading to STAR Labs…" Cisco didn't need any clue to figure that out. Barry gave him a nod to get going. Cisco ran out of the building and intended on breaching as fast as possible to STAR Labs.

"Reverb's doppelganger has increased his powers," Zoom took notice.

Barry directed his fiercest glare at him. "Hatred is a strong motivator."

"You were unwise to reopen the breach."

"I'm not gonna let you terrorize another world anymore."

"Without your speed, you won't be able to stop me."

Barry almost laughed. " Let's see," he began the game and sped out.

Zoom followed after him.

~0~

Caitlin didn't mind the fact Belén was gripping onto her arm to the point blood circulation was close to shutting down, it was justifiable. Caitlin held the tablet in her hands and was following every movement of Barry's, which now showed the speedster running downtown.

"Zoom's gaining on Barry," she informed the rest.

"He can't catch him!" Belén exclaimed. "Oh my God, what if he does? What if—"

"He won't," Iris put a hand on her arm, reassuring her with a small smile.

Cisco walked into the safe room with an urgent look on his face. "She's coming!" Everyone else gave him confused stares. "Your—" Cisco threw a finger at Belén who merely blinked, "—doppelganger. She's here — I mean, she's coming! Now!"

"What? What for?" Iris made a face.

"We have her cure and her redhead friend locked up in the same building…" Belén said slowly, exchanging a knowing look with Caitlin. "Looks like we're doing this right now."

"Doing what?" Harry narrowed his eyes on her, pretty sure where this was about to go. "You are not leaving this safe room!"

"She is coming!" Belén snapped, already backing away. "And do you really think she'll just come in and take Poison Ivy and just leave? No. Not in a million years! She's not leaving until she finds me so I might as well just go out!"

"Belén, she's a killer!" Veronica was terrified of the idea of her daughter fighting that doppelganger.

"Yeah, I know, which is why I have to go and stop her! I just said that!"

"I hate to agree but she is Datura so she can access the pipeline system and any of our other security systems," Cisco scrunched his face when everyone's gazes turned to him. "In retrospect, I should probably try to find a way around that already."

Veronica wished he would shut the hell up already.

"Zoom's almost got Barry!" Caitlin suddenly shouted, too startled to have kept it down. Everyone crowded around her to see how the speedsters were doing outside.

"He's getting away again," Iris relaxed when she saw Barry's track-dot getting farther and farther from Zoom's.

"They're almost to the building," Caitlin told the others.

"Guys…" Cisco's voice drew their gazes from Caitlin's tablet. He made a motion for them to notice that Belén was already gone.

"Belén!" Veronica shouted incredulously.

"Dammit," Harry gritted his teeth. "She's just as crazy as Allen!"

"What do we do now!?" Iris frantically waited for someone to say something.

"We can't do anything…" Caitlin said, looking up from her tablet. "This thing just detected a visitor and it's not a speedster."

"Great," Harry muttered.

~ 0 ~

The pipeline room was dead empty and far too easy to get into. Datura hummed as she made her way up to the access controls. She was about to pull off her black glove when a vine grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

"You didn't actually think you were just going to waltz in and get what you want, did you?" Belén swallowed hard now that she was face to face with her doppelganger. It was so weird seeing her own face, herself, standing across her.

Datura got over her initial agitation and smiled, amused with Belén's reaction. Fire erupted over her arm, burning away the vine on her wrist. She refit her glove over her hand, her brown curls bouncing with the movement. As soon as she did, Belén froze in her spot. Her eyes were wide but her fists were balled for a fight.

"What's the matter?" Datura's voice was mocking. "Take your breath away?"

It was hard for Belén to see her face on someone else, and much more on a person who looked ready to inflict pain on anyone. There was no getting used to that.

"When did he get the courage to tell you? Did you cry? I bet you cried," Datura slipped a smirk between her words. "Are you as much of a crier as I once was?"

Belén's jaw tightened. Datura lived to make her life miserable whether it was with violence or the old fashion word jabs. She couldn't keep falling for it and give Datura what she wanted. She raised a threatening hand towards Datura. "Zoom and Barry are downstairs and when Barry catches Zoom, you and him are going to go in the pipeline."

Datura raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" she laughed. "It's funny you think that's going to work. Now please, go back into hiding or something and let me get my friend, alright? You're actually second on my list tonight."

Belén almost laughed when she was waved off. Belén thrust forwards a vine that knocked Datura to the side. "You are not getting anyone!" she stalked towards her doppelganger.

Datura peeled herself off the wall and glowered at her. Eyes flashed blue and a familiar voice rang through her mouth. "You're an idiot if you think you could ever win against me!" Her hands billowed with icy smoke.

"Caitlin?" Belén's eyes widened. She would recognize that voice anywhere, even if it was on someone else. Datura pulled her hands back and shot icicles forwards. Belén had to throw herself on the ground to avoid being hit. "How are you Caitlin!?" she asked after being able to raise her head off the ground.

Datura was smirking with eyes still flashing blue. "I'm Killer Frost," she said in the icy meta's voice. She threw more icicles at Belén who rolled to the side just in time.

Belén picked herself up and blew her strongest breath outwards, poisoning the air in the room. She didn't expect to make a strong blow since poison was probably nothing against Datura - just like she was - so she was mighty surprised to see Datura wobbling on her feet for a second. The blue in her eyes faded rapidly and, if Belén had to describe it, the woman looked far too pale to be "normal".

But then Datura pulled herself together and a yellow hue swirled in her eyes. Electricity crackled around her hands and she didn't waste a second shooting at Belén again. "Run, birdy!" Datura's voice was overlapping with a male's voice.

Belén dismantled into vines and disappeared from Datura's sight. Her figure formed behind Datura and easily kicked her on the back. Datura rolled on the ground and Belén jumped at chance to keep her down. She wrestled with Datura to keep her on the ground and was subjected to various power changes from the siphoner. There was frost, electricity, energy beams, light and more but Belén wouldn't give up. She delivered two punches across Datura's face - a very satisfying moment - and got blood on her hands.

Datura's head lulled to the side but she was not unconscious. There was a visible weakness in her face that Belén took into consideration. This didn't exactly look like the killer siphoner she'd been fighting this year. Granted, she was vicious in a fight but there was an unaccounted new weakness lacing her movements. Her overall strength seemed to falter after one blow.

Redness passed through Datura's eyes as she gasped. New images were delivered to her mind, ones that delivered several painful jabs to her head. "Your plan... it's going to fail. The shackle… it's going to break" Belén was taken aback from the certainty in the woman's face. Datura smiled through her weakness. "And Barry's going to give it up."

Belén's eyebrows knitted together with further confusion. "Take what back?"

Datura merely chuckled. She latched a hand onto Belén's arm and quickly said, "Tell Ivy I'm coming back for her soon." The electricity passed onto Belén in aggressive shocks, making her scream until she fell to the side and lost consciousness.

~0~

The next time Belén was awake and looking at things, she was in a side room of the cortex with Caitlin acting as her overprotective nurse. Her mother was on the other side of the bed. It took a couple of minutes for Belén's ears to start working again but she could pretty much make out the scold her mother was giving her.

"...it was unnecessary! She could've killed you! What were you thinking!?"

Belén lazily blinked at her mother. "Please, my head doesn't already hurt. Caitlin, tell me you got the blood?"

Caitlin came over with a sigh. "Yes, but your mother's right. You shouldn't have gone off like that without backup."

"Bells, you're awake," Barry came right in. He was back in his regular clothes but Belén couldn't dismiss the pure disappointment in his face. "Cait, is she going to be okay?"

"Well, never mind the fact she received a massive surge of electric shocks-" Caitlin began in her reprimanding tone.

"Caitlin," Belén warned her to simply stop.

The brunette sighed as began again. "Yes, she'll be fine."

"That doesn't mean you can just keep doing that!" Veronica huffed as she got up from her seat. "Can you please tell her that?" she asked Barry on her way out.

"Hey, guess what?" Belén smiled at Barry despite her mother's scold, eager to tell him what she'd gotten for the cure. "I punched my doppelganger enough to get blood for your samples. Tell me I did good."

Even though the night hadn't turned out like he wanted, Barry smiled back at her. He'd been extra scared after learning what she'd done while he dealt with Zoom and seeing her frazzled body in the pipeline hadn't been any better. He leaned closer to her and grabbed her hand. "You shouldn't have faced her like that. Who knows what she could've done."

"She can't kill me yet," Belén said matter-of-factly. "And with how she looks now, I doubt she'd ever be able to."

At that comment, Barry straightened in his chair. "What do you mean?"

Belén pushed herself to sit upright. "She looks...sick. Like, pale face and weak. She's supposed to be this big, bad siphoner but I nearly took her down with minimal poison from my system."

"It is possible that her illness is advancing and affecting her stamina," Caitlin offered as a reason. "It's natural."

"Which means if we want to cure her, we have to work fast," Barry nodded. "But with Zoom still out there I don't see how that's supposed to happen."

"Zoom is still out there?" Belén blinked. She hadn't yet been informed on how the original plan had gone.

Barry sighed and looked down, almost ashamed to see her in the eyes. "I let him get away. I had him - I was so close - and he...just got away."

Belén gripped his hand already around hers. "It's not your fault."

"I lost again and now he's out here again," Barry couldn't stop feeling guilty.

His words, however, made her think of Datura. She was just about to speak of that when Cisco came running in to tell them Iris had called with devastating news. Despite Caitlin's caution to stay in bed, Belén followed them to the cortex to where Cisco and Harry were. They had pulled up the image of a text Iris had sent them.

'Your speed for Wally's life.'

"He took Wally," Caitlin covered her mouth in horror.

"Iris said the whole house is thrashed," Cisco filled them in. "Wally's nowhere to be seen."

"Speed…give it up…" Belén mumbled, her mind replaying what Datura had said. "That bitch warned me."

"What?" Barry looked at her oddly, for a second thinking Caitlin had missed a possible concussion.

Belén faced her friends with a frustration she had for herself. "When I was fighting Datura, she said something like this," she motioned to the phrase on the screen. "She said Barry would have to give something up and I-I didn't make much of it but... I'm so sorry," she said with devastation. Her eyes met with Barry's and he could see they were filling fast with guilt. "If I had paid more attention I could have seen it coming and I-I…" Barry took her into a hug, his face expressing deep confusion much like the rest in the room.

"No, sorry," Cisco laughed sourly as he grew more and more outraged, "Are you implying that psycho siphoner can now see the future?" All Belén could do was shrug unsurely. "No! She can't have all these powers! That's just not fair!"

"Calm down," Harry ordered him. "Datura must have just known the plan Zoom had."

"She knew you were going to use the shackle to keep Zoom put," Belén told Barry. "She laughed at it. She knew our plan. Not even Zoom knew it right?"

Barry thought back to his fight with Zoom. The way he had reacted when he saw the cutouts of his parents was far too raw to be fake. He couldn't have known. "So she siphoned psychic abilities recently…"

"She's crazy," Belén declared. "You know she said she was Killer Frost at one point during our fight? She even sounded like Caitlin…" she threw her friend in question a look.

"Me?" Caitlin didn't even want to think of her dead doppelganger.

"She talked like she was actually Killer Frost and...and these other people," Belén crinkled her nose. "She's really is sick."

"She's deranged and she needs to be locked up," Harry put it into simple terms. "No cures, no anything but right now, we need to focus on getting Wally back. Come back to your psychiatric profile later."

He parted with those words that did ring truth for the moment.

~0~

As Wally began to wake up, his ears picked up a slur of an argument from a distance. It took him only a minute to realize he'd been put in a worn out cell somewhere far and dirty. He picked himself up and the first thing he saw was a second prisoner hidden behind a thick, metal head mask.

"You lied to me and that is lethal to your condition," Wally then heard from the side. He turned to find the black-masked figure who had taken him in the first place. He was arguing with a smaller, female figure.

"I had to get Ivy! I need her!" The voice sounded familiar albeit with traces of a...cold? Who knew.

Zoom snatched her by the neck and pulled her towards him. "You begged me to take you with me and this is how you repay me?"

"I-I can't...siphon...without her!" Datura struggled to say it one go with the lack of oxygen she was getting.

"You're going to siphon the speed force out of Flash and if you don't I'll kill you on the spot," Zoom unceremoniously let Datura fall on the ground.

The woman coughed violently the moment her lungs could extract air from outside. It was then that Zoom noticed the newest prisoner had awoken and was watching them.

Wally stepped back when Zoom started coming towards his cell. "Scared?" Zoom taunted him.

"Someone's gonna get me out," Wally said with some level of determination. Someone would have to notice he was kidnapped right?

"There's only one person who can help you now," Zoom neared the bars of the cell. "The Flash."

Wally blinked. "The Flash? Why would he help me? He doesn't even know who I am."

"Someone he cares about... cares about you."

~ 0 ~

Everyone had re-gathered in the cortex with the intention of getting word to Zoom he had a deal. It only took one vibe of Cisco to get Zoom ready.

"Barry, are you sure?" the speedster kept hearing over and over in the meanwhile they waited for Zoom to show up.

And over and over, Barry kept tell them that he was. He wasn't happy about handing over his speed to a monster but it meant saving Wally's life. He was definitely sure about that. He was also sure this wasn't over. It was a bump in the road, admittedly a big bump, but they would cross it and come back with something big.

Eventually, Zoom arrived to the cortex with Wally in hand. His other hand was latched onto Datura's covered arm. As soon as Wally saw his family he tried going to them.

"Let him go," Barry ordered him.

"We had a deal," Zoom reminded just in case they tried anything with him. Both Veronica and Joe were aiming at him with guns and who knew what else they had hidden around.

"My speed for Wally's life. Hand him over, and it's yours."

Zoom let Wally go with no questions. Wally rushed to hug Iris and was promptly rushed away with car keys in her hand. They were not taking a second chance.

"Let's get this over with," Barry had nothing left to say.

Zoom tore his mask off and smirked. "Indeed." He pushed Datura forwards, the woman threw him a hidden glare but dared not to actually back. "Siphon him," he gave the order.

"I can't," she said quietly, surprising the others.

Zoom looked nowhere surprised like them. He expected it, and he didn't care. "I said siphon him."

Datura pursed her lips and looked down. "I told you I can't!"

"And I said do it!"

Datura lost her patience and whirled around. "You had me siphoning left to right just to find a metahuman with similar abilities to Reverb and I told you it would weaken me! I siphon one more person and I might not make it. You are not gonna do me like you did with Killer Frost — I know what I can do with her powers!"

