#Air Taxi Market

[marketsndata]

[heich0e]

“Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Your head pops up as the unexpected voice makes itself known, twisting your face towards the sound only to see a figure standing at the end of the alley. He’s silhouetted where he stands—a shape more than a person. You can tell he’s tall, broad, and has a knot of hair tied up loosely at his crown. 

Geto Suguru steps into the light where you can see him better, though it makes his sudden appearance no less surprising. 

“Did you drink too much?” he asks, treading a few steps closer as he eyes you worriedly. You pull yourself up from where you’d been crouching on the ground.

“No, no. Just getting some air,” you reply with a stiff smile, dipping in a bow and quickly adjusting your pencil skirt once you’re back upright.

He has his tie loosened over his shirt with the top button undone, and his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen. He considers you for a moment, and his attention makes you want to fidget but you fight the urge.

You watch as he pulls packet of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt and offers it out to you. “Do you smoke?”

“No, thank you,” you say with a quick shake of your head, smoothing your hands along the front of your skirt and then moving to step past him back towards the entrance of the restaurant. “I should go.”

He angles his body in your way before you can.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says, peering down at you. His face is partially in shadow because of how he’s standing, angled between you and the mouth of the alleyway that leads back to the busy street, caught in a small dark patch between the streetlights and the light affixed to the grungy brick wall. He tips his face up and the light touches his features once more, catching in his brown eyes as he waits in anticipation of your response.

“I should get back inside.” It’s strangely difficult to meet his gaze, so instead you look past him towards the street as an unwelcome heat surges up your throat to flood your face. A car passes quickly by the alley, and you watch as the headlights come and go in a flash.

“Why?” the man before you asks, placing the cigarette he’d fished out of the pack to his lips. He uses his teeth to keep it there while he fumbles through his pockets for a lighter. “You’re clearly having a terrible time in there.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his in shock.

“No I’m not,” your reply is notably indignant, even though his accusation is valid.

How would he know anyway?

“The smiley, nice-girl bit’s gotta be getting old, isn’t it? Pouring everyones drinks. Cleaning up everyones messes.” He laughs, though it’s only to himself, before clicking his lighter to life and holding it to the tip of his cigarette until it catches. The cherry burns red and bright on an inhale, and smoke slips from his lips as he adds, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not your boss.”

“I’m not lying,” you insist, but your performance isn’t particularly convincing. 

Truthfully, the very last thing you wanted to do after a ten-hour work day—capping off a fifty-hour work week—was come out drinking with your colleagues. You’ve never really liked these kinds of gatherings, even if the company is the one footing the bill. They always get a bit too rowdy for your liking. Always drag on a bit too long. And you know that you’ll inevitably be the one stuck forcing your plastered boss into a taxi in the wee hours of the morning, while the rest of your equally-sloshed coworkers find their own ways home.

But the department chair, the very same one you’re sure will be singing karaoke with his tie around his forehead in only a few short hours, had been adamant that everyone in marketing attend the gathering since the sales section was joining in too. 

Hence the sales employee standing toe-to-toe with you, blocking your path.

You know Geto Suguru, but only indirectly. The sales and marketing departments are separated by a single floor in your company’s office building, and often work on projects together. Geto is a section lead in sales, with a long, illustrious history behind him before he worked his way up to that role. He’s made a lot of money for the company, and a lot of friends along the way—what with his easy charm, silver tongue, and undeniable good looks. His reputation precedes him—in both good ways and bad.

The fact that he’s here talking to you—a fresh-faced, relatively new-to-role nobody in comparison to his lengthy history with the business—is what you have a hard time wrapping your head around.

“Sure, sure.” Geto waves his hand dismissively, ash fluttering off in tiny specks from the end of his lit cigarette. “I’m sure you just love making all those copies, remembering coffee orders, and running that section lead of yours’s errands too. Oh, and don’t forget when he takes credit for your ideas.”

Your stomach drops. 

He keeps going.

“This upcoming brand collaboration is exciting,”—he takes a puff of his cigarette, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you—“too bad no one knows it was you who came up with it, huh?” 

Your fists clench tightly at your sides, your lips pressing together in a thin line.

Geto blows the last of the smoke in his lungs from the corner of his pursed lips, away from you.

“That’s the first honest expression I’ve seen on your face all night,” he says with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

Your hands are shaking.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask him weakly.

He tilts his head to the side, like your question confounds him.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says, and he sounds like he genuinely means it. “Have I said anything that isn’t true?”

You bite your lip, staring down at your pretty, professional pumps as you stand on the craggy pavement of the alley.

“You’re allowed to be angry, but don’t direct it at me for pointing out the people who keep screwing you over,” Geto says, and the way his voice sounds a bit nearer and the smell of his cigarette gets stronger tells you that he’s dipped down closer to you even though you don’t watch him do it. “No one’s gonna hand anything to you if you don’t fight for it.”

You glance up at him, your expression and your tone equally flat. “And what if I’m not a fighter?”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” he says, chuckling a bit as he backs away from you.

You watch him as he watches you—contemplates you, like he’s sizing you up. He drops cigarette suddenly to the ground, still only half-burned, and crushes it with the toe of his shoe. You hold your breath as he takes another step towards you.

He leans forward.

“Hit me.”

“Pardon me?” The bewildered question rushes out of you all in one gasping breath, and you take a loping step back in shock.

“Come on, just one,” the man goads you further, rapping against his jaw with the knuckle of his index finger as a smile twists his lips up at the corners.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out incredulously, shaking your head and quickly moving to step past him.

“I’m not.” He sidles smoothly into your path once more before you get the chance to flee, like he’s half-a-step ahead of you at all times. 

It’s infuriating.

“Alright, then you’re just insane,” you offer instead.

You knew the sales department had a reputation for being a bit wild, but this is beyond all your expectations. This is nothing like the charming, easy going Geto that you’ve heard all your female colleague gossiping about in the break room.

His smile falls, and he crosses his arms over his chest. You try not to pay too much attention to the way his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m still your senior, y’know,” he says, and his voice is a little bit colder now. More admonishing.

You’re very acutely aware of that fact without him saying it.

You huff out a frustrated little breath through your nose, crossing your own arms over your chest in a mirror of his stance.

“I’m not hitting you.”

Geto’s brow quirks curiously.

“Why not?”

You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.

“Because that’s assault,” you counter his question shortly.

“It’s only assault if I press charges—which I won’t.” You know he’s telling the truth but it doesn’t make it any more convincing. He tilts his head to the side again, and a silky strand of his dark hair slips into his eyes. “Haven’t you ever hit anyone before? It’s cathartic.”

Your lips part in an expression of astonishment. “Of course I haven’t.”

The man in front of you looks mildly surprised at your answer.

“Do I look like someone who goes around fighting people?” you ask him incredulously.

“You look like you’ve got some repressed rage in you,” he says with a smirk, and the expression only worsens when he sees the way you react to it.

He taps his cheek again before tucking both his hands behind his back and leaning in close to you, like a man offering himself up to the executioner’s block. He shuts his eyes.

“C’mon, just a little one.”

“I won’t.”

“You should.”

“I won’t.”

“How come?”

You take his face in your hands suddenly, tilting it up to meet your gaze.

“Geto-san,” you say quietly, your tone bordering on desperate. “I’m not going to hit you, so please stop asking.”

He opens his eyes slowly, his dark lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you. After a moment he smiles, and his eyes curve into narrow crescents as he leans subtly into your touch.

It’s quiet in the alley, but your heartbeat is quick underneath your skin.

“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks you coyly.

You’re still cupping his cheeks in your hands. 

They’re warm.

“You really are crazy,” you reply softly to his question, though it’s not much of a reply at all.

He hums, turning his face so his nose drags across your wrist. His lips brush against your palm as he speaks once more. “I’ve been called worse.”

You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth.

Slowly, the dark haired man picks himself up to his usual height. He’s closer to you now than he’s ever been—and thanks to the little cat and mouse game that the two of you have been playing, you’re very nearly pressed against the alley wall. You can’t even see the street anymore beyond the expanse of his wide shoulders.

Everywhere you look, you only see him.

The realization sits hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“I know you’re a good girl, but what are we gonna do about all that stuff you’ve got pent up in there?” Geto lifts his hand and presses a featherlight touch to your sternum over your diaphragm, his fingertips trailing delicately against the smooth plane where the arch of your ribs ends. Your breath hitches painfully as you stare up at him, a sticky knot at the back of your throat preventing you from forming any response—not that you can think of anything to say. 

Geto smiles down at you, his expression soft.

You see the faintest flash of sharp teeth behind his pink lips.

“Don’t you want me to help you let it out?”

[ferrstappen]

max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3

also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...

ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3

summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.

Max arrived to the track by himself.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual. 

But you weren’t right there next to him. 

He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics. 

Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.

On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day. 

Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key. 

But you saw her…

Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?

Who are you cheering today?

Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year! 

Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?

Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell. 

Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with. 

But wasn’t that a Haas credential?

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails. 

“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed. 

“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”

“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you” 

He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life. 

Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…

When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory. 

He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.

He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you. 

You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room. 

“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door. 

“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets. 

“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.

"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.

"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.

Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted. 

“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”

“Deux what?”

“They have all the inside scoops  and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.

“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.

You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max. 

“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”

[annievrse]

dreamland

satoru x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: on a mission to thailand, you and satoru realise you actually like like each other w/c: 1.3k c/w: idiots in love ig?? a little rushed

“You need anything?” The question broke the silence of the thick, humid air. A light touch grazed your upper arm in concern, and you looked up to meet the azure gaze upon your face. “Water, snacks, a smooch?”

“I’m okay, ‘Toru,” You scoffed, squinted through the relentless sun rays on your body, and shook your head at the taller male. “And I definitely do not need a smooch.”

He leaned down slightly, his face appearing in front of you. “Are you sure? Because I heard Shoko and Utahime talking about a certain someone’s crush—”

“Satoru,” You interrupted, nudging your shoulder into his arm, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment at the mention of your best friends speaking of such things behind your back. “Quit talking shit. We’ve things to do.”

With his fair eyebrows and hands raised, he turned to face you, walking backwards. “Fine.” 

“Fine.”

“But,” He slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to peer at you and winked. “Don’t pretend I don’t know exactly who and what they were talking about.” 

If he saw the falter in your step, he didn't say. “Keep dreaming, Gojo. Get moving.”

Yaga had sent the pair of you to Thailand under the ruse of a reward for your handwork – you’d rolled your eyes when he handed you a manila folder, but Satoru was ecstatic to travel with you. And despite the steep temperatures and sticky humidity, it had been an experience like no other: fruit juice dripping down chins, salty hair, flirty teasing, bright smiles, karaoke in busy restaurants, sandy feet, warm cheeks, running through sudden downpours, private villas, and the street markets that provided Satoru with enough gifts for you to last a lifetime. 

A clap in front of your face struck you from your daze. 

“Got it!” Satoru exclaimed, opening his palms to show the squashed mosquito between his hands. He stepped back beside you and swung his arm over your shoulders, to which you shrugged off sheepishly.

“Gross,” You mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses and checking your phone. The cursed spirit was around here somewhere…

“You know, I love being here with you…”

Rolling your eyes at his casual flirting and the familiar warmth filling your cheeks, you stopped walking and looked to your left. There. 

You took a step toward the abandoned hospital. It’d taken two buses and four taxis to get here, and you weren’t wasting any more time not exorcising this curse when you headed to the building’s entrance. 