There was a tension-filled silence in the room and no one knowing what would happen next.

"She doesn't...she doesn't have to do anything," Barry was the one to speak up and was grateful to have Jay's attention.

Datura, on the other hand, shot him a glare. "Contrary to your usual routines at home, I—" she gestured to herself, "—don't need your help."

"Shut up if you want to live," Belén said through gritted teeth. This only infuriated the doppelganger even more.

"We've got the way to get the speedforce out of my system," Barry went on, acting as if Datura had never spoken in the first place. "And no foul play. Harry?"

Begrudgingly, Harry stepped forwards a familiar device in hand. "This thing is how I stole The Flash's speed the first time. Now all he needs to do is run, and his Speed Force will transfer into this vial. but only as long as I calibrate it. "

"Get to work," Jay gestured for them to get to work then. He didn't care how he got the speed he just wanted it and he was gonna get it.

Harry despised the man already but with the smug face of Jay, he nearly lost it. "One day... I'm gonna knock that smug expression clean off your face."

Jay smirked as Harry was forced to go get things ready.

"So this was your plan all along, huh?" Barry couldn't take his glare off Jay for anything.

Jay, on the other hand, was gleeful as ever. "Ever since the skies parted and showed me another world... with another speedster. Once I saw you, I came here, figured out what I had to do."

"How the hell are you still alive?" Belén had to get the answer for that mystery everyone was still questioning about. "We literally saw you kill yourself."

"Yeah, you did," Jay said, quite proud of his action.

"So what was that? A speed mirage?" Cisco wondered.

"Speed mirage?" Jay laughed as he leaned back on the desk. "Uh, no. Even I'm not that fast. I knew that I couldn't be on two Earths at the same time, so I went back in time and, uh, met another version of myself."

"Your time remnant," Caitlin blinked. "Like the Reverse-Flash."

"I also knew that the only way to make Barry become faster was if you all witnessed your old pal Jay die."

"When did you decide to do that?" inquired Iris, although she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Oh, once you closed all the breaches, went to Earth-2. Believe me, getting my time remnant to agree to me murdering him took a bit of convincing. But once he saw the... well, the genius in my plan, he was all for it."

"Who's the man in the iron mask?" Barry recalled the prison who he still had a promise to keep.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Jay answered, giving the face that was all they were going to get over that.

"But why the charade?" Joe asked. "Running around dressed like The Flash?"

"To give people hope, Detective."

"Hope?

"So I could rip it away from them. It's so fun pretending to be a hero."

The last statement frustrated Caitlin to no point's end. She worked with actual heroes and Jay was certainly the opposite of that. "You are no hero. You're nothing but a monster!"

At the same time, Harry returned and was angry to say everything was ready. Jay was the first one to go for the training room.

Belén nudged Cisco and motioned him with her head to look at Datura. The woman was standing sideways, her face distant yet calculating. Belén recognized the flicker of red in her doppelganger's eyes.

"Quite the new power you got there," Cisco spoke up. Datura slowly looked at them, however there was no describable emotion on her just yet. "Shame you can't use it all, though," Cisco smirked. "There's no way you can master that ability in the condition you're in."

"We can help you…" Belén had to force herself to say it with a straight face. She glanced at the training room where she could see Harry explaining to both Barry and Jay something.

Datura laughed shortly. "How romantic. A twisted, romantic story but an interesting one nonetheless. I know what I need to survive and I'm looking right at her."

"You can't take her anywhere," Cisco stepped forwards. "You won't."

"We'll see," Datura briefly gave her doppelganger a lookover before her eyes laid on Barry. "His neck is going to hurt." She walked towards the training room with a devious smirk on her face.

"Watch her," Belén mumbled to Cisco as the two followed her.

~ 0 ~

The group was forced to watch Barry glumly get on his special treadmill. Jay was closely standing next to Harry over the controls. Barry began to run in his normal, speedy manner but as the seconds ticked by it progressively became slower.

"He's slowing down…" Belén said quietly. On the computer, she could see the speed force filling the syringe Harry had plugged in.

"The Speed Force is leaving his body," Harry registered.

"He's becoming human again," Cisco mumbled. He noticed Datura silently stepping back. She was planning something alright.

Eventually, Barry's speed vanished and he toppled over the treadmill and fell on the ground. The others bolted into the training room to help him up.

"Barry, are you okay!?" Belén helped him sit upright on the ground.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," Barry tried to say amongst the commotion.

Jay was intently watching Harry put together the syringe and snatched it out of his hands the moment it was ready. He didn't hesitate to plunge it into himself. Blue and yellow smoke hissed out from the action. His eyes darkened in blue for a second until everything vanished. He then sped into the room and snatched Barry by the neck off the ground.

Datura smirked and ran out the other direction. Cisco tried stopping her by grabbing her by the arm. "You're not going anywhere!"

Datura raised an eyebrow. When her smirk widened, Cisco knew he was about to get it. She pulled the same trick of electricity that shocked him to the ground.

"Cisco!" Belén didn't know in what direction to go to. Datura had ran out to no doubt get Poison Ivy, and this time she would succeed. On one side, Belén had Cisco on the ground, probably unconscious, and on the other side was Zoom threatening to choke the life out of Barry.

"Jay, stop! Please!" Caitlin ran up to the two speedsters. She was in tears but determined to save her friend. "If anything you ever said to me was true, or anything we ever shared was real, then please just let him go. Please!" Zoom did not move and Barry grew paler and paler from the lack of oxygen. "I know some piece of you did care for me, so if you have any humanity left, then please, let him go!"

Zoom dropped Barry to the ground and zipped out of the room...with Caitlin.

#ocfairygodmother #arrowverseocs #fd: the flash #the flash #barry allen #the flash fics #the flash imagines #barry allen fics #barry allen imagines #arrowverse ocs #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #fic: rise up

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purpurapoena · 2 years

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rough kiss 😘 (ʚϊɞ) - @et3rnal-paradise

Why wouldn’t he just drop dead? It would be the best thing he could ever do for her, despite his delusions that he had been, somehow, kind to her. A fancy prison was, in the end, still a prison and nothing more. Shinobu couldn’t care less if she had a bed or had been thrown into a dungeon to rot. Perhaps getting a cold and DIE would be a better solution to her situation. But just to think he might actually nurse her back to health just so he could continue to toy with her gave her shivers. And being as resistant as she was, it would even take a while for her to succumb to most common diseases. If only she could get her hands in a bit of wolfsbane. She remembered cultivating it in her gardens back at Buttefly Estate. But she wasn’t home anymore.

Shinobu failed to hit him with whatever she got her hands on, the glass shattering on the wall behind him, so close that even if it hadn’t been a direct hit, the shards would’ve cut his face. But she had enough ammunition from the assorted objects she had hoarded around her with that particular objective in mind. Her hand reached for another of the tubes, raising it next to her head. “Did you have fun? If you plan on forgetting me here and starving me to death at least give me my sword, I’ll do the job myself.” Her next thrown had been a bit worse, not even close enough to hurt in any way. Maybe next time. But she had been angry, locked for who knows how long -- and the lack of sunlight only made it look like it had been a very long night -- and definitely hungry. A terrible combination. The Hashira picked something else, a book. But she miscalculated twice. First, the book was a bit too heavy to be thrown. Secondly, he had way longer legs than her and the room wasn’t that big.

One second she had been weighting the book in her hand and in the next her hand had been emptied. He was too close now, hand dangerously around her neck. But it would’ve been throwing so much away if he were to kill her now. She still wondered if he would snap her neck if she struggled, even if she had nowhere to run. It would’ve been b e t t e r. Limiting herself to tilt her head up, she maintained the furious look she had been giving him all along, despite the fact the he could certainly feel her pulse accelerate through his cold touch on her skin. However, she could not bring herself to decipher his thoughts. Did she finally annoy him that much? Opening her lips to question, she was interrupted by his mouth clashing against her. Hard. She could barely breathe. And it hurt. Her tongue tasted the characteristic metallic taste of her own blood when his fangs broke her skin. Unsuccessfully, her hands on his chest tried to push him away only to resign at scrunching the fabric of his clothes angrily, knuckles going white, wishing she could serve his head on a platter.

#et3rnalparadise #rp #answered #v;there are things we have to do

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sswissy · 2 years

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𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅

𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆

Ever since Rain had been summoned, Bellamira had attempted a friendship with the water ghoul which took forever to accomplish. Both were painfully awkward in social settings and kept to themselves ninety percent of the time. That's what made their friendship work most of the time even when Mira was babbling on about mundane human things. Rain felt fortunate to have a friend who was so similar to him considering the other ghouls were the complete opposite of him.

Bellamira had been pacing in front of the rehearsal doors waiting for Rain after finishing her chores. There was also a group of new siblings that had to be shown the abbey in great detail that morning. Sister Imperator had given her specific tasks that differed from the other sisters after being in the abbey for so long; since birth like the Papa's before Cardinal.

"You're gonna have holes in your soles like Terzo pacing like that." Rain raised an eyebrow at his human friend. Bellamira narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms, tapping a foot against the stone tile. Terzo was kind of a sore topic around the entire clergy but especially to her. They'd practically been raised together, well minus several years, and it was still hard processing his passing.

"Oh shut it, rehearsals ran later than usual huh? Dew set the stage on fire again?" Bellamira and Ran had begun walking down the corridor, passing a few sisters along the way side eyeing the two. Most siblings were either fearful of the ghouls or were interested in bedding one of them for the experience. According to many siblings, the ghouls were passionate lovers and extremely dominant over their partners. It took a while for Mira to stop dreaming about what Swiss was like in bed after that.

"Surprisingly no, Swiss was actually late this time." Rain stated while thinking back to the conversation all of them had. His excuse being that a very flustered sister held him back. This was definitely not a good enough reason to the Imperator for running behind and assured them they'd be practicing longer than usual.

"Hm I could've sworn-" Bellamira pondered back to when he interrupted her that morning. It was definitely before rehearsals unless? Sister Imperator had already given her a stern talking to after causing Rain to be late from a serious debate over who was better at Mario Kart.

"I figured the words sister and flustered in one sentence meant it was you. So did you actually talk to him this time or just stare at him starry eyed?" Rain chuckled. His little human friend was clueless when it came to his brother and the obvious fact he was equally interested with her. But without him being there, Mira was like a fish out of water. Swiss mentioned it being really cute once, Rain simply face palmed at how oblivious she was.

"Okay so he completely caught me off guard this time, Rainy!" Mira whined. This caused the water ghoul to stop in his tracks. There had been multiple times that she had made a fool out of herself in front of his brother. Especially that 'disaster' at the album release celebration last year which would've been fine if Mira hadn't run away from Swiss every time after that.

Apparently if you let Bellamira drink nearly a whole bottle of wine, her confidence level was through the roof. Rain was shocked when Dew gestured to Mira grinding on Swiss on the dance floor. If it wasn't for the alcohol, Mira definitely wouldn't have planted a kiss right on his brothers lips that night. But unfortunately she didn't remember a thing, was still terrified of Swiss, and he figured she regretted it. Luckily Rain was able to convince him that she was just really nervous around him but liked him more than she admitted. Hopefully Mira would never find out that he told Swiss but it was better than him equally avoiding her after that.

"Don't tell me you face planted into another pillar again?" Rain groaned. This was something that happened commonly which should've came as surprise considering Mira knew this abbey inside and out. Mira smacked him lightly on the arm for bringing up the incident again, the knot on her head after that was horrendous. Cardi had teased her for weeks about it, sill did sometimes.

"I may have been talking to the walls but it's Cardi's fault this time!" Mira grumbled. If it wasn't for his terrible parenting job then this wouldn't be an issue. Rain had chuckled at the image being painted in his mind.

"It's not funny, Rainy! This is why he's never going to like me back, why can't I just be like the other sisters?" She had felt crushed over the interaction. It was easy for all the other siblings to get who they wanted in the clergy but it was extremely difficult for her. Plus leave it to her to be head over heels over a ghoul who was overly confident and was able to have any sister under him in seconds.

"Mira, you don't have to be like the other siblings for Swiss to like you. You just have to stop running away from him and actually talk to him." Rain ran his hand up and down on her back in an attempt to comfort her. If Mira could just spend time with him then maybe she could realize that Swiss was very interested in knowing her. Rain knew his brother quite well from being so observant since his summoning. Ever since that party, Swiss purposely tried bumping into her and would tease her hoping that something would come from it.

"He's just so...ugh!" Mira stomped a foot in frustration. Everything about him flustered the hell out of her especially with this new uniform. His cute smile mixed with that head tilt he did, the goggles blocking his gorgeous eyes. Rain shook her out of the day dream Mira was in when he noticed the goofy smile growing on her face. Honestly it was kind of sweet how much his human friend liked Swiss, he was actually hopeful that something would happen between them.

"How about I start coaching you in basic conversation?" Rain suggested while tugging the girl alongside him. He may have been a rather quiet ghoul but wasn't lacking in expertise with either seducing someone or trying to court someone. Granted Mira wasn't the best in social skills, Rain knew she was capable of it and it wouldn't take much for things to move along with his brother with practice. Just it would take a lot of patience and maybe a conversation with Swiss about toning down on his teasing.

taglist:

@mellie-teh-goblin-queen

#swiss ghoul #ghost bc #ghost band #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #longing for you fic

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Heeey! Can I request for the Father of Mine universe? Something along the lines of hickeys, maybe smeared lipstick all over their faces at an event, family dinner or something like that?

“Just skip it and stay here with me,” Jason offered as he leaned against the bathroom frame, shirtless and with his arms crossed.

He had been watching Y/N get ready for at least 15 minutes.

She was currently putting on blood red lipstick that went perfectly with her black winged eyeliner.

Jason wasn’t a big lipstick guy – mostly because it prevented him from kissing his girlfriend the way he wanted to. But he couldn’t deny that it looked incredibly sexy.

“I can’t. I promised Bruce,” Y/N explained as she looked at him through the mirror.

“There will always be other charity events,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

But he’d had enough of keeping his distance and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He started peppering kisses on her shoulders since her dress was leaving the skin completely exposed and he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” she began, “you could always come with me.”

Jason stopped his kissing.

“Guess that’s a no?” Y/N sighed with a shy grin.

But she didn’t really care.

Y/N understood that Jason hated these events. To be honest, she might hate them just as much. But Bruce kept asking her and she tried to go when she could. Sometimes she needed breaks and her father understood that.

Jason ignored her question and his hands started roaming heatedly across her body.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N warned, immediately pushing him away.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Jason laughed innocently.

“Not yet,” she spun around and pointed at him. “But you were going to!”

“And is that so bad?” He asked with a crooked smirk.

“It is when I’m running late. And the reason I’m late is because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me an hour ago.”

Jason tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t exactly hear any complaints…”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from laughing and shook her head.

No, there had definitely been absolutely no complaints from her.

“I won’t be there long,” Y/N promised.

Then she brushed past him and walked into the giant walk-in closet.

Barely even glancing at all the shoes, she grabbed a pair that matched her dress.

“Can we order pizza or something when I get back? I’ll be starving.” Y/N asked mindlessly as she slipped the shoes on, using the wall to balance herself.

Jason didn’t even realize he was staring.

But how could he not?

The dress was simple. Just a little black dress. It was a charity event after all. But it fit Y/N like a glove, hugging her in all the right places.

Her heels were at least 4 inches, putting her eye level with Jason – if not a tiny bit taller. She would be above the majority of men at the event, except for probably a small handful.

“What?” Y/N asked self consciously. “Too tall?”

“No such fucking thing,” Jason quickly answered.

Y/N usually wasn’t self conscious about her height. She kind of had to get over that back in high school when she was taller than most of the boys in her grade.

But that didn’t mean she completely stopped having slip-ups. Slip-ups that involved questioning her heels or outfit.

Thankfully, Jason was quick to remedy such situations.

“You just look so beautiful,” Jason added as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips possessively.

Y/N kissed him. “Thank you.”

But she opened her mouth to give another warning.

“You’re gonna be late,” Jason spoke for her. “I know. I know.”

Y/N tried not to laugh at her boyfriends desperation as she grabbed her clutch.

“Remember: pizza!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

————

Bruce and Damian were waiting for Y/N at the venue.

Dick and Tim skipped, going to these things less and less as they became fully grown men with lives of their own.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce greeted as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N was about to turn her attention to Damian and give him a hug.

“What the hell is on your neck!?” The boy cried out before she could.

She blinked in surprise, completely unaware of what her half brother was talking about. Self-consciously, her hand went to the sides of her neck, not sure what she should be hiding.

“Can Todd not keep his hands to himself for 30 seconds?” Damian growled.

That’s when it clicked.

Y/N had a hickey on her neck.

“Damian, lower your voice,” Bruce warned his son.

Meanwhile, Y/N started feeling hot from embarrassment.

“Father, make him stop,” Damian whined.

To her surprise, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Damian, Y/N is a grown woman in a relationship. She can do as she pleases.”

It was the right answer, but Y/N was still sweating from the embarrassment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she quickly mumbled, before disappearing to the nearest bathroom.

But Y/N swore she heard Bruce continuing to scold Damian for his rudeness and for embarrassing her.

When she reached the bathroom, she lifted her head to see that she very much did have a hickey on her neck. It was perfectly hidden in the shadow of her jaw, which was why she hadn’t noticed it while getting ready. If she had, she would’ve put 5 layers of makeup on it to make sure her family didn’t notice.

Thankfully, she brought some cover up with her and quickly started going to work.

After 10 minutes, it was invisible and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

She pulled out her cellphone, glaring at it as if were her boyfriend.

“You better start behaving. Damian and Bruce just found a hickey on my neck. I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Y/N texted to Jason.

“Who cares?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course he’d answer with that.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’d prefer not remind my father and younger brother that I do in fact have a sex life.”

“A healthy, satisfied, and passionate sex life *,” Jason corrected.

Before she could respond, he texted again with, “Did you cover it up?”

“Obviously.”

“What a shame. Maybe it would’ve kept the spoiled rich boys away from you.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jason Todd.”

“Ooo. I love it when you use the full name. Gets me all hot and bothered.”

Y/N sighed and tossed her phone back into her clutch.

She’d given up on making Jason feel any bit of sympathy. That man would never feel guilty about showing the world how obsessed he was with her.

—————

Jason was reading on the couch when Y/N returned home.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted before returning to reading his book.

“Ugh. I drank too much champagne. I have the worst headache.”

“I’ll order some pizza,” Jason offered and pulled out his phone.

Y/N sighed in relief when she took off her heels and then she collapsed on the couch, laying her head on Jason’s lap as he placed their order.

Without thinking, his free hand when to her head and started massaging it, hoping it would help with her migraine.

“Hmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed. “That feels better.”

“Order has been placed,” he confirmed.

“Thank you.”

“Arrives in 30 minutes.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing exactly where he was going with it.

“What could we possibly do with 30 minutes?” Jason teased as he inched closer to her face.

She opened her eyes and giggled up at him.

“Ya know, I heard that sex helps cure migraines…”

“Does not!” Y/N yelled out.

Before she could argue with him further, his lips shut her up real quick.

For as large as Jason was, he managed to maneuver his body very gracefully, until he was hovering above Y/N while she lay comfortably on the couch.

“You look beautiful with lipstick,” Jason said it as if it was law. “But I like it even more when I ruin it,” he added with an almost evil smirk.

It was hard for Y/N to have a clever quip when he said things like that to her.

“How about I mark you up even more?” He threatened.

“Jason…” she warned.

But they both knew Y/N was pretending to be annoyed by it – or against it. When in reality, she kind of loved how obsessed Jason was with the idea.

Just when Jason hiked Y/N's dress up and was tracing her legs, someone cleared their throat.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and actually growled. Then he quickly lowered Y/N’s dress and tried to make her modest again.

Y/N covered her face and groaned. “Please, please, please tell me Bruce is not standing at the window right now.”

Jason smirked. “And Damian.”

Y/N pushed her boyfriend off of her and sat up to face them.

There stood Batman and Robin.

Tonight was just not her night.

“You have lipstick smeared all over you,” Damian pointed out to Jason smugly.

“I’d say one day you’d see the appeal, but I’m struggling to imagine anyone ever having that kind of interest in you,” Jason shot back.

“Jason!” Y/N scolded in a yell.

Then she quickly turned to Damian with a sympathetic look, “Dami, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jason corrected. “What do you guys want?”

“Red Robin is missing,” Bruce stated darkly.

“So…go find him,” Jason replied.

“We need your help,” Bruce clarified.

Jason groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. But we’re setting some fucking ground rules from now on. I’m sick of you guys invading our personal space. We have a door for a reason. Use it.”

Bruce just nodded.

Then he looked down at Damian and with a glare, got him to nod, too.

“I gotta change,” Jason told them, annoyance clear in his voice.

Y/N followed him into their bedroom, to give them a moment of privacy.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“They spent all night with you and now they have the balls to interrupt?” Jason shot back. “And I want my damn pizza.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I promise I’ll save you some.”

Jason was in his full gear now, Red Hood helmet tucked under his arm.

He took in a deep breath, tension easing off of him as he saw how cute she was looking up from the bed at him. Her lipstick was half off her lips, but she still looked beautiful.

“Promise you’ll be careful,” her tone was nothing but serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason dismissed as he leaned down at kissed her.

"And be nice to Damian."

"Never."

Jason went back to the living room where Bruce and Damian waited.

“You might want to rub some of that off,” Bruce mumbled as he turned and jumped on the window.

Jason glared at Batman’s back as he reluctantly rubbed Y/N’s lipstick off his mouth with his gloved hand.

Then he looked at Damian. “Say another word about it and I'll skin you alive.”

Damian gave him a dirty look, “I’m not scared of you.”

–––––––––

Let me know if you liked it!!!

#father of mine #father of mine bonus content #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x tall!reader #Bruce Wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #damian wayne x sister #batboys #batfam

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justauthoring · 3 years

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The Long Wait

Prompt: Eventually, the hoping became too much to bare. Requested by: no one.

A/N: This is basically a remake of this fic -- upon re-watching the GMG arc with my mom, I couldn’t help but look back at this fic and realize how much more I could’ve done with it. Thus, this was born. Pairing: Gray Fullbuster x F!Reader

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

Keeping your gaze trained to the ground, you absolutely refuse to look up -- because you know that if you did, your heart would break all over again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, words jumbled together, voice quiet that if the guild hall was so completely silent, they definitely wouldn’t have heard you. But they do, and they falter at the way you sound so absolutely broken. And of course, all of them were, but there was something different about the way you sounded -- it was like you were defeated.

Macao steps towards her, you hear it rather then see it, and can imagine his hand stretched out towards you, trying to placate you. “Y/N, we understand--” and he halts, voice catching in the back of his throat. “We understand more then anyone how you feel, but--”

“It’s different.” You find yourself cutting in, voice sharp, and you wince at yourself because you sound so incredibly selfish and rude. Who were you to say that your pain was any different from theirs? Any worse? But, still, you continue, your emotions getting the better of you. “It’s just... different. I... I can’t be here knowing they’re... he’s gone.”

“Y/N-nee, we don’t know that they’re gone!”

Your eyes fall shut at the sound of Romeo’s voice.

“We have to keep searching for them,” he argues, defiant, adamantly shaking his head. “They’re somewhere out there, I know that. And Gray wouldn’t--”

“They’re gone,” you hiss, interrupting him and finally glancing up to regard your friends, your family. They rear back at your harsh words, and that guilt festers even deeper inside of your chest, with the way they’re looking at you. Jet and Droy look near tears, and you know they’re thinking of Levy. And Bisca and Alzack look in shock at your outburst, you’re usually so quiet and calm. Macao looks angry, and the rest just stare at you, varying reactions that all mesh together.

Because really, it’s the way Romeo looks at you, still so young, so full hope as your words basically slap him in the face.

But you’re too far gone now, and there’s no stopping you.

“It’s been two years,” you continue, voice softer but still cutting, still hurtful. “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.”

He’s never coming back.

They don’t respond. No one argues, even if some look like they might. Maybe they’re understanding, maybe they’re finally getting it -- it’s been too long now and no one from the island is coming back. You’d been hopeful at first, you’d been like Romeo -- you’d refused to lose hope. But your heart is broken and there’s no mending it and you can’t keep staring at those doors all day expecting, hoping, praying that he’ll walk through them only for him never to.

So, you turn, nothing but a soft, sorrowful, pathetic apology leaving your lips as you turn your backs on your friends and leave them.

And as you turn, you see his familiar face, the dark black of his hair, that drawling smirk on his lips, and his cold, but always soft when directed at you eyes looking at you, but when you blink, he’s gone.

You huff at the weight dropped around your shoulders, inhaling deeply when you see a familiar puff of blonde hair.

“Did you hear?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. It’s pretty obvious.

“Fairy Tail will be competing again this year.”

When you turn to look at Sting, he’s smirking -- all bright eyed and giddy, and you hold back your own snark as you regard him with a small nod. Sting was one of the few to know of the fact that you used to be part of Fairy Tail -- him and Rogue, given that they were the ones who recruited you, and then the master as well.

It wasn’t news you were eager for everyone to know. Fairy Tail was a laughing stock in all respects now, but Sabertooth seemed to have a particular fondness of mocking the way the guild had fallen. And it was easy to hide you’d ever been apart of it given you hadn’t been a particularly well-known mage back when you’d been a member. Your powers were relatively new, and with, regrettably, the help of the Twin Dragon slayers you’d definitely grown in aspects of strength.

Three years since you’d joined Sabertooth -- two years of training on your own, and three of being surrounded by much stronger mages had you adapting and constantly changing. You were practically unrecognizable.

You were known at Y/N of Sabertooth now, and it was like the Y/N of Fairy Tail never even existed at all.

“I’m surprised,” you hum, shifting as Sting moves to take a seat next to you, still whilst having an arm draped over your arm. You blink at the sudden arrival of Rogue, not having heard him, as he takes a seat in front of you, before continuing. “They weren’t in it last year, or the year before if I remember. After finishing last every year before.”

You hadn’t been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but you do remember watching.

It had been... hard, to say the least.

“Ah, well, this year they have a new team.” Rogue explains blandly.

“New members, you should say,” Sting smirks.

Brows furrowed, you shake your head at their words, confusion flooding at you at the particular gleefulness of Sting’s expression. He always got a kick out of embarrassing other teams, not even just Fairy Tail, but there was something different about the way his eyes sparkled.

Sting meets your gaze, and without wavering, adds; “or should I say, old?”

Your breath catches, and even as your mind starts spinning, you’re all too aware of the way both Sting and Rogue are watching you carefully.

You turn from Rogue to Sting, and absolutely hate the gleam in the latter’s eyes as he smirks down at you. Keeping a tight hold on you, he pulls you closer, leaning until he’s a breaths away; “it’s a good thing I managed to convince the Master to let you on the team this year, Y/N,” he grins widely, “you’ll get to reunite with your old pales.”

That... that couldn’t be possible.

They were--They were dead. They are dead.

��I... I need some fresh air.” Shoving Sting’s arm off of you, you ignore his calls and his merciless laughter as you stock out the guild doors, bypassing Minerva which you know will get you in shit later. You don’t really care in that moment, you can’t even think straight, you need air.

You need to breathe.

Sting must be lying. He has to be lying. There’s... they were dead, it’s been seven years.

Seven years.

How... why now? Why after all this time?

And you convince yourself he isn’t lying. You ignore Sting every time he tries to talk to you, and focus on training. It would be no good if you failed since you were on the roster this year -- Master would kill you if you failed to impress him and keep Sabertooth at the very top. And it’s easy enough to do, spend all your time training, pushing yourself to the brink, until it’s a few days before the games and you realize, Sting wasn’t lying.

You’d been trying to ignore it, ignore the urge, but eventually you give in and find yourself in the city of Magnolia. A place you haven’t been in a long time.

Fairy Tail’s location had changed, but you’d made sure to keep tabs on them. You never showed your face, mainly because you knew that in the end, you’d betrayed your friends. In their eyes, you assumed, you were the enemy, a traitor. You’d left them, left your guild in a time they’d needed you most, and almost instantly regretted it.

But every time you tried to go back, every time you made your way towards those doors, you’d remember the words you’d said -- “They’re not coming back. They’re never coming back.” -- and, like a coward, you were never able to face them.

From the moment you’d left, all you’d wanted to do was go back but it was too late for that now. And so you settled for keeping tabs, helping them where you could, always in secret -- you knew how they owed money, and you didn’t have a lot, but you always anonymously send some the guild’s way in hopes of helping. Sabertooth would kill you if they found out, specifically Sting, but it was your way of repaying all the hurt you must’ve caused them.

It’s why you know their new location. And, without even being there for more then five minutes, you see them.