“…and I thought Yaga was up to something when he mentioned this trip, but I truly believe—hey!”

You ignored Satoru, who stood a few ten yards away with his arms up. Holding up your hand to silence him, you peered into the window of the facility. Beside a few dusty chairs, it was empty. 

“Don’t run off without telling me,” He grumbled when he stepped beside you. “What if you got hurt?” 

You tilted your head. “I’m standing here uninjured, aren’t I?”

“You are so—” 

The door creaked open when you pushed on it. “Let’s go.” 

Satoru swore he was pointing lasers at you when his eyes met the back of your head. He mimicked you quietly, throwing his head back in exasperation before following you. 

Glass cracked under his sandals when he stepped through the main lobby, sidestepping a stray IV pole. You were already heading up the stairs on the other side of the building when Satoru pushed his sunglasses over his hair. The dense cursed energy of something lurked nearby, and he was sure as hell not going to let it near you. Yes, you would be pissed, he thought as he wandered the lower corridors, but he’d rather have you angry at him than dead. 

When did you get to the 16th floor? You thought as you passed the sign on the stairwell. Clasping your phone firmly, you hopped over fallen wheelchairs and discarded papers with agility, careful not to make a sound. You could feel the cursed energy far more on this level than any other, and it was just a matter of steps until—“Satoru!” 

The panic in your voice was palpable, and Satoru couldn’t move his legs fast enough as he took the fire stairs two at a time, his heart seemingly working over time both in exertion and anxiety. 

Crashing through the door to the sixteenth floor, Satoru paused—a burly deep green creature twisted over you, its claws disturbingly close to your throat. 

The curse giggled manically at the sight of you, one of its many talons brushing your cheek softly. With hurried breaths and glassy eyes, it was the first time Satoru had seen you caught off guard—it was terrifying.

“Dirty humans,” The curse leered, bending down to swipe its tongue along your collarbone. You recoiled in disgust, daring a look back at Satoru, who stood with his eyes focused on the green thing above you. “So repulsive to look at, but so tasty.”

Satoru’s scoff caused the curse to break its gaze from you. 

“Little thing about humans…” The white-haired male teased, his words light. “We don’t really like it when the people we love are about to get eaten.”

You closed your eyes at Satoru’s sentence but had no time to think it over when the curse groaned, unfolding to its full height. “What a pity.”

“It is!” Satoru laughed dryly, stepping over debris. “Because I hoped to have so much fun with you, but this will only take a second.”

Clenching your fist tightly, you flicked your pointer finger out, the action prompting the rumble of concrete in the corner of the corridor to form together. But with the curse’s focus on the male behind you, it didn't notice the lingering mass of rock at its rear. Perfect. 

And when you felt the familiar suffocation of the Limitless technique, Satoru expelled the tiniest flash of red from his fingertips. You threw your arm up, and with the collective strength of both techniques, the curse was crushed between Limitless and your wall of solid stone until it was purple sludge. There was a quiet moment before Satoru rushed toward you.

You coughed at the feeling of guts on your body as he checked you over for injuries. His hand held yours tightly, and he didn’t care when his sunglasses slipped off his head and cracked on the floor. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, though you think it was more to himself than to you. 

“I’m okay,” You reassured him, resting your other hand on his cheek. “And you’re okay.” 

Satoru shook his head. “I don’t care about me.”

Sighing, you ran your fingers through his hair. “I do, so let me look at you.” 

Pink dusted his sunkissed cheeks, and when you finished running your eyes over him slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. 

“I thought you were gonna die there.”

You looked up at him in shock. “I didn’t.” 

“Why?” He asked, his forehead creased. 

“Because the rock I formed would’ve taken him out instantly,” You said, reaching to flick his forehead. “And because you’re here.” 

Satoru’s expression switched instantly, blue eyes bright as they flickered between yours. His heart squeezed in his chest at the fondness in your gaze and the feeling of your arms circling his waist. 

“Can we go home now?” Satoru asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I wanna take you out.” 

And this time, you didn’t shrug his arm off. “You're not joking this time?"

Satoru's eyes widened and he mumbled your name softly. "It was never a joke. Not to me."

You were silent in contemplation until Satoru's lips pressed tenderly against your temple, and you knew you'd been too blinded by his usual teasing to see the good, genuine intentions behind his every move toward you. And now you'd do anything to keep it.

So, you closed your eyes, your chest tingly and warm and full of confidence. "Satoru, you can take me out anywhere if you provide the smooches.”

A cackle escaped him. “Oh, that can definitely be arranged.” 

[triple-7-heaven]

ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were. 

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…” 

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked. 

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret. 

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her. 

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be. 

-

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard. 

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush. 

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly. 

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs. 

“Uh… I don’t-” 

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation… 

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary. 

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave. 

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world. 

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.” 

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom. 

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats. 

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest. 

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?” 

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too. 

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway. 

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat. 

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask. 

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.” 

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?” 

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect… 

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear. 

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot… 

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn. 

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you. 

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines. 

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh. 

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you. 

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be. 

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid… 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say. 

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously? 

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out? 

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute. 

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang. 

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles. 

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!” 

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor. 

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face. 

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms. 

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly. 

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch. 

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.” 

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.” 

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water. 

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front. 

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers. 

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag. 

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal. 

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera. 

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her. 

“Yeah, these are good,” you say. 

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?” 

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool. 

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist. 

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there. 

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.” 

Really? 

“Why?” 

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay? 

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say. 

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen. 

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before. 

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband. 

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…” 

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in. 

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there. 

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask. 

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..." 

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit. 

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving. 

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit. 

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions. 

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off. 

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you? 

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy. 

“What?” she giggles. 

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble. 

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.” 

‘Baby.’ 