A blue flying cat, followed by a white one, a tuff of pink hair, red hair, blue hair, blonde and most importantly, him. His dark hair, the fact that nothing’s changed and he looks exactly like he had those seven years ago when you’d wished him good luck on the S Class competition, and pressed a shy, chaste kiss to his cheek, the two of you blushing madly as he left, waving you goodbye.

But, they were there. He was there.

“And last but certainly not least, is the team that came first in the preliminaries... that’s right, you know them, you love them! Now, get on your feet and scream for the most powerful guild in all Fiore! The one and only, Sabertooth!”

You wince at the cheering, two steps behind everyone else as Sting makes his grand entrance, looking thoroughly most pleased and proud of himself then anyone else. However, even you can see the smirk on Rufus’ and Orga’s face.

If anything, it’s you and Rogue that don’t look all that excited.

And you, for a specific reason. One that stares you right in the face the second you walk into the arena.

Elfman, Erza, Lucy, Natsu, but more importantly, Gray all look at you the second your team arrives. You can even feel Fairy Tail team B, and the rest of the guild up in the stands watching you and only you. You also notice with disdain that Sting had purposefully made way for you to be seen, even if you hadn’t been that hidden, you would’ve rather remained in the shadows.

That, and you’re not exactly sure what to say as they all stare at you.

“Y/N?!”

It’s Natsu who yells it, but it’s Lucy who steps towards you, baffled and confused; “Y/N, what’re you...”

But you only lower your gaze, eyes falling shut as Sting pulls you into his side, laughing loudly. “What a reunion!” He cheers, pumping his fist in the air, before turning to you. “Isn’t it so great to see all your old guildmates, Y/N?”

You meet their eyes, just as the announcer calls out;

“What’s this? A reunion? Could it be perhaps that Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N was once a member of Fairy Tail? What a twist on her debut in the Grand Magic Games!”

“This is so not man...”

Turning your head at the sound of Elfman’s voice, your breath catches in the back of your throat.

“Elfman,” Erza says sharply, pulling your eyes back on her and thus the rest of them, noticing with a thick swallow the way her eyes have never left your own. “I’m sure Y/N has her reasons.”

But as she stares at you, waiting for you to say something, you simply turn, walking off.

“I didn’t know you used to be in Fairy Tail,” Rufus drawls to you when you pass him, and your shoulders tighten.

That’s right... now, everyone knew.

“You never needed to know,” you say simply.

“Y/N.”

“It seems Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster approaches Sabertooth’s own Y/N Y/L/N, and the crowd watches in anticipation at the clear tension amongst the two of them--.”

Everything freezes. Shoulders tensing, you slowly turn, meeting Gray’s eyes -- the one you’d been specifically avoiding.

“We won’t lose.”

I know, you want to say. I don’t want you to, you want to tell him. I want Fairy Tail to win, you want to plead. But instead, knowing the eyes that watch you, you simply say; “neither will Sabertooth.”

This had to be some cruel joke.

Your punishment, maybe.

Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N versus Fairy Tail’s Team A Gray Fullbuster

That’s what the board said, that what that God awful announcer calls with clear joy in his voice -- your first battle, the second day of the Games, and this way the turn out.

There was no way you’d win.

Ignoring the fact that you had no doubt Gray was stronger then you -- you simply just couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Not against Fairy Tail and certainly not against Gray.

“Good luck, Y/N,” Sting calls as you move to make your way towards the arena. “Though I doubt you’ll need it.”

You hate his words, hate the way he knows, hate the way he seems to get such joy out of everything that had happened. This was his fault. His fucking fault that you were here, and that this was happening.

Though, of course, even you knew that was true.

“Sabertooth’s Y/N Y/L/N has never been apart of Sabertooth’s team, but we can expect something great from Fiore’s strongest guild, needless to say. Do you know anything about Y/N Y/L/N, Yajima-san?”

“I don’t know much about Y/’N now, but in her Fairy Tail days, she never really made a name for herself, but I do distinctly remember her powers being incredibly unique.”

“Ah! A mystery then. And of course, Fairy Tail’s Gray Fullbuster is a Ice Wizard, but after his performance in day one’s Hidden Competition, the crowd’s not too sure what to expect. Nonetheless, it should be an intense match between old guildmates now turned enemy’s.”

“Shut up,” you hiss to yourself, nails digging into the palm of your hands.

“Ah, I see you’re just as chipper as you used to be.”

Swallowing thickly, you inhale sharply as Gray comes to a stop a few feet before you. It’s closest you’ve been to him since that first day, and more importantly, then in seven years. You’d already known since that day, but he really does look exactly like he had that day. Hasn’t aged a day. You don’t know the story, you don’t know how he’s back, but you know you’ve heard the term ‘seven year blank’ echoing around.

That makes more sense as you stare at him now.

Still eighteen, you’re now older then him then a year younger like you had been before.

Remaining silent, your head tilts back, where you know Sabertooth is, chest tightening.

“Y/N.”

Turning to Gray at the sound of your name, your lips part when you noticed the way his eyes have softened, even if only a little, like he caught something in the past moment you’d turned away from him. He looks so much more... concerned then he had the first day, and that was only yesterday. When he’d called for you, he’d looked so angry...

Now, he only looked worried.

“What happened?”

Swallowing thickly, you try to appear unbothered. “I left.”

“There’s more to it, I know there is,” Gray shakes his head, “the others told us about the day--”

Eyes clenching shut, a simply jerk of your head has Gray flying back. It causes a roar of gasps, surprise and anticipation in the thought that the fight is finally starting. But you know, unlike them, that it won’t get farther then that -- at least not from your end.

Gray hisses, slowly crawling to his feet, before he smirks at you; “you’ve gotten strong.”

“It’s been seven years.”

“Still,” he shrugs, stopping before you once again. “You have control now.”

You shrug, mimicking him with a smirk, “it’s been seven years.”

However, the facade falls all too quick when he takes a step towards you. Your body tenses, fists clenching as he continues to make his way towards you until he’s directly before you. He eyes you for a moment, quiet, carefully, and you nearly break then and there.

“It may have been seven years, but I know you best,” he whispers, voice low, “I know you’re lying.”

You shake your head, pushing his words away from your thoughts; “attack me.”

And he blinks, surprised; “what?”

“I need you to attack me,” you repeat, keeping your eyes trained downwards, refusing to meet his eyes. “I... I just need you to.”

And part of you expects him to -- you deserve it, you know, after all you’d done.

But, a second later, Gray’s stepping back, pulling your wide eyes on him as he shakes his head; “Fairy Tail doesn’t attack their own friends, Y/N. You know that.” And your breath hitches when his hand moves to raise.

“No!” You yell, before you can help yourself, eyes flashing a bright gold, like they had seconds before, holding Gray’s arm in place as he blinks back at you. Letting out a soft whimper, one you hope he doesn’t hear, you hold his arm in place, eyes falling shut as your own arm raises, the crowd falling eerily silent.

“I give up.”

And you knew, even as you feel the glares on your back, that there really wasn’t any other outcome that could’ve happened. You’d never hurt Gray, you knew, and you refused to hurt Fairy Tail anymore.

You were destined to lose this match.

“What’s so special about those fairies, huh?”

Wincing, you gasp at the squeeze on your throat, trying to suck in air that won’t come as your eyes fall on Sting’s own narrowed ones, glaring down at you. The brick of the wall behind you bites into your skin, and you know his grip will leave bruises, but even as you gasp for air and it feels like your vision is closing in on you, you have no regrets.

You never would, even if it’ll get you killed.

“What’s so fucking special about them?”

You refuse to respond, even if Sting wasn’t blocking off your air way you wouldn’t. Even if you could easily knock him away, send him flying, you don’t -- you’ll only pay for it more later.

“What’s so special about him?!”

He drops you then, and you fall to your knees with a thud, a cry leaving your lips as he sends a sharp kick to your gut, causing you to double over. It takes you a moment, a solid minute to catch your breath, and even then you’re still gasping, voice raspy as you raise your chin, eyes narrowing as you say the words you’ve been wanting to say to Sting for years.

“Fairy Tail is the guild Sabertooth could never be,” you hiss, your voice pathetic but your gaze menacing. “And Gray is a better man than you’ll ever be. All of them are. You’ll never be as good as Natsu.” You hit him where you know it hurts, the words having been on the tip of your tongue for years but you’d always held back in fear of what would happen.

Well, you’re no longer afraid. You’re too far gone now.

Sting’s eyes narrow and his face twists, ready to explode, before he breathes, and a smirk curls onto his lips. “You’ll never be apart of your pathetic guild again,” he hisses, “you’ll be stuck in Sabertooth for the rest of your life. Only, Master will make sure your life is a living hell.”

He sends another sharp kick at your side, but says nothing more as he turns, walking off with a huff.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself, slowly pushing yourself up to your knees where you stay, chest heaving, the pain radiating across your entire body, fingers finding your neck and touching the offended skin gently as you hiss in response.

You didn’t regret surrendering, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of what would happen when you walked into the inn that night.

You never should’ve left Fairy Tail. It was a regret you’d probably take to your grave.

“We actually have points thanks to you.”

Blinking at the sound of Gray’s voice, you slowly glance up at him, arm still wrapped tightly around your stomach as you stare up at him.

“I’m glad,” you whisper, smiling gently, “Fairy Tail deserves to win.”

Gray sighs, and stepping towards you, he reaches a hand out; “here,” he says softly, voice a mere whisper. You meet his eyes, before glancing at his hand for a moment, slowly slipping your own in it. He helps you to your feet, holding you up as you waver, hissing in pain, and then, before you know it, before you can even help yourself, you fall against him, forehead pressing against his shoulder as you let out a whimper.

“You know,” Gray says after a moment, “I still remember that kiss.”

Shaking your head, you let out a quiet, somewhat forced laugh.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“You were gone,” you whisper, finally answering. “You all were, but you were too. And... And I couldn’t handle staring at those doors everyday waiting for you to walk through them, only for you never to.” Pulling back, you meet his eyes, “I love you, I wanted to tell you that day, and it crushed me that I never did.”

Hands falling on your waist, Gray shakes his head; “no one would tell me where you were when we came back. It’s like every time I asked, this look would come over them and everyone would fall silent. When I learned it had been seven years, I wanted to see you first and tell you... tell you, I love you too.”

Biting your lip, “it’s too late,” you whisper. “The others must hate me and I... Sting will never let me leave.”

Gray’s grip tightens. “They don’t hate you, Y/N. Everyone misses you. I miss you,” and then, he shifts, cupping your cheek to pull your eyes on his own again. “I need you to come back.”

“But... Sting--”

“We’ll figure it out, Master will figure it out,” Gray argues, shaking his head. “The Guild needs you. I need you.”

Lips parting, you try to find the words, only to realize there are none. So, instead, you simply fall into his arms, holding him tight against you and hold on to his promise.

#fairy tail #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail imagine #ft #ft x reader #gray fullbuster #gray fullbuster imagine #gray fullbuster x reader #gray imagine #gray x reader #imagine #imagines #my fics

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yuzukult · 3 years

Text

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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1tad0ri · 4 years

Note

alright we know fushiguro is a really private person, so I think the same goes for his relationship. he is usually really intimate. but one day he just... snaps. he’s pent up and has been teased for days or maybe is jealous abt something so he kinda goes feral and for once doesn’t mind if they get caught.

warning: public sex, degradation

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

feral fushiguro hmu

a supply closet—could your life get any more cliche?

apparently so because your boyfriend had finally seemed to hit his limit—whatever switch had been flipped had your head spinning because never in a million years did you think megumi would have you with your skirt shoved up your hips and your panties dangling from one foot as he pressed you up against the wall, one of your legs hooked around his waist and two of his criminally skilled fingers spreading your pussy lips bare for him to see. your clit throbbed and you wished he would just kiss you already.

“why the fuck are you panting already? i haven’t even done anything.” you hadn’t noticed his hardened gaze had shifted back to your face—indeed you were breathing heavy, the enclosed space too hot for comfort; it didn’t help that he was so close to you, a human furnace all on his own with how wholly he consumed you, even if he was just standing there.

bored of your fucked out expression, megumi set to work running his thumb up your folds, his two fingers still keeping you spread, and watching your face contort—god, you needed something more to hold onto, afraid of your legs giving out with how shaky they were getting, every teasing touch making you quiver.

it had been days since he last fucked you—busy, you two were always so damn busy. your teasing kisses that ghosted over his lips and your wandering hands whenever you got a mere spare moment to yourselves didn’t help either.

hell, you’d gotten interrupted giving him a handjob in the middle of the night when gojou had set off some commotion outside in the courtyard with yuuji and nobara (megumi hadn’t bothered to actually check what exactly they were up to nor remember any details aside from when you’d both sighed and glanced out of the window to spot them there).

interrupted—you just kept getting interrupted and held back and there was just no chance to fuck you on his soft bed with the special sheets he knew you liked.

but fine, if he couldn’t have you in comfortable privacy, then he’d just settle for this, prepping you in a closet in the hallway housing the entrance and exit to the building—a popular spot and perhaps the highest stakes one he could have chosen. (your mumbles about how “we’ll get caught, baby” didn’t matter much to him when you were the one pulling him down for kiss after kiss, stumbling into the tiny room and locking the door behind you so he could slam you against it—at some point you’d shifted to hoist yourself up against the wall where you found yourself currently.)

and then there was the whole issue with yuuji—he was so friendly with you. he would’ve thought he was your boyfriend if he didn’t know any better. he didn’t like the fact that you gave him so much of your attention, your light touches on his arm seeming unfair to megumi when you could barely get the chance to do to the same to your own boyfriend. what was so special about that idiot anyway? he was his friend, sure... but not right now when he had desperately missed your glistening cunt.

“itadori can’t fuck you like this, can he?” megumi’s thumb drew circles over your entrance, swirling your slick around and lightly pressing down on the area, so close yet so far compared to where you wanted him to be.

you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “no... no, he can’t,” you gasped out, “only you— ah, fuck—” your head fell forward, forehead resting on his shoulder and you blindly panting when the tip of his thumb nudged in your hole briefly before retreating. “only you ‘gumi, baby. would never let him fuck me.”

he liked that answer very much. “that’s my pretty baby. just a slut for me, yeah?”

you nodded, biting your lip, watching his slick-coated fingers—

the sound of footsteps and talking just outside the door made you clench in apprehension, finding your hands clinging to him, seeking a sense of security. when you looked up at him, eyes wide, he pressed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss and you whimpered, knowing you had to keep quiet but he was making it so hard.