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically. 

“God, so full…” she moans. 

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…” 

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling. 

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips. 

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…” 

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.” 

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest. 

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says. 

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.” 

-

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her. 

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.” 

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily. 

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…” 

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck. 

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing. 

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows. 

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…” 

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp. 

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back. 

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly. 

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind. 

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows. 

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.” 

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask. 

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.” 

Together? A journey? 

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep. 

Is this part gonna go in the blog post? 

[totowlff]

the betrayal

➝ you never allowed yourself distractions during work. but how can you resist such a beautiful one?

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: smut, polish, crimes

➝ author’s note: i still don't know how i wasn't arrested after this story, considering the number of people and real events involved.

The apartment was dark, the furniture illuminated by the soft moonlight that leaked through the curtains that covered the balcony door. As you tried to figure out whether what was next to the frame on the wall was a lamp or a tall plant in a pot, the door behind you locked to the sound of keys jingling, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

And then, you felt a large hand slide down your neck, fingers brushing your skin teasingly, but without squeezing. Feeling them rise up your jaw, leaving a trail of excitement in its wake, you knew there was no turning back.

— Maria — a deliciously deep voice whispered in your ear, while an arm wrapped around your waist. Then, with a pull, you felt your body fit against that of the owner of the hand whose thumb caressed your skin. Even with the fabric of his shirt and your dress between you, you could feel the heat and power emanating from the man who nibbled your ear and made the words melt in your brain.

This was wrong, you knew it. But, how could you resist Toto Wolff?

After the photo you sent of the little porcelain figure on your shelf, the two of you began to exchange cordial messages, talking about ordinary things in your routine. It didn't take long for you to discover that Toto had a stock market investment company, whose office was close to the cafe where you had first bumped into each other. That detail ended up becoming the pretext for you to meet again and this time, with nothing fragile between you.

That moment between you made you feel lighter. It was as if there, in front of him, you left all the tension and anxiety that surrounded that investigation outside the cafe. Toto was light, fun, a breath of fresh air in your days in Vienna. And, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you knew you were falling more and more in love with that man.

The invitation to dinner came naturally after you said you hated the famous wiener schnitzel. After arguing in defense of his favorite dish, Toto said, with a smile, that he knew a place that had a schnitzel that would make you completely change your mind about the dish.

— If you want, we can have dinner there on Friday — he murmured, suggestively.

And you couldn't say no.

Wearing a blue satin dress, which you had bought in a hurry at a department store, since you had brought nothing remotely suitable for a date, you allowed yourself a night without thinking about your mission in Vienna. Between bites of schnitzel and laughter that made your chest warm, you had in mind that moment was just yours and Toto's.

And you wanted to make the most of it all.

And that meant melting in his arms. It meant feeling his hands press your body against his tightly, while feeling him taste the wine that was still on his tongue. It meant ditching the taxi you had called and going with him to the apartment he had nearby, feeling his warm palm press against your thigh the entire way. It meant staring into his hungry brown eyes through the reflection of the elevator mirror while his mouth distributed bites in your neck.

— You look so beautiful — Toto murmured in your ear, his deep voice taking you back to the present, where you were about to combust — So hot in that little blue dress of yours...

— I chose it for you — you replied, your hands resting on the arm that wrapped around your waist.

— Oh, yeah? Did you choose it for me?

— Yeah — you sighed, feeling him press your body harder against his, causing something hard to rub against your back — You like blue...

He chuckled against your skin, as he led you through the dark living room slowly.

— And how did you find out about that?

— Your shirts — you panted, feeling him place his hand against your belly — All blue...

Laughter sounded again throughout the apartment, accompanied by a sudden movement. Rotating you on your own axis, you faced Toto, whose face illuminated by the shy light of the moon allowed you to see the intensity of his gaze on you. An intensity that couldn't be compared to any man who had ever been in that position in relation to you.

— Smart girl — he murmured.

You smiled, feeling a certain pride grow inside your chest.

— Pretty too — Toto added, before kissing you again, his tongue exploring your mouth voraciously, as if you were going to escape at any moment. But you knew you would never be capable of that, not when you were sure you would combust if you didn't have that man to yourself that night.

— Szkoda, że tak dużo kłamiesz — he whispered against your mouth, something about the way he pronounced the syllables making your skin tingle deliciously.

— What does that mean? — you asked softly, your curiosity overriding your own desire to take Toto to bed.

Pulling his face away from yours, he smiled mischievously.

— That I can't wait to take off that dress of yours.

Giggling, you kissed him again, allowing Toto to lead you through the dark hallways of the apartment. Your heavy breathing and his giggles joined the staggering steps when he noticed the way you tried to unbutton his shirt, trying to feel his skin under your fingers.

— Calm down, moje skarbie — Toto said, before turning on the light from the lamps that lined the enormous bed that occupied one of the walls of the room. In the dim light, you could see the amusement in his eyes, as if you were exactly the way he wanted — So impatient...

— I want you — you stammered, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping you upright.

Limiting himself to a low laugh, Toto took you towards the mattress, his hands busy with the zipper on your back. The short, hissing sound was accompanied by the soft touch of satin sliding down your body, leaving a trail of anticipation across your skin.

Toto's dark eyes stared at your silhouette as if you were a feast and he was a hungry man. However, instead of simply satiating himself, he took long seconds to appreciate every detail, his gaze moving down your skin in an attempt to keep every little piece of you in his own mind. However, one detail made him smile mischievously.

— No panties this whole time?

— Yes — you replied softly — It appeared on the dress...

Raising a hand to your face, you could feel the excitement bubbling just below your navel.

— Just for that? —  he asked, as his fingers slowly slid down your skin.

— Yes — you managed to say, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you saw his hand approach your right nipple. Lightly brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your areola, you could see his satisfaction in having you there, completely at the mercy of his touch and desire.

— I thought you wanted to make things easier — Toto whispered.

— Do you prefer easy things, Mr. Wolff? — you asked in a challenging tone.

He smiled, pinching your nipple lightly. That touch sent an electric shock through your body.

— I prefer the right things, no matter how much of a mistake they seem.

Something about that sentence made your heart beat heavy in your chest.

— This is a mistake? — you questioned in a low voice.

— Maybe. Do you think it's a mistake? — he returned the question, while his hand slid towards your waist.

— No — you replied — You would never be a mistake.

— Naiwna dziewczynka — Toto murmured, before pulling you against him and capturing your lips again.

Completely surrendered to his touch, you let yourself be led around the room in slow steps, giggling when you felt the man suddenly stand below you as he sat down on the mattress. With his hands on your waist, Toto positioned you so that his leg was between yours, making you straddle his thigh.

Bringing your hands to his shoulders, you began to move your hips almost instinctively, rubbing your pussy against his pants. With a small smile of satisfaction, he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

— You're a very needy girl, you know that? — Toto murmured, with a teasing smile.

You even thought about answering, but there were no words that could convey the hot sensation that took over your skin and made your pulse roar in your ears. So, you kissed Toto, trying to convey in that simple touch all the intensity of your desire, your need to feel him inside you, filling the void between your legs that bothered you more every second.

As the kiss deepened, you moved your hips faster, rubbing your clit against the cream-colored fabric. The texture was perfect, causing your muscles to tense and your fingers to squeeze Toto's shoulders tighter and tighter.

— Fuck — you panted against his mouth, the sensation growing in your belly by the second.

— Skarbie — he whispered, his hands holding your hips tightly, as if trying to guide you to orgasm. But you didn't need or want to be led by him, especially when you knew that path so well — Are you…

— Yes, yes, my God — you moaned loudly, closing your eyes tightly as you felt your body showing the first signs that it was about to come apart — Yes, yes, yes, yes!

The hot wave ran through your body suddenly, the overwhelming sensation causing all your muscles to tremble. Throwing your head back, a loud, sharp moan escaped your throat, leaving you completely breathless.

That orgasm had definitely joined the list of the best you had ever had.

— Maria? — Toto asked somewhere far away in your head, while you still felt your body shaking with involuntary spasms.

— Hm? — you murmured, feeling your skin warm and pulsing as you returned to Earth.

— You didn't say you were going to cum — he said in a serious tone.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him, seeming to process that sentence amid the adrenaline that was still coursing through your veins.

— I…

— And you made a mess on my pants — Toto added, making you look down, finding a dark stain on the fabric, the result of the pleasure that had dripped from you. The sight made your cheeks feel hot with embarrassment, accentuated by the way he looked at you.

— I thought you wouldn't care about that...

He clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied.

— What, are you going to be upset about pants? —  you asked, an eyebrow raised.

— Get up — Toto said, seriously. His tone showed that this was not a simple provocation, but an order. And orders were to be obeyed.

Standing, you watched the way he stood in front of you, imposing, almost threatening. His eyes seemed even darker when they were fixed on you, completely naked in front of him. It was as if he were a predator, completely satisfied with having captured his prey and about to feast on it.

— On the bed — he ordered — All fours.

You complied in silence, feeling your skin crawl as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees on the soft mattress. The expectation you felt was huge, your heart beating heavy in your chest as you waited for Toto's next order.

However, instead of words, you heard the sound of metal against the floor, as well as fabric against skin. The idea of seeing that man completely naked made you turn your face back to see him, even if just a little.

And then, a crack echoed through the room. The sharp pain you felt in your right buttock was mixed with the excitement of finding Toto's eyes staring at you sternly. He definitely liked to command and, as strange as it seemed, you were enjoying obeying him.

— I don't remember telling you to turn around — he murmured, while his hand massaged the place where he had slapped you.

— Do I need your permission now? — you asked, defiantly.

A new slap, this time on the opposite buttock, made a gasp escape your lips. Surprise replaced the expectation of being punished for not being able to remain silent when you felt Toto put his hand on the back of your neck and pull you back. Kneeling on the bed, you could feel his skin against your back, as well as his breath against your neck.

— You're a little brat, Maria — he whispered.

— Is that a bad thing?  — you asked, a mischievous smile on your face.

— I don't like brats.

— Are you going to punish me for this?

Toto chuckled.

— I should, so you can stop being insolent.

— You like my insolence.

He didn't respond, preferring to return you to the position he wanted you to be in on the bed, with your arms resting on the mattress and your butt sticking up in the air.

— I like it when you're a good girl — he murmured, as his fingers slipped into your pussy, spreading your wetness across your vulva — Can you be a good girl?

The touch made you let out a shaky breath, your nails digging into your palms with how tightly you clenched your hands.

— Yes, I can — you managed to respond.

Feeling his hands on your hips, you didn't have time to prepare yourself before feeling him fill you completely. The sensation made your arms give out and a loud moan escape your lips, as you squeezed your eyes shut, savoring the pleasure mixed with a hint of pain.

— Fuck — Toto grunted above you, fingers squeezing your skin as he began to move against your hips, trying to establish some rhythm — You're... Fuck... Tight as hell...

You did not know how to answer, especially with Toto thrusting against your pussy, so you allowed yourself to sink your head against the duvet, hands gripping the fabric tightly. The sound of moans and sighs mixed with the noise of your skin colliding in a constant and delicious rhythm.

At that moment, you were sure that all the obstacles you had imposed on yourself up to that point had been completely irrational, not to mention idiotic. You had the right to feel good, to feel desired, to feel satisfied sexually, even if everything that led you to that bed was a lie.