“bet you want to get caught like this, don’t you? want everyone to see what a whore you are?” megumi was talking lowly against your lips, face soft and warm against yours. you were suddenly aware of your position and lack of clothing—he was faring much better considering he was still fully dressed, and it was embarrassing the longer you thought about what sight would greet whoever shoved open the door.

megumi was pressing you further and further into the wall with his lips and all you could do was thread your fingers through his hair and let him swallow up your moans.

oh no— that voice.

megumi instantly noticed when you tensed up—you knowing what barrage of words was coming—and his lips curved into a smile against yours, your stomach doing summersualts at the fact that this was definitely not one of his sweet grins anymore. “who’s that you hear, princess? hm? your boyfriend?”

you shook your head quickly. “no, no, babe, please, you’re my-”

“are you thinking about him stuffing you full right now like the whore you are? want him to see you like this, you slut?” it didn’t matter what you said, the growl of megumi’s words and the rising cadence of yuuji’s voice just a few steps away, hidden by the flimsy wooden door, had your head swimming. curse you, yuuji, please shut up—it was almost like he was getting louder on purpose and you decided you slightly hated him that moment.

“look how fucking wet you’re getting. mmm,” megumi sucked your lips into another kiss, mumbling out a “fuck” into your mouth when he thumbed your dripping folds again, feeling the wetness slide over his fingers, “can’t wait to taste you. i’ll even let you listen to him while i eat you out. you’d like that right? i’m feeling generous today, you know? anything for you.” jealous as he was, megumi very much enjoyed your pleas and explanations about how only he mattered to you, no one else, begging him to let you cum, asking him to mark you up.

later, he knew the smug smirk he’d give itadori would be met by a quizzical look and then a cry of, “fushiguro’s smiling!” yeah, he’s smiling, you dumbass, he just fucked his girl.

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priortoallthoughts · 3 years

Text

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Nap

(He’s not the one they’ll have to deal with if they do)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Does me almost crying while writing soft Fox thoughts count as a warning?

Summary: Fox works too hard and is in much need of a break and damnit you’re going to do something about it.

A/N: Big thank you to @lackofhonor for the idea for this addition to my Commander Fox series 💕

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] // [Part 5]

Masterlist

You try not to pay attention to the weird looks you’re getting as you march to Fox’s office clutching your softest pillow and blanket from home. Actually, it’s not as weird as you think. Everyone looks thoroughly entertained at your antics as you pass them. It’s not like they’re going to stop you either way.

You stash your stuff by the side of Fox’s door before you key it open. He looks up and raises his eyebrows in surprise at you standing there. Considering it’s noon and not your usual day off, it makes sense for him to question it.

“Exactly how busy are you right now?” You ask, not moving from the doorway.

He smiles. “For you? Not very.”

You grin in return and grab your things from the floor. “Good. You’re taking a nap with me.” You walk to his couch and pull it out, setting everything up how you need.

“Cyare,” he laughs. “I do still need to work.”

You make your way over to him, still smiling. You card your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

Tugging on his hands does nothing to actually move him, not that you really think it will, but it’s worth a shot. In fact, he tugs you back in return and you stumble straight into his lap. This happens a lot, you realize belatedly.

“That’s not fair,” you pout, not at all opposed to your position.

Fox gives you that stupid smug smirk that still sets your heart a flutter no matter how many times you see it. “Your engagement strategy could use some work.”

“Come on.”

You kiss him.

“Come lay down.”

Kiss.

“You’re exhausted.”

Kiss.

“You know I can see it.”

Kiss.

“Are you trying to convince me or seduce me?” Fox interrupts, pulling back just far enough to be out of immediate range of your lips. He doesn’t try to hide his grin though.

You tilt your head innocently and bat your eyelashes. “Yes.”

Loathe as you are to get off him, you do, slipping away with ease and attempt to pull him up again. He follows you this time, much to your surprise, and you end up guiding him to the couch. It’s not actually that big of a mattress when it’s pulled out, but you’re not going to complain about having to get closer to fit. Did you plan it that way? No. But if anyone asks, yes you did.

You lay down after Fox and he shifts around so you’re both sharing the pillow. He pulls the blanket up too, but not all the way. There isn’t really a need for it in his office besides comfort.

“Thank you for indulging me,” you whisper.

Fox pulls you even closer and you can feel him press his lips to your head. “I’ll do anything you ask, cyare.”

You squint at him suspiciously. “Why’d I have to convince you then?”

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I wanted to see what you would do.” He shrugs.

“Rude!” You thump him on his chest plate but you’re laughing soon after. So is he.

“Let’s get some rest. Isn’t that why you came here?”

“Kriffin’ right.”

Fox drifts off before you, which just goes to show how tired he really is. You lay there watching his chest rise and fall slowly. You brush your fingers lightly over his armor where your hand rests in front of you. You almost never see him this relaxed in his office. Or at all really. You’re glad you can give him this, even in the middle of the day. Especially in the middle of the day because you’re certain he doesn’t take any break at all regularly.

You’re content to stay in his arms just like this, dozing off easily knowing there was no safer place to be than right where you are.

—-

Fox isn’t actually asleep. He knows you want him to get some rest but it’s hard when something could happen at any moment. Being ready for anything and general paranoia go hand-in-hand in his line of work. Plus, if he falls asleep now he won’t be able to see how peaceful you look sleeping next to him. Nor would he be able to think about how right this all feels. He wasn’t lying when he said he would do anything you ask.

And he’ll say it as many times as he can, he’s probably the luckiest man in the galaxy. Definitely the luckiest of his vode. You really are perfect. He’d yell it from the top of the senate building if he didn’t think he would be decommissioned for it. He’ll risk everything for you, but the last thing he wants to do is leave you alone like that. Not after everything you’ve done for him.

You’re stuck with him now, but he has a feeling that if he said that to you, you’d just turn it around and say he’s stuck with you too. Like he would ever be mad about that.

He’s never thought about what would happen after the war before. It’s never-ending in his mind, even if he’s not on the front lines. He still wishes he was, but that feeling lessens every time he’s with you. If he had been out who-knows-where in the galaxy, he never would have met you. You would have never even gotten as close as you are to his vode if you hadn’t been drawn to the mess by the smell of his caf.

You definitely would’ve still been arrested though; of that he has no doubt.

His little fighter, you are.

So he thinks of after the war, whenever that will be, and he sees you there with him. You still have caf together every morning, but now it’s fresh from a pot in the kitchen of the house you share. You’ll move off Coruscant, because he knows all the bad things that go on in even the smallest shadows. It’s a terrible place to live. The top levels are too guilded; the bottom levels are too dangerous.

So a different planet, and one that doesn’t have such a political presence in the galaxy.

Maybe he sees a few kids eventually too. He isn’t sure about that yet though. That’s a conversation you both need to have before thinking too much more about it. But if things happen to go that way, he shudders to think what a bunch of mini-hims running around could do. Even worse, a bunch of mini-yous. But both of you mixed together in many tiny beings? They’d take over the galaxy by the time they’re ten.

And even if things don’t go that way and you don’t want kids, as long as you’re together… yeah, that’s really the best kriffing thing.

—

You’re not sure how long you manage to be asleep for, because you startle awake what feels like a minute later by the door to Fox’s office opening. By some miracle, Fox stays asleep, and you turn your head carefully to look at Stone standing there. He raises one eyebrow at what must be one of the oddest sights he’s probably ever seen stepping into this office.

You press a finger to your lips in an obvious sign to be quiet. Then you drag your thumb across your throat in an even more obvious sign that you will hurt him if he wakes Fox up.

Stone’s lips quirk up into a smirk before he raises his hands in surrender, pointing at the data pad in his hand and then to Fox’s desk. You give him the go-ahead and turn back into Fox to get comfortable again. The door slides closed behind you a few seconds later.

“You know I’m awake, right?” Fox murmurs above you, eyes still closed.

“No you’re not,” you say back.

“What exactly did you threaten him over?”

“You’ve got a new data pad on your desk.”

Fox groans lowly. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not awake yet.”

His thumb starts rubbing your side unconsciously. There’s no more intent behind it other than comfort and you shuffle closer so his hand splays over your lower back. It’s warm even through your shirt and you sigh in contentment. You’ll never get tired of the feel of his hands on you. He squeezes you once and you look up at him in question.

“So how are you here? What about your work?” He asks.

“I took the rest of the day off.”

“Just to take a nap?”

You smile sweetly at him. “Just for you. The nap is a bonus.”

He dips his head down to peck your lips, and you chase them back up when he pulls away. He gives in, of course, and you take the time to slowly kiss each other breathless. It’s easy to get lost like this. There’s no rush - no need to go any further to feel how much harder your heart can beat because of him. And you’re sure that if he wasn’t wearing armor, you’ll be able to feel his beat just as hard for you too.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Fox hums in acknowledgement.

“I love you.”

His eyes are on yours a second later. Though you can barely see the difference between his pupil and the deepest brown of his iris, you know exactly what they look like as they slowly dilate. They’re especially beautiful when they catch the sunlight at just the right angle and literally light up. Absolutely mesmerizing.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.”

You don’t need to be a genius to figure out he just said he loves you too. Which is good because telling him that, no matter how long you’ve felt it, is a spur of the moment decision. You’re glad you did though. You didn’t know when there would be another moment like this.

Soft cuddling, dozing off to the sound of his breath puffing above you, the feel of him pressing up against you.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

And you love him.

#prior writes #star wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars #soft fox #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #afab!reader #coruscant guard #writing #fanfic

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skiesofthesketchy · 3 years

Note

36, 60, and 71, if you can combine prompts for one request! was thinking like an accident happens, and jj’s freaking out, but there’s a happy ending obviously. If you only want 1 prompt, let’s go with 60 :)

congrats on 1k lovely!! you deserve it, and keep up all your amazing work ❤️

thanks for the request!! i kinda went in a different direction but i hope you like this! :)

masterlist

1k celebration blurbs

60. So I accidentally told her that I loved her. What do I do?

71. I didn't know how to tell you [before].

***

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ murmured under his breath. His thoughts were running wild but he couldn’t process a single one of them. The confident and easy-going pogue had turned into a nervous mess, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

“JB, you better fucking answer,” he panted into his cellphone that was pressed to his face. He waited impatiently as he heard the ringing in his ear, all while basically running in the direction of the Chateau.

Right as JJ was about to hang up and try again, his best friend John B. finally picked up.

“Hey, what’s up, man? Are you coming by later? Pope and Kie are already here and we got the beer--”

“JB, I fucked up. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up.”

“Woah, JJ, relax. What happened?” John B. immediately had a thousand different ideas of the trouble his friend could be in and ultimately assumed the worst. He had stopped everything to listen intently to JJ on the phone.

JJ sighed, still feeling like he wasn’t in complete control of his body. “JJ. What is it?” John B. asked again. He was getting more scared by the second about what could possibly be wrong. Did JJ do something to his dad? Is he running from the cops again?

“I accidentally told her that I love her. What the fuck do I do?” His tone was desperate, eyebrows creased in worry. He needed his best friend to tell him what to do.

JJ was a quick thinker, always able to escape trouble when he needed to. But this was different. Years of friendship out the window. He was convinced he had just ruined everything and that you would never want to see him again.

John B., of course, knew exactly who JJ was referring to. JJ only ever had feelings for you. Even with the string of random girls coming and leaving JJ’s bedroom, nobody compared to you.

Much to JJ’s dismay, he could hear his friend’s booming laughter through the phone. “Hey man, that’s great! Good for you,” John B. laughed. He was relieved that it wasn’t something actually bad, and was thankful JJ’s situation was amusing instead.

“It’s not great, and it’s definitely not funny,” JJ grumbled. “Can you be serious for a second? My life just blew up in my face and it’s my own damn fault.”

“Hey, seriously, you need to relax. Did she actually reject you?” John B. asked carefully.

“She would have if I would’ve stuck around to hear it.”

“What does that mean?”

“I ran away, okay?!” JJ yelled. “I got the hell out of there before she could even say anything.” Yep, he wanted to punch himself in the face for that. But he didn’t mean to spill his feelings all over you. It was all just a huge mistake.

It was something that couldn’t be helped, though. There you were, standing on the beach looking as beautiful as always. Your hair blew softly in the breeze as the golden sun gave your figure a gracious glow. The sight of you was enough to knock the air right out of JJ’s lungs.

Your smile lit up your pretty face as you told your good friend JJ all about the guy you were going on a date with tonight. The handsome stranger had been charming, and you had to admit you were a bit smitten. Not many guys have had the courage to walk up to you to ask you out.

JJ could tell you were excited, but a burning jealousy seeped into his bones. He willed himself to keep his mouth shut, but JJ had never been the best at self-control.

“I don’t think you should go out with this guy,” he said.

You looked at him confused. “Why not?”

He sighed, already kicking himself for speaking up. “Y/N, you don’t know him. He could be a murderer. He could be an asshole just wanting to get laid.” He was prepared to go on, but you cut him off.

“JJ, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You couldn’t read him. You were used to JJ being protective, but he was acting strange. You could tell something else was on his mind but you couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. He couldn’t even look at you.

You grabbed a hold of his hand so that he would look back at you, finding his bright blue eyes clouded in anger? Disappointment? “What is this about?”

“What about for me? Would you ditch this guy for me?” Oh god, he’s already said too much, but it’s too late now. His gaze was fixed on you as you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I don’t understand...”

“What if I told you I was in love with you?” It felt like the whole world stopped as he waited for your reaction. “Would you ditch him then?”

You didn’t think you heard him right. Did he just say he’s in love with you!? No, you must have water in your ears or something.

The short silence from you was the only answer he needed. With a nod and a frown, he tore himself away from you. “Just forget it,” he grumbled, already marching away.

“JJ, wait!” you called after him. He was already running from the situation and you hardly even had two seconds to process it all. “JJ!”

He didn’t listen to you and continued fleeing as fast as possible, wondering what the hell he had done.

That brings us back to the present. JJ had finally made it to the Chateau. John B. had filled Pope, Kie, and Sarah in on the situation, making JJ’s ears and face burn in embarrassment. At the same time though, he didn’t care what any of them thought. He only cared about you.

What were you calling after him for? What would you have said if JJ hadn’t run away? Do you want him out of your life because he made things weird?? Are you about to fall madly in love with this stupid guy you’re going out with right now???