“Men lie all the time,” you remembered saying to yourself before leaving your rented apartment that night to meet up with Toto. However, that thought wasn't able to shake off the feeling of guilt that took over you every time he called you Maria. He didn't deserve that, you knew, but it was the only way to protect him from all the mess you were involved in.

You came back from your own thoughts when you heard a slap sound across the room, followed by a familiar burning sensation on your butt. But you didn't complain about the pain, quite the opposite.

— Naprawdę jesteś małą, brudną dziwką, prawda? — Toto muttered, through his teeth — Kto by pomyślał, że kolacja wystarczy, abyś tu był, z moim kutasem w sobie…

— Toto — you moaned, feeling a warm wave of pleasure run over your skin. Something about the way he said those words made you want to melt into that bed.

— Nie jestem idiotą. Zawsze wiedziałem, że mnie okłamujesz. Myślisz, że nikt nie ujawnił niczego na temat twojej gównianej misji? — he continued, his voice breathless.

— Please, please…

Suddenly, you felt Toto's hand pull you by your hair, bringing your body against his. With your back against his chest, your sweat mixed with his, his breath hot against your skin. Bringing your hand to his head, you sank your fingers into his dark hair, trying to resist the instinct to continue seeking pleasure.

— What do you want? — he asked softly.

— I want to cum…

Toto slid his hand towards your neck, squeezing it lightly.

— Do you think you deserve to cum after your little show?

— Please, Toto — you whimpered.

— I could hear you moaning like that all night long — he said, giving a thrust that made a loud moan escape your throat — Desperate to cum on my cock, make the same mess you made in my pants...

Suddenly, something clicked in your mind.

— Sorry, please, I'm sorry — you stammered desperately.

However, Toto just laughed.

— You're truly unbelievable, Maria — he said, moving his free hand around your waist and bringing it to your clitoris.

With the double stimulation, it didn't take long for your muscles to tense, your apex getting closer and closer to you again. With your eyes filling with tears and your mouth letting out increasingly louder moans, your legs shook, almost like a silent announcement of what was to come.

— That's it, come for me, skarbie — Toto whispered, accelerating the movement of his fingers against your pussy, making you finally cross the line that separated agony from explosion.

— Toto — you moaned loudly, before collapsing forward, panting and shaking. Behind you, he tried to prolong your sensation as long as possible while searching for his own orgasm, which didn't take long to arrive.

— Fuck — he growled, as he spilled himself inside you, his hands squeezing your hips so hard that you were sure there would be marks on your skin the next morning. It wasn't like you cared about them either. In truth, you didn't care about any mark that Toto left on you as long as it was accompanied by that mind-blowing pleasure that only he could give you.

You allowed yourself to collapse onto the bed after the wave of pleasure wore off, leaving only the aftershocks and your racing heart behind. The sensation had been so intense that you didn't even notice the moment Toto withdrew from inside you, not even when he left the room to get a damp towel to clean you.

— Lubię cię. Chyba nigdy nie lubiłem kogoś tak bardzo jak ciebie — Toto murmured, looking thoughtful as he wiped the inside of his thighs — Szkoda, że byliśmy skazani na porażkę, zanim jeszcze skrzyżowaliśmy nasze ścieżki w tej kawiarni. Byłabyś świetną panią Wolff.

The sound of the syllables was pleasant to your ears, especially combined with Toto's calm and particularly deep voice. However, in the post-orgasmic haze, you couldn't distinguish which language was full of short pauses and nasalized words.

— What language is that? — you asked softly.

Looking up at you, Toto gave a small smile.

— Polish. Do you know it? — he returned the question. Upon seeing your negative wave, he smiled — I imagined.

Getting up from the bed still naked, Toto returned to the bathroom in silence. Meanwhile, you used the last of your energy to crawl towards the pile of pillows that were leaning against the headboard. Pulling the duvet to cover yourself, you snuggled in, enjoying the way the scent of the owner of that bed was permeated into the fabrics.

And it was by breathing in the musky notes that you fell asleep, without even saying goodnight to your host.

The timid light that came through the window was what woke you up that morning. The room was quiet and the temperature under the covers was perfect. Part of you wanted to turn the other way and close your eyes again, enjoy that moment of peace and quiet. However, as you turned on the mattress, you found a beautiful reason to keep your eyes open.

Lying on his stomach, Toto slept peacefully. His expression was calm, as if he had been having a good dream, which wouldn't be surprising considering the night before. And it was with that memory that something inside your chest tightened, a familiar feeling washing over you.

Guilt.

That moment had been just an accident along the way, an oversight. You weren't there looking for fun, a break, or even someone special. You were there to find a piece of history that had been stolen by a dangerous man whose family was up to their necks in it, not to end up in the bed of a handsome stranger who was particularly good at sex.

Silently getting up, you walked to the suite's bathroom in slow steps. Upon meeting your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel scared at the way your mascara and eyeliner had run out of your eyes. “I look like a panda”, you thought to yourself, as you wet your hands and put some soap on your face.

More awake and with clear skin, you slowly returned to the room, thinking about what you could put on at that moment, considering that your dress was nowhere to be found and that you had, conveniently, left your panties at home. After a few seconds of contemplation, you picked up Toto's baby blue shirt that was crumpled on the floor and put it on, pulling the sleeves to give your hands more freedom. And then, more or less dressed, you left the room in slow, silent steps.

Walking around the apartment during the day was definitely different than when you did it at night. The light that came through the windows revealed modern and minimalist environments, with furniture with clean lines and decoration in shades of blue. However, your mental note about telling Toto about his passion for that color was completely discarded when you came across the last thing you expected to be hanging on a wall in that flat.

In a prominent position in the room, there was a large and sumptuous painting, clearly ancient due to the style of the brushstrokes and its golden frame, which divided it into three. In the center, Our Lady and baby Jesus were erected by Prince Casimir of Poland and Saint Hyacinth, surrounded by saints, kings, queens and important figures in Polish history. On the side panels, two archangels, Michael and Gabriel from what you had read.

You finally found what you were looking for.

And that was the worst thing that could have happened at that moment.

— Good morning — a voice made you jump, turning your face to the side. Standing at the entrance to the room, Toto looked at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes — Did you sleep well?

— Good morning — you murmured, feeling your throat tighten — Yeah, I slept well.

As he approached you, your mind tried to weave some story, something that would cover your shock at having found the triptych right there, in Toto's apartment. However, as soon as you felt his hands on your waist, as well as his body right behind yours, your heart started to beat faster, not because of his touch, but because of the tension that built up in your shoulders.

— See something interesting? — he asked, his hot breath against your ear making your skin crawl.

— Yeah, well, yes — you stammered — I hadn't noticed that painting yesterday.

Toto chuckled softly.

— Ah, yeah — he said, his thumb drawing circles on your waist — It's a triptych from the 19th century, painted by one of the great Polish masters, Jan Matejko.

You were frozen, staring at the illuminated brushstrokes that formed Our Lady's face. In your mind, it didn't make any sense for Toto to have that piece hanging on the wall in his apartment. Maybe he had bought it without knowing its origin or history, or he had received it as a gift, or…

— How…

— My grandfather had an antique shop and acquired this piece in the 1960s — Toto explained — He always loved Poland and leaving everything behind to save his own family was really difficult for him. I even think that's why he kept the triptych for himself instead of selling it, to have a little piece of the place he loved so much.

— An antique shop? — you stammered, as the dots connected in your mind. You knew that Czesław Bednarczyk had two daughters, but as far as your knowledge went, only the eldest was connected to the family business. There was no one with the last name Wolff in the intelligence documents that were in your apartment, you were sure.

— Yes, the antique dealer I took you to after breaking your ballerina is owned by my family. But you already knew that, didn't you… Maria?

You suddenly turned to him, shock frozen in his expression.

— Toto…

— Operation Królowa — he pronounced carefully, without taking his eyes off yours — Did you really think no one would know?

— That’s not —  you stammered.

— You do not know the people you have by your side, Y/N. There isn't a person within that agency who doesn't have a price. And it was worth every Euro...

You couldn't speak, you couldn't move. The shock was so great that you were practically frozen in place, eyes taking in Toto's smug smile.

— When I found out that Europol was going to send someone to Vienna to investigate, I kept everyone in the antique shop on notice. And it didn't take long for someone to alert me that there was a woman monitoring the movement from inside the Eskeles — he continued, in a calm tone — And so I went to check in person, but I didn't find anyone in the cafe. Until I tripped over you and broke your ballerina.

There was a lump in your throat, your stomach churning with each word.

— I didn't think you were my problem until you said you weren't from Vienna. And, if I may say so, your accent sounds nothing like someone from Graz — he murmured, bringing a hand to her face — But it's pretty. Definitely pretty.

The touch made you wake up from that cathartic state you were in.

And what happened next was a blur.

Pulling away the hand that was holding his face with your left arm, you hit Toto on the nose with your palm, making him take a step back. Next, you tried to kick him between the legs, but were caught by surprise when he defended himself from the blow with a hand placed close to his groin.

Contrary to what Toto wanted, you retracted your foot. And, with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you bolted towards the apartment's front door.

  — Come back here — he roared after you, his heavy footsteps mixing with the sound of your own pulse, which roared in your ears. You needed to get out of there, you needed to talk to your boss, you needed to say that you had found the triptych, you needed to reveal the truth about Toto Wolff to everyone.

However, you felt the ground beneath your feet slide. And suddenly everything went dark.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1961 Plymouth Fury convertible

The Plymouth Fury was an automobile made by the Plymouth division of the Chrysler Corporation from 1956 to 1978. Introduced as a premium-priced halo model (a production automobile designed to showcase the talents and resources of an automotive company, with the intent to draw consumers into their showrooms), the Fury was sold only as an off-white hardtop coupe with gold anodized aluminum trim in 1956, 1957 and 1958. A Fury convertible was first offered in 1960.

In 1959 Plymouth introduced the Sport Fury as its top model, and the Fury name was stepped down to replace the Plymouth Belvedere at the top of the regular Plymouth line-up. In doing so, the Fury range now contained sedans and station wagons as well as a hardtop coupe and sedan, while the Sport Fury series had only a 2-door hardtop and convertible. The Fury remained Plymouth’s sales volume model through the troubled early 1960s, when the full-sized Fury was saddled with odd styling and an intermediate (or mid-sized) platform.

The Sport Fury was dropped at the end of 1959, but was reintroduced in mid-1962. The 1962 to 1969 Sport Fury came as a hardtop coupe or convertible.

From 1965 to 1974, Plymouth sales owed a great deal to the Fury’s popularity. When Plymouth reintroduced a full-sized car in 1965, the Fury was available in four trim levels, dubbed Fury I, Fury II, Fury III and Sport Fury, which were priced to meet Chevrolet’s Biscayne, Bel Air, Impala and Impala SS models, body style for body style.

The Fury I was marketed to police and taxi fleets, or sold to private customers wanting a basic, no-frills full-sized car, while the Fury II and Fury III were the bread and butter lines. Many Sport Fury models (as well as Fury III models) came loaded with options such as automatic transmission, power steering, white sidewall tires (along with full wheel covers), stereo radios, vinyl tops and air conditioning.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter seven | midnight adventures.

masterlist

pairing : battinson!bruce wayne x fem!oc.

words : +9k

A/N : Don't know how to feel about this chapter, angst at the end— that seems to be Bruce and Maryam speciality lol

cw : Maryam being annoying but its ok she has her reasons lol, Bruce being a taxi driver at this point, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, depression, ptsd, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

previous chapter

THAT MAN had wrecked her day—not that it had started off great anyway.