“JJ, it’s okay. Come sit down and chill,” Kie brought JJ out of his wild imagination for a brief moment. It felt as if his heart was still beating much faster than it should. He felt restless but also like there was nothing he could do to fix any of it.

He only sat down in the hammock because Kiara had dragged him there. JJ felt like he was in a daze, not really paying attention to the world outside of his mind. Pope had handed him a beer and JJ gulped half of it down without even thinking about it. Conversation started up around him but he didn’t hear anything... until someone said your name.

“Oh look, Y/N’s here,” John B. announced, shoving JJ’s shoulder. “And she looks pissed.” JJ whipped his head around quickly and sure enough, there you were, beautiful as always, but fuming and marching right toward him.

“What the fuck, JJ?!” you yelled, making it obvious that you were about to either chew him out or kick his ass.

“Good luck, bud,” John B. whispered to JJ, chuckling under his breath.

“Fuck you,” JJ replied as he watched everyone go inside, leaving him alone to face your wrath. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, how to fix the mistake he made, how to make things not weird between you guys, but holy shit, he didn’t expect that you’d be so angry.

It was like he was watching you in slow motion, feeling every one of your stomps on the ground as you approached him, eyes ablaze and lips pulled into a frown. “What was that back there?” you finally asked, now standing right in front of the boy who looked scared shitless.

“I-- I know, Y/N. I’m sorry! It was a mistake--” he tried to explain rather desperately, but you cut him off.

“You can’t just dump all of that on me and then run away!” JJ finally stood up from the hammock and now towered over you, reaching for your arms without even thinking about it, wanting to make you feel calm.

“I don’t know why I said any of that! It was an accident! I'm sorry, we can talk about this--” You interrupted him yet again, but this time by launching yourself forward and crashing your lips to his.

With hands cradling his jaw, you did your best to put all of your emotions into the kiss, the one kiss that could change everything. JJ was more than surprised, freezing as you pulled him in closer, but within two seconds had relaxed and gave in-- he'd be an idiot not to. His hands fell to your waist and pulled you flush against him as his lips finally matched your ferver.

You don’t even know why you got so angry. Perhaps it was because the man you had loved since forever had told you he shared the same feelings, but then left before you could make the same confession, freeing yourself from years of secrecy. You didn’t want to hide it anymore. You needed to be sure he felt the same, like he said he did.

It almost didn’t matter now, as you poured every bit of passion you had into someone you called your best friend. He smiled against your lips, bringing his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the mind-blowing kiss. His mind was in a daze as his senses became clouded by you. In this moment, he had no doubts of his feelings for you. He was undeniably in love with you and couldn’t do a single thing to change that.

You had allowed yourself to get lost in him, but in a split second you were pulling away, not able to pull too far with JJ’s arms wrapped around you. His eyes trapped you in his gaze as you both took a moment to catch your breaths. You didn’t want to come down from the high you were experiencing, but you had to ask...

“Did you mean it?”

His brows furrowed wondering what you meant before it clicked. “Every word,” he said, only confidence and honesty in his voice. After that kiss, he wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, he felt fucking fearless. “I didn’t know how to tell you before.”

“Well, I'm glad you did,” you replied with a smile, dragging your fingers through his locks of hair before kissing him once more. The sounds of loud cheering made you pull away much sooner than either of you would have liked.

The pogues were watching from the window, cheering and making dumb kissy faces at you guys. JJ promptly flipped them off while you laughed, then he turned so that he was shielding you from the prying eyes of your friends. He loved the sound of your joyous laugh accompanied by your radiant smile.

“Next time you just wanna kiss me, can you not come over looking like you wanna kill me?” he asked, and you laughed with heat flooding your face. “Very mixed signals. I was scared for my life!” he added with a chuckle.

“Oh, shut up. I had a right to be mad at you!”

“But not anymore, right?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him before throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again. You could definitely get used to this.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled against his lips. “You’re lucky I love you too.” He grinned, feeling higher than the clouds now that you finally said the words he was dying to hear.

He picked you up and spun you before kissing you again. “The luckiest in the world.”

***

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bubble-tea-bunny · 4 years

Text

what we’re meant for

[apollo x reader]

author’s note: apollo’s ear piercings>>> makes me wanna get more ugh

word count: 9,251

The air feels colder after it rains, but it’s also crisper, fresher, and with a deep inhale you let it fill your lungs, mentally steeling yourself for today’s hunt.

You stand at the edge of the woods, sunlight peeking through the foliage of towering trees and bugs and birds alike flittering between the thick, aged trunks. The grass is damp from a combination of raindrops and morning dew, and you know you’ll need to watch your steps particularly carefully to avoid any muddy spots, lest your feet sink in. A small gust of wind blows, ruffling your hair, braided as it always is to keep it out of your face, and you shiver. Your deep breaths are also made in an effort to acclimate yourself to the lower temperature. You refrained from wearing a cloak despite the chill because you knew it’d only impair your ability to use your bow properly. Though the longer you stand in place, the more you’re beginning to regret that decision. So before you can get the chance to regret it even more, you slide down the small incline and venture into the forest.

Last night the rain had been heavy, and you watch out for fallen leaves and branches, taking care to walk around them. It’s always quiet here, but especially so in the mornings, and any misstep would alert the wildlife to your presence. The birds are singing, a complement to the peace of the early hours, and serve to help you feel less alone as you traipse along. You try to identify the species to whom each unique call belongs, testing what you learned from Alexios during the days you’d agreed to let him accompany you on hunts. Studying birds had become one of his favorite pastimes, and he delighted in sharing with you what he read and applying his knowledge.

There’s a melody, high-pitched and staccato, and you think hard about what Alexios had shared, about the distinct tones. You then hazard a guess, and your attention is pulled to a small bird that perches on a branch of a tree you’re passing. It opens its mouth to sing, and you smile, having found your guess to be correct. It seems you’re getting the hang of this.

Your birdwatching is interrupted by the ruffling of leaves, and you freeze, gaze lowering to scan the surrounding area. You listen closely to determine the direction the noise had come from, and the moment you hear it again, you establish the way you need to go.

You move slowly to remain as quiet as possible, following the sound of pattering on soil and the snapping of twigs. It doesn’t move very far and you’re able to close the distance, ducking behind a bush when you catch a glimpse of fur. Once you’re hidden, you peek around, eyes settling immediately on the sand-colored rabbit sniffing at a plant. As it begins to take a bite of the leaves, you carefully reach for your bow.

The birds chirping help provide some cover, but it’s not perfect because you’re much closer, and any noise you make will stand out. You begin to pull your bow from over your shoulder but pause when the rabbit does, its ears lowering. Had it heard you? It lays flat on the ground then, and you figure it must have; it’s getting ready to flee if it hears anything else.

You hold your breath to keep silent and manage to get your bow and an arrow without the rabbit noticing. As you nock the arrow and take aim, you exhale, then take another deep breath, holding it again to remain steady. You only have one attempt to catch the rabbit here. Otherwise, you’ll have to chase it or search for another animal.

The string of your bow is at maximum tension, pulled back as far as it can go, and your fingers unwrap from around the arrow, letting it fly. You can swear it almost whistles through the air before it hits your target. It’s a clean shot, and now you allow yourself to relax, letting out a sigh and emerging from your hiding place to retrieve your catch.

You pull out the arrow to return to your quiver and tuck the rabbit into your rucksack. You’re not quite done hunting yet, for one rabbit isn’t enough for you and your family. You’ll need to keep searching, but luckily, there’s ample time yet until noon, when you’re expected back to assist your mother around the house.

Slinging your rucksack on, you stand back up straight. The sun is at an angle to shine down through the trees, its rays bright and brilliant. It’s just the warmth you need, and you stay in this spot briefly, basking in it with closed eyes. See, you think to yourself, the cloak would’ve been unnecessary. You’ve got the sun to keep you warm after all.

With your eyes shut, your hearing is extra sharp, and at the sound of more rustling, you’re kicked into action. You’ve pinpointed the direction more quickly this time, and you proceed to track your next target. You try to walk along the ground the sun touches, feeling its heat spread over your back. Please continue to keep me warm, you murmur. It feels nice on cold mornings like these. It’s a playful request because of course the sun can’t hear you, but you like to pretend it can, and that you’re in its good graces, that it should indulge you and kiss your skin so gently.

The silly thought makes you smile, and it rests comfortably on your lips as you navigate your way between the pines.

***

This morning is a morning like any other, nondescript and quiet. The thick blanket of clouds beneath the expanse of Olympus is parting as the rumble of rainstorms fades to welcome a clear sky. Colors always appear more vivid after the rain: a bluer sky, greener trees and grass. Every drop breathes new life into the earth, invigorating then magnifying it. Fewer sights are better than this, and that’s why Apollo finds himself tarrying in the courtyard.

He allows his mind to empty as he absentmindedly gazes down below, watching the world awaken, freshly cleansed and ready for a new day. The air up here is crisper as well and he breathes it in deeply. This would always be one delight he shared with mortals.

After lingering a while longer, he’s poised to take his leave and proceed with his day, but a curt prayer reaches his ears and stops him short. To hear prayers isn’t unusual, and he hears them often, but this particular one grabs his attention for a short list of reasons. One, that it hadn’t been addressed to him explicitly, but to the sun. It’s this that tips him off to the fact it must not be anything serious, no heartfelt plea for blessing but something muttered distractedly to fill the air, but he hears it all the same, and, if anything, is amused by it. Two, and perhaps—no, not perhaps, definitely—the more important point, is that the sound of the voice is distinct, melodious, enough to pull him in, wanting to hear more.

So, rather than leave, he leans against the stone railing and scans the earth far below, listening for that voice again and searching for its owner, whose sweet song has graced his ears so sweetly on a morning that’s quickly taking a turn, no longer a morning just like any other. Where might you be, little bird…

There in the woods, he finds you. Bow in hand and rucksack on your shoulders, clearly in the midst of hunting. It’s simple to surmise that you’re doing your best to walk beneath the sun, and he can’t contain his smile. With each of your deliberate steps he grows more interested in observing you, and if the other gods notice how long he has been here, head leaning on a propped up hand and eyes drawn downwards, they don’t say anything or attempt to interrupt.

The birds that fly above your head are poor competition and while he wishes you would speak more, you don’t, but he understands since your current task requires silence. Though when you shoot down a deer, you let out a quiet exclamation of victory, and you might as well have shot him instead, for his heart seems to beat that much harder in reaction to your voice. Not only is the sky bluer and the foliage greener following the rain, but the cheeks of fair maidens are redder too, as evident by your own. They’re flushed, for you did have to go on a bit of a chase for that deer, but it’s charming in its own right, especially when joined by your satisfied smile. Apollo wonders if, should he lay his hand tenderly on your cheek, the heat of them might rival the sun he governs. He wonders if you’d allow him to sate his curiosity.

Much as he’d like to stay here watching you for the rest of the day, he can’t, and he reluctantly backs away from the railing. His every footstep takes him away from you physically, away from the sight of you, but mentally, you’re in the forefront of his mind in the passing hours. How hadn’t he noticed you sooner? He scolds himself for being careless, that he should miss something so remarkable as you for as long as he had.

Perhaps it might be argued that the gods are kept busy by the whole picture, presiding over the world as a whole, rarely afforded the chance to study the details. But to Apollo it makes little difference because with the discovery of you, with your fanciful wish for the sun to be at your back as you hunt and your voice soft as the plucked strings of a lyre, he is learning that sometimes, the real masterpieces are in the margins of a painting: well hidden but rewarding to find, so that upon picking it out, suddenly life is seen through a fresher pair of eyes, enlightened, and prepared for other secrets behind the canvas or in the painter’s brush.

Morning bleeds into afternoon and afternoon into night, and when the stars are strung across a dark sky, Apollo returns to his spot in the courtyard to search for you. He didn’t want to sleep until he saw you one more time.

You’re at home, your mother preparing for dinner the animals you’d caught earlier. In the mean time, you converse with a young boy. You talk about the birds you heard while hunting, and how you managed to guess their unique calls correctly.

“You’re a wonderful teacher, Alexios,” you compliment, and Apollo thinks about how he wants to hear you say his own name.

Alexios smiles widely. Then, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “I must be. If I could teach you, then I could teach anybody.”

At the playful jab, you lightly shove at his shoulder. “I’m a good student!” you defend yourself. “I just get distracted easily.”

“You’re like the sheep father tends to.”

You laugh, bright and melodic. It’s the only music Apollo needs. He’s of the opinion you’d be better suited in Olympus. Your dulcet tones and the delicate planes of your face are the essence of the divine and otherworldly, but he speculates you’ve been placed on earth to grace your fellow mortals with a piece of the heavens, your existence a reminder of the higher powers that be and the beauty they take care to form.

However, Apollo has no qualms in admitting he’s selfish, because for all of that, he’d still prefer you to be here and to keep you for himself. Thoughts of you lull him to sleep this evening, and, at least in this way, he can feel closer to you.

In the following days, he begins planning how best to approach you. To watch from a distance could only satisfy him for so long; he’s yearning for more. Lately, he’d taken to standing at the edge of the courtyard when he needed to think, since from here, he could also watch you, and during one such instance of this, he’s joined by another.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Apollo blinks and glances to his right. Ares is walking over, in full armor and a helmet tucked beneath his arm. He must’ve just returned from training at the arena.

“Have I?” Apollo asks, but he already knows the answer.

“What’s got you so lost in your head?” Ares reaches out, intent to poke at Apollo’s forehead, but Apollo steps back and swats his hand away.

There would be no point in lying. Ares would see through it. Not that Apollo cares to lie. He has nothing to hide. “There’s a girl.”

Ares hums in understanding. “Ah.”

Apollo turns back to study you. Currently, you’re at the market with Alexios and have stopped at a fruit stand. “I want to meet her soon.”

“Is something stopping you?”

“No, no…” Apollo trails off and stays quiet briefly, already becoming distracted. But Ares detects he’s not finished speaking yet and waits. “I just want to figure out how to go about it is all.”

Ares raises a brow. “You’ve never cared about that before.”

At first, Apollo doesn’t think much of this remark, that it’s not worth noting, but upon further consideration he realizes it is rather unusual for him to take into account the how of a first meeting, and not simply appear before you the moment you’re alone. That’d always been standard procedure for him, and the question this raises in him is surely the same as what’s raised in Ares but that he doesn’t share aloud: why now?

Apollo likes to watch you in your natural environment, likes to watch you be, well, you. After all, it’s what had grabbed his attention to begin with, witnessing you in a scenario you’re comfortable in because of its familiarity, to the point you move through the forest with precision, clearly knowing it as well as the back of your own hand. He wants to interact with that part of you and observe up close the one who offers frivolous prayers to the sun as a mere aside, paying no mind to the gods who might actually be listening. Your desire is for the warmth to wash over you on cold mornings and Apollo would fight to keep the skies cloudless forever so that as long as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, your prayer will always be answered.

If he were to appear to you in his form as it is now, as a god in his full glory, it would ruin everything. You’d be taken off guard, startled, unsure how to act in his presence, and he doesn’t want that. It leaves him with the present dilemma, but he thinks he might have come up with something that will work…

Finally, he sighs, and humors Ares with a response. “You’re right. I guess I haven’t.”

***

For some reason, the animals elude you today. Your ears are sharp and well trained, so you’re certain it can’t be that you’ve missed any telltale cues of one in the area. The woods are quiet, and they feel empty. If you have anything to say about it, it’s a little bit disconcerting.

Eventually you settle against a tree trunk for a short break, laying your bow and empty rucksack next to you. With you sitting, now you don’t even hear the crunching leaves beneath your sandals, and your eyes rove over the immediate surroundings. Nothing rustles, disturbed by creatures who are exceptionally well hidden. Where are they, any of them?

Perhaps you’re just unlucky this time? Returning home empty-handed didn’t matter too much; it was always possible to buy meat at the market. You just preferred to hunt for game yourself because of the thrill it gives and the accomplishment you feel being able to provide for your family in this way. As such, you don’t want to give up yet. After you’re done resting, you’ll continue. Like always, the only rule you have to abide by is to be home by noon.

There’s a stir in the bushes to your left, the leaves jostling, and you sit up quickly. Slowly you grab your bow, fingers wrapped around the grip, and gingerly you pick it up from the dirt and lift yourself to stand. You don’t walk in the direction of the bushes immediately. Your vantage point would be no better since whatever animal is here, it’s well-concealed, and even if you could spot it through the branches, your arrow couldn’t reach. Instead you wait to see if it starts to move out into the open.

Bow in one hand and arrow in the other, you’re prepared to take aim as soon as you spot your target. You just have to hope it doesn’t notice you first and take off into a run. The animal hiding is beginning to move, for the leaves rustle more, and you nock the arrow.

A red fox emerges, golden eyes trained on you as if it had already known you were there. But if that were the case, you’re confused as to why it hasn’t run away. Your arrow’s still knocked, though it’s pointing at the ground, and you stare at each other for one, two, three beats of silence, and this fox’s unwavering gaze leads you to believe thats something is wrong.

No, not wrong, but definitely out of the ordinary. The fox isn’t afraid, and you can’t bring yourself to stare it down from the sight window of your bow, not when it’s unlike any other fox you’ve encountered, so you relax the tension of the string, removing your arrow and returning both hands to your sides.

The fox moves first, walking towards you, and you’re frozen in place. It feels like a dream, being approached like this by a wild animal who means no harm. You wonder if it might speak to you, a conduit for the gods to impart wisdom, but what they could possibly want to say to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. You’re hardly remarkable, not as well-versed in matters of the divine as the priests of the temple. Has this situation come about as a result of opportunity? To be out in the forest by yourself, there’s little chance for interruption. And with the quietness here, so far from the polis, there’s also little chance for misinterpretation, should the gods truly have something important to share.

The fox now stands right in front of you, its bright eyes blinking, vulnerable but comfortable. You decide to follow its lead, crouching down and setting your bow and arrow on the ground. It’s close enough that you can reach out for it, and cautiously you do, extending an arm to gently run your hand along its red fur. It doesn’t shy away, and as the seconds tick away, you find yourself feeling more comfortable as well. You’re still well aware of the peculiarity of the position you’re in, petting a wild animal so casually, and maybe the gods really are poised to talk to you.

However, the fox is silent as you greet it with a murmured greeting, only continuing to stare up at you. You continue talking, no room to feel embarrassed to converse with a wild animal when it’s already strange to be petting it with ease, and you’re only partly pretending that it can understand because with the way it watches you, you can swear it understands your every word.

“Why are you here?” you inquire, voice hushed. “I suppose you saw a friendly face and wanted to say hello.”

You scratch the fox behind the ear and it nudges its head into your hand, enjoying the sensation, and you chuckle. “Well I’m glad you thought me worthy of your time.”

And your time with it, it would seem, is drawing to a close, because the fox backs up, out of your reach. You watch it with a smile pulling at the corner of your lips and you stand. Lifting a hand to give a little wave, you expect it to turn around and proceed with its own day, concealing itself within the bushes again. And while the fox does turn around and walk away, what surprises you is that it pauses and looks back over at you.

You tilt your head. It’s a very deliberate glance, for it stays where it is, still staring. Was it trying to communicate? Had you been correct after all, that this fox could understand you and had something to share? You stand motionless, ruminating on these thoughts, but the fox continues looking at you, no attempts made to leave… at least not alone. And you know that it could no longer be denied. This fox is trying to say something: it wants you to follow.

Grabbing your bow and rucksack and covering the short distance to the fox, who, satisfied that you’re trailing close behind, proceeds with walking ahead, you reason that there are worse things to be following through the woods. You’ve heard the stories of divine beings interacting with mortals, manifesting in some form to offer guidance, but never did you think you’d be one of them. You can’t help trying to guess what guidance this fox has to offer even if the best course of action right now is just to wait. If it’s leading you somewhere, there’s a destination, and whenever you arrive, you’ll have your answer.

Distracted as you are with watching the fox, you don’t notice the tree root sticking out from the earth, and your foot gets caught on it. You yelp, falling forward, and your hands slide against the leaves as you catch yourself. But then there’s another disturbance, the rustling of more leaves which you’re certain isn’t your doing, and you squash the pained groan you almost let out from scraping your knees in order to listen for any more movements.

Has your run of bad luck finally ended? You’d pushed aside your original task of hunting for game when the fox approached, but now that there’s potentially a rabbit or a deer to track, you’re conflicted as to what to do. And as you’re wont to do in situations like these, you imagine what your mother might say. She’d tell you it’s fine not to go after whatever you’ve heard because the gods aren’t to be ignored, and there would always be other animals on other days. Yes, that’s what she would say yet you still struggle decide.

Your eyes slide from staring in the direction you’d heard the disturbance, down to the fox, who’s paused again, waiting patiently. You know that your urge to track whatever animal is out there doesn’t have to do with the sense of duty to bring home food for dinner, for a trip to the market is no issue. It’s your passion for hunting, the calls of the wild which pull at you. Perhaps it may be ridiculous that the urge is so strong as to compete with the chance to commune with the gods in such a tangible way, foolish even, in the eyes of many, but you would never be ashamed of it. Still…

With a huff, you stand up and brush yourself off. If only to sate your curiosity, you reason, taking wide strides to catch up to the fox.

The two of you don’t walk for much longer, but as you do, you hear the jostling again, of a wild animal sniffing at bushes in search of food. And with every step, you realize the sounds are getting louder.

Finally, the fox stops behind the trunk of a large tree, and you come up behind it, crouching down. Why have you brought me here? You think it but don’t ask it out loud, and you don’t have to because you peak around the trunk and find the answer: there’s a deer in the wide clearing, munching on berries it pulls away from a bush. You duck back around and look at the fox in surprise. It had led you to the animal you heard earlier? The fox sits down, looking up at you with its golden eyes, its job done.

You smile. Sometimes what the gods share with mortals is profound, wisdom only coming from the ones who call Olympus home, and other times they simply share a helping hand.

You’re not about to let the opportunity go to waste. Drawing an arrow and nocking it on your bow, you take aim.

***

One meeting is hardly adequate for Apollo. The moment he’d interacted with you, he knew he wanted more.

He thinks about what you’d said, how you thanked him for deciding you to be worthy of his time. And how could you not be? It was a different experience entirely to observe you up close, to see the confusion on your face upon his arrival but then the softening of it as you relaxed and welcomed him, even for how atypical the whole affair was, to get so close to a fox. You understood it to mean something even if you couldn’t say what, and when prompted to follow, you did so.

There had been that momentary struggle when you heard the deer, unsure whether to break away or continue to follow him. He doesn’t fault you for the indecision. If anything, it helped him to better understand the love you harbor for the hunt, and he’s of the opinion that such passion should always be encouraged. He’d been leading you to the deer to begin with, but you didn’t know that, and even so, you pushed aside your desire to track the deer yourself to continue following him, acknowledging that where he might lead you had nothing to do with an animal to catch but being okay with it.

The tone of your voice had been so soft, like petals trailing along skin as one lays in a flower field on a warm day, and your eyes were gentle. He would like you to continue watching him in that way, perhaps on a quiet night, a dark one, when the stars are clear and brilliant so that he can promise you that he would scoop them from the sky and fashion them into a crown for you should you ask. Or if not that, he would gladly rearrange them to form a picture of you, a constellation made of only the brightest, to immortalize you in the heavens.

He sighs with longing he doesn’t bother to hide. His eyes slide closed and all he sees in his mind is you. Always you. He needs to see you again soon, to quell the ache in his chest.

The next time he does meet you, he assumes not the form of a fox, but of a human. He wants the chance to actually speak to you. In the early hours of a clear day, he roams the forest, in the areas you tend to frequent. There’s no worry of running into other people on accident. You tend to only be the one hunting this deeply into the woods.

He hears the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and he turns just in time to see you walk around a tree and into view. Once you spot him, you stop, surprised to find you’re not alone. You hesitate to say anything at first, confusion apparent in your gaze, but you brush it aside as you offer a polite grin.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone out here,” you say.

Apollo chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, feigning sheepishness. “I came here to think and got so lost in my thoughts that, well…” He spreads his arms wide, referring to your surroundings. “I wandered further than I realized.”

You grin widens, and you relax a little more now. “I don’t blame you. The forest is a perfect place to find some peace and quiet.”

Apollo smiles too. “Yes, it really is.”

When you ask for his name, he tells you it’s Loukas. You repeat it, to be sure you heard him correctly, and it’s not as satisfying as he knows it would be to hear you say his real name, but it would have to do for now. Then you say Well it’s nice to meet you, Loukas and it’s heartfelt, yours smile amiable and extending a hand of friendship, should he want that. And yes, he does, very much so, and more still—as much as you’re willing to give.

You ask him questions about himself and he makes up information on the spot, but in an effort to avoid having to conjure up too detailed a backstory, and because he doesn’t want the focus to be on him, for you’re who he wants to learn about, he turns the tables on you and asks about you. It’s surface level, things he already knew by observing you from Olympus—your family and what they do, why you’re out in the forest early in the morning.

But what he gleans from conversing with you goes beyond that. You care for your family deeply, wanting to be a good daughter and older sister. You just want them to be happy, and anything you could do to make it possible, you would do. Hunting began as something practical, done to provide, but you’d grown to love it, energized by the cold air filling your lungs and the rush of blood through your veins when you’re set on a chase. Life for you is generally quiet, but in the forest, with your bow and arrow, it can be livelier, if only for a little while.

Apollo listens with rapt attention as your life unfolds before him and your eyes sparkle from the light of the sun overhead, but he’s more inclined to believe instead that they shine from the stars tucked away within you. Your soul is the essence of another universe and he’d like to live there, Olympus a distant memory but it wouldn’t matter to him, so long as you’re together.

He’d quickly been lost in his musings about you, the life he’d like to live with you, but he’s pulled from it at the mention of a fox and your quiet laugh of disbelief as you recount what a unique encounter it had been.

“Sometimes when my father asks for help watching the sheep, I’ll sit in the pastures and talk to them, but with the fox, it was different. I was sure it could understand what I said.” You chuckle again, embarrassed. “I’d been struggling to find any animals that day too, and that fox led me to a deer. It was like the gods were watching out for me.”

You glance at Apollo, nervous for what his response could be, because it does sound a little outlandish, but he simply smiles warmly. “Olympus rests in the heavens, but on occasion, the gods take care to remind us they’re closer than we think.”

“Well said,” you compliment, then continue teasingly, “Did you hear that from one of the priests?”

Apollo laughs and shrugs noncommittally. “They have a way with words.”

Time with you passes much too quickly and he’s saddened as it draws to a close. Your parting words include an apology for disturbing him, since he’d come to the forest to think, and he’s speaking to you as Apollo, not as Loukas, when he promises that you would never be a disturbance. He’d enjoyed your company, hopes that you’d enjoyed his too and that perhaps this wouldn’t be the end. Until the next meeting? It’s asked in a way that leaves it open, for there’s no set date and you’ll leave it to chance that you run into each other on another day.

You nod and your lips, stretching into a grin, look so soft. “If it be the will of the Fates, we’ll see each other again.”

“I’ll have to pray for their favor then.” He lifts a hand in a wave goodbye, and you return it before making your leave, gradually becoming concealed by the foliage.

But Apollo would do no such thing. The hands of the Fates keep the world turning but where it concerns you, he would pull the strings himself. He doesn’t bother to entertain the idea of what your thread might contain, whether there’s a place for him in it or not, because he doesn’t care to find out. He wants to be with you, and it’s a desire so powerful that he would dare to push back against the Moirai in order to fulfill it.

From the moment he’d said goodbye during your first conversation, he already knew you would meet again. He’d be there in the woods to wait for you. It isn’t the will of the Fates that turns this wheel, but Apollo.

Hermes had noted both the change in Apollo’s demeanor, his propensity for bouts of silence as he watches the earth below, in combination with his recent absences to go down there, but for what, Hermes doesn’t know. Apollo is forward with him as to what he’s been up to, like he had been with Ares, but unlike Ares, Hermes is privy to just what Apollo feels regarding the Fates and their plans for you.

“It’s no small matter to reject what they’ve ordained,” Hermes remarks. “The threads they spin, it’s destiny. Even for that girl who’s caught your eye.”

But Apollo isn’t easily swayed. It’s the strong who admit no destiny, and he would shoulder the burden of Atlas and carry the sky on his back. Where it concerns you, the Fates were a mere interference. He’d forge the future on his own.

***

The way your eyes light up when you do see him again makes everything in the world feel right, and upon your playful comment—It seems the Fates have been kind—he brushes aside the idea of destiny and the Moirai easily. In response, he hums, declares They have despite not meaning it since, well, it isn’t true. And he wishes he could tell you it was his doing, that it would always be him pushing you two together because he wants the praise which falls from your lips to be for him and him alone. Though he supposes there would be time yet to reveal such secrets to you, and despite the irritation he feels at needing to wait, he will do so without complaint.

Besides, he’s too preoccupied paying attention to you to bother complaining. You take up all the space in his mind, and there’s room for little else. It’s entirely unusual for the likes of Apollo to be this enamored with anyone, and he studies your form closely as you talk—the curl of your lashes, the sheen of your hair pulled into a braid, the color of your lips—wondering if you found your beginnings as a sculpture, not a human, and it was Athena who breathed life into your form. If such is the case, where was the pedestal off of which you stepped, leaving it behind without looking back in favor of exploring the world around you? Which lands claimed the privilege to have you on display? Those which he posits as possibilities are hardly worthy, but very few, if any, could be.

Had you come from Olympus? It’s the only place Apollo knows contains beauty to the degree you possess. He imagines you there, in the fields or in the courtyard, settled amongst the flowers and staring overhead at a sun unobscured by clouds. He imagines that you look right at home, and it would be ironic that you should be under his nose this whole time, his songbird easily spotted by glancing out the window of his bedroom. Your every word’s a dream and he delights to hear your honeyed tones. He wants you to pray to him with that sweet voice, and he’d honor all your requests so long as you sang for him.

You’ve started teaching him the calls of various birds which flitter overhead, and the ghost of a smile rests on his lips to hear your enthusiasm. There’s an occasional bout of hesitation on your part, unsure if you’ve identified the calls correctly and digging through your memory for everything Alexios had said, and you flash a toothy grin of satisfaction when the bird whose call you’d been attempting to guess makes its appearance, and you learn you’re correct.

Apollo enjoys this activity, but the only bird whose calls he’s interested is you. He trails his gaze along the column of your throat, envisions the vocal chords within them producing the melody and majesty you radiate. His fingers twitch with the urge to follow the path taken by his eyes, to slide along your jaw, down your neck, touch feather-light and and inquiring from you, in hushed whispers, to what artist he owes an expression of gratitude for gracing him with your existence.

As the days turn into weeks spent together, you only grow closer, and it reaches a point that you suggest he join you and your family for dinner. You look hopeful that he’ll agree, but he can’t, given who he is. He needs to keep his distance from everyone other than you. He hates to be the cause of your disappointment, however slight, and that’s why a heaviness settles in his stomach when he declines.

He’s polite, explaining that he doesn’t want to intrude, and the small smile you’d been wearing fades. Already he’s aching to see it again, wants to beg for it to come back and if you truly wanted him to accompany you, he would do it, any consequences be damned.

Was there a chance that you knew he was lying about the reason? Your head is tilted and you delay giving a response, and maybe you don’t know the real reason (he highly doubts you could figure that out) but you detect enough from the tone of his voice that he fed you a lie. If you do realize it, you don’t address it, and instead, like you heard his earlier wish to see your smile again, that charming smile returns. Now there’s a playfulness to it.

“Then I guess you’ll just be my secret,” you tease.

Apollo grins. It would be his pleasure to be your secret, held close to the heart like all secrets are.

He’d like the beat of your own to help him fall asleep at night. He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about you and whether you’ve also settled in for the evening. If he were to extend arm outward, along the blankets to the empty side, as though reaching for you, he wonders if you’d sense it, the faint touch of his fingertips, a testament to what Apollo feels for you. No distance between you would ever be too great. His dreams are filled with you and perhaps this is a sign that you were thinking of him. He hopes so.

Apollo had been certain of his feelings from the moment he first set his sights on you, but the idea of confessing and revealing his true nature stayed far from his mind. It hadn’t been by any will of his own; he was enamored with you during every meeting, genuinely enjoyed talking, that he hadn’t bothered considering the next step, content in the current moment to just be.

But on a bright afternoon while out in the courtyard, he finally gives it thought, and it’s perfect, really, because sunny days remind him of you, and maybe that’s what prompted the last push. To be around you was to keep a piece of the blessed sun he governs right by his side, your presence warming him even on the stormiest of days, and he desires to know what it would be like to be the recipient of your love as you are of his.

He’s the god of the sun yet he wonders where you have been all these millennia. Maybe your essence had always been there, manifesting in the blooming of flowers one century and then in the powerful flow of a river the next. And on and on your soul drifted through time until it settled within you as you are now, a culmination of the lives you have lived, and maybe Apollo had always known where you were because whenever he looks into your eyes he sees eternity. You’d been with him since the beginning of it all; he was just looking in the wrong places.

There’s a chill in the air on the morning he plans to tell you the truth. You shiver, having come without a cloak, and he offers you his, throwing it around your shoulders before you get the chance to decline. You smile, accepting the help gracefully, and Apollo returns your smile automatically.

Do you remember, he starts, about what I said the day we met? You hum as you attempt to recall what he’s referring to but can’t remember. He doesn’t blame you, since you’d discussed many things then.

“It was about the gods, and how sometimes they’re closer than we think.”

Your eyes light up in recognition. “Oh, yes! But… what about it?”

Apollo doesn’t respond immediately, considering carefully how to phrase his next words. It’s unlike him to be this way, and he is aware, irritatingly so, of the slight hesitation in the back of his brain. It’s not that he’s afraid, because every instance he had imagined this moment, his heartbeat raced not with nerves but with exhilaration. He owes it to the pressure overcoming him to make this flawless, so that you can know the true depth of what he feels toward you. His gaze slides from staring at the horizon down to you, who watches him so attentively, and he realizes the pressure is unfounded. He just needs to be real, and you would understand by the parts he doesn’t say out loud.

So, taking a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, he speaks. “How would you feel to know one had been at your side?”

“You mean that fox?”

“Not just the fox, but every time you ventured into these woods. You hadn’t been alone.”

Your head tilts. “I wasn’t alone all the time: I had you.”

Apollo goes quiet, waiting to see if you connect the dots yourself. He looks at you and envisions the gears in your head spinning as you stare at each other. Saying it out loud, what he’d been implying, would have garnered the same result as staying silent. His lack of words is still a response to your unspoken question, and he notices the unease which settles on your face, expressive as always, unable to hide what you’re thinking and feeling.

“Loukas…?” Your voice is hushed. Maybe you only say the name because you want to ask what he means, wanting to hear it explicitly, or because you’re questioning if that’s even his real name.

Apollo notices that now you look at him as you did during your first interaction, when the first few polite greetings had been exchanged: like a stranger. You’re keeping yourself guarded, and there’s a tightening sensation in his chest and he hates it. He hates how it hurts and hates to see you look at him that way. And he would never fault you for it because he’d kept his identity a secret, but he loves you and the only way to show it to you, to make it real, was if he told you the truth of who he is first.

He shakes his head. “I go by another name.”

He transforms before you, his mortal covering falling away and giving rise to his divine form. The burst of light which issues forth from this process is so bright you need to cover your eyes. You bring your arm up, and he’d like to reach out and take hold of it, to gently lower it to your side so that he might meet your gaze, but he restrains himself and, instead, says your name quietly, a signal that it’s okay to look now.

And you do. Your eyes are wide in astonishment, your mind no doubt scrambling to process the fact a god is standing in front of you. Sure, you might’ve interacted with one before, in the form of that red fox, but this is something else. This isn’t a vague manifestation, like another animal or a dream, the mysterious—and more typical—methods gods tended to utilize for communication with mortals, but a literal god. No veil or disguise. No hiding.

Apollo studies you closely, contemplates the myriad of emotions which are no doubt flittering through your mind like a dozen little hummingbirds. He keeps his tone tender, for you’re already shocked, and he realizes the situation is a delicate one. Suddenly you start to resemble the deer who roam the forest—graceful in posture and magnificent to behold but still tense, prepared to flee the moment you detect there’s anything unusual.

My name is Apollo, he says lowly. And since I first laid my eyes on you, I have been with you here in these woods.

You take in his appearance: the long blond hair, tanned skin, golden eyes which match the sun shining behind his head high in the sky. He’s beautiful, and that should come as no surprise where it concerns an Olympian, but to witness his beauty yourself is an experience unlike any other, leagues above merely hearing from the priests how he might look or observing the sculptures fashioned as praise for him.

His eyes are what draw most of your attention, and they are kind as well as familiar. They mirror the brighten golden gaze of another being you had encountered in the past, and you let out a quiet breath of disbelief. He had been with you even then. Your intuition speculating that the fox had been a god wasn’t unfounded at all. It hadn’t been an aimless musing, a what-if because you’ve heard the stories of gods appearing to mortals. You’d been correct. It had been fact.

“But why…” You trail off, unable to finish the question because truthfully, how could you? The implications of his actions, of spending all this time with you, only to reveal his true self, speaks for a reality you are having trouble coming to terms with. Why you?

Apollo understands what you’re asking without you needing to continue, and in readying himself to explain from the very beginning, the corner of his lips lifts in a tiny smile as he reminisces on the first words he’d heard you say to him, indirect but meant for him all the same.

“The day was cold, fresh off the heels of a rainstorm the night before,” he starts. “You asked the sun to keep you warm and kept your footsteps to the places on the earth where it touched.”

You remember that moment, and it surprises you that it had reached him, because it hadn’t been a prayer, not a genuine one. Simply a playful aside.

Apollo’s smile grows. Sincere prayer or no, I heard it, and when I did, I wanted to know the one who said it. He explains to you it was your gentle tone which pulled him in, voice laced with affection which underlies your every word, and he wanted to hear more of it, to hear you sing and it could be about anything—your hunts, your family, gossip from the markets—and he would hang, and has hung, on it all because everything you say is the sweetest melody. You put the birds to shame.

And this, he hopes, is adequate to answer your query. He’d seen the confusion on your face, wondering why you had stuck out. He wants to help you understand, see things from his point of view, because even if you might not think so yourself, you’re remarkable. At the tail-end of his speech, throughout which a sense of eagerness had been clawing at him from the inside because this was it—the moment he confesses and might finally feel the softness of your skin against his, might finally hear you say his name—he tells you he loves you.

You’re at a loss for words, as his hang in the air between you, and Apollo had been expecting a reaction of this sort. To be loved by a god was no small matter. But what he isn’t expecting is the shake of your head, slowly at first, like you’re uncertain, but then again, more assertive. It’s his turn to be confused and he murmurs your name, a slight upturn at the end as if asking a question.

“You don’t love me,” you state.

Apollo’s brows furrow. “I assure you there’s little else which I have been so confident about before.”

“But a god and a human together…” You shake your head again. “It’s not meant to last.”

His heart wrenches painfully in his chest to hear you say that, though he understands where you come from. Such stories were common, himself being the god in some of them. The relationships are temporary, but this time, with you, he’s serious. His feelings for you are real, transcending the point of mere infatuation. He loves you and the declaration isn’t empty. He’s almost desperate now as he tries to come up with a way to convince you that your own story, between the two of you, would have no tragic end, maybe even no end at all. Because when stories reach the closing, happy or not, there is always inherent in the drawing of the curtains a perceived sadness, a pulling away from the world upon the stage and one is unceremoniously thrust back into reality, which is nowhere near as spectacular. It’s a disappointment he never wants to feel with you, and he would do all he could do keep you together.

“I sometimes wondered if there was anyone for whom I would change the course of the sun,” he tells you, his eyes drifting upward to glance at the sky. “And I could think of no one until I saw you. I told myself that if you so desired, I would keep the sky free of clouds so you might always feel the warmth of the sun.” His eyes slide back down to meet your own. “If you wished with that sweet voice of yours for the sun to rise in the west and set in the east, I would do it.”

You’re visibly more relaxed now, your gaze having softened as he spoke. It shines with the temptation to give in, to accept his love and give him yours in return, but a small part of you continues to struggle with the idea of loving a god. Apollo hopes you can see the sincerity on his face, as close to a desperate plea as he can get short of actually begging out loud.

“And if I were to ask for that,” you start, "for the sun to rise in the west and set in the east, what of the earth? The crops and the people who rely on its consistent path through the sky?”

Apollo shakes his head. “None of that would matter to me. Don’t you see?” He says your name again, and in a fit of irony the tables have turned because your name upon his lips is a prayer in its own right. “To be with you is to have the world fall away.”

Tentatively, he lifts a hand to set it gently on your cheek. You don’t flinch or back away, and he sighs, one of satisfaction to finally feel your skin, the softness of it to match that of your eyes and your voice and your everything. He declares it to you once more. I love you. And he would keep declaring it until you believed him.

You cover his hand with yours and lean into his hold. There’s still conflict in your gaze, a storm of emotion, and the way you murmur his name sounds like a call for help. You want to be saved. You want to be rid of the discord within you and to accept all he has to give, and you’re closer to the edge, have moved closer with his every word, but the last bit of hesitation keeps you from falling over. Apollo…

The breath leaves his lungs to hear you utter his name, a sound he has longed to hear since the first time he heard you speak. There’s a twisting in his chest but now it’s from that flood of love which he is barely able to contain. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, and he’ll fight against the hesitation you continue to feel, chip away at it until it’s only you and him and he could guide you over the edge and into his embrace.

His thumb strokes your cheek, a comforting back and forth motion. “We’re meant for each other.”

“You speak of destiny, but who other than the Fates can determine what any of us are truly meant for?”

Apollo is reminded of the conversation he had with Hermes what seems like many moons ago. All at once the fires of passion flare with him, magnified by his defiance of the Fates. When he’d declared to Hermes that where it concerned you, the future was his to forge, he’d been serious. He proclaims it now to you, promises that when it comes to the two of you, the Fates are powerless.

“The thread of your life is spun and measured by the Moirai, but I would pluck it from the hand of Atropos and her shears so that you might stay with me forever.”

It’s his final appeal, the ultimate supplication, to dare to go against the hand of fate. You understand the gravity of this assertion, and at hearing it, the last of those defenses in you drops, and there’s a clearing of the storm clouds, which he detects in the clarity of your gaze. As you look up at him, you do so with sureness, with love, and to bear witness to and be the recipient of your radiant affection is to make the task of intertwining your own fates as easy as waking up in the morning. You give him the strength to carry it out and there truly is no one else for whom he would go to such lengths for.

He kisses you and your lips are warm. Maybe you’re a piece of the sun that has fallen to earth, a shooting star which has made its home here until he found you. You’re the part of him that’s been missing, and holding you now, Apollo is aware of how complete he feels.

Upon parting, you remain close and watch one other. The silent look shared is intense, profound; two hearts beating the same lonely tune, fiercely longing for love and not caring what the world—or the heavens—might think.

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