But fuck him, all the same.

She couldn't understand why she felt even a flicker of empathy for someone who'd taken part in the slaughter of her people.

Whatever. Fuck him and everyone who backed those so-called "wars."

She went to the grocery store, reminding herself she actually needed real food instead of more takeout. It wasn't that she hated cooking or baking; she loved it, honestly. But lately, she couldn't find the comfort in it she once did.

Once she'd finished her quick run to the nearest market, she headed straight back to her apartment without a second to spare. She needed a nap, desperately. Four hours of sleep last night—especially a night spent as the Wraith—hadn't even come close to enough.

She walked slowly through the familiar streets, a bag of groceries in each hand, letting the sounds and scents of the neighborhood settle over her like an old, worn coat. Children's laughter echoed down the alley, and mothers leaned over balconies, chatting as they clipped laundry to drying lines. The air was thick with a blend of fresh bread and something sharper—weed, most likely. Odd, yet somehow comforting; in Gotham, this strange mix was almost homey.

Near the stairs of her building, a group of teenagers lounged, passing a vape between them. They looked up as she approached, and one of them—a lanky boy with a worn Gotham Knights basketball shirt and a red bandana tied around his head—raised a hand in greeting.

"Mornin', Doc!" he called out, a smirk playing on his face. "How's it goin'? Any luck findin' that psycho yet, or what?"

She adjusted the weight of her bags, returning the smile with a slight nod. "Not yet, Freddy," she replied, her tone casual but laced with the fatigue of long nights and endless files. "But soon, I hope."

"Better hurry up then—city's gettin' crazier every day," another boy chimed in, blowing a lazy ring of vape smoke into the crisp morning air.

She paused on the steps, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "And you all should be doing your homework instead of hanging around here like old men," she teased, her voice light but with a hint of a lecture.

They laughed, trading looks. Freddy shrugged, his grin widening. "What's the point, Doc? We're just gonna end up in some dead-end job anyway—just like everybody else around here." He made a sweeping gesture at the cracked sidewalks and peeling walls around them.

She raised a brow, lifting her chin with mock pride as she shifted the grocery bags. "Hey, I'm a doctor," she pointed out, nudging open the building's heavy door. "Not everybody's doomed."

Freddy laughed, waving her off. "Yeah, well, you don't count! You're, like, the exception around here." Another boy joined in, "Bet you were one of those kids who had their act together in, like, kindergarten."

She chuckled, pushing through the door. "Only sometimes. I didn't even speak English back then!" She held the door for a moment, looking back at them with a more serious expression. "But listen up, boys. School matters. Don't let it slip—you'll regret it."

They shifted a little, Freddy glancing down, scratching his neck. "Yeah... maybe."

She nodded, a small smile softening her tone. "And don't make me have to bail you out someday."

Their laughter trailed off, and for a moment, an unusual silence settled over the group. Freddy gave her a quick, sheepish nod, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, Doc. We hear ya."

With a final look, she let the door swing shut and stepped into the dim, familiar lobby. 

The scent of old wood, damp plaster, and faint traces of whatever the building's pipes had carried over the years wrapped around her like a worn-in blanket. She shifted her bags to one arm and fumbled for her keys, her gaze settling on the row of mailboxes near the stairs.

As she sorted through the usual mix of bills and coupons, her mind drifted to the boys outside. In some ways, they reminded her of her younger self—dreaming of escape, uncertain of what lay beyond, yet feeling the weight of the city pressing down on them. She couldn't help but hope that a few words here and there might nudge them in the right direction.

Then, amidst the mundane stack of letters, her fingers brushed against something different—a red envelope. 

Her heart raced as she pulled it out, feeling a flutter of anticipation. It had been a while since she'd received anything from them. 

The doctor turned the envelope over and noted the wax seal, stamped with an emblem of two golden eagles, an "R" nestled between them, crowned in regal splendor. She traced the seal with her thumb, curiosity piquing her thoughts. 

What could they possibly want?

Unable to contain her impatience, she grabbed her key and carefully opened the envelope. 

As she did, a rich, familiar scent wafted out—roses, sweet and inviting. It was the scent of her madraya, ummi, mama—whatever name she had called her. That fragrance had always felt so precise, so unmistakable, like a whisper of love lingering in the air.

The scent enveloped her in warmth and nostalgia, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket on a chilly night. She brought the paper close to her nose, inhaling deeply, and was instantly transported back to moments long forgotten, bittersweet and tender. 

But the scent of those roses was also poison to her already shattered and fragile heart, stirring feelings of love, tragedy, and unbearable loss. It whispered to her of all that had slipped through her fingers—moments, memories, and people—leaving only echoes behind, haunting reminders of what once was.

With trembling fingers, she opened the thick, luxurious stationery, her heart pounding in her chest as the elegant, unmistakably Russian handwriting greeted her. 

        Moya dorogaya Maryam,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been far too long since we last exchanged words. For us, life continues as it always has, marked by the relentless rhythm of the seasons. The weather in Norfolk is, as usual, dull and gray, though I find it perfect for hunting.

Genevieve sends her warmest regards. She is beside me as I write, and she insists on saying hello to you, your siblings, and your dear aunts. You would be pleased to know that she's taken up gardening with a fervor, filling our home with blooms that remind us of you.

And then there's my son, Nikolai. You must have heard enough about him over the years, yet he's still full of surprises. He now resides in London with his wife, Elizaveta. The city feels far too chaotic and sprawling for my liking, but I suppose it keeps life interesting. Elizaveta is a force to be reckoned with, keeping Nikolai on his toes—she's a saint in that regard. You know how she is, always bustling about, ensuring everything is in order. She reminds me so much of you in that way, always juggling a million things at once.

But the reason I pen this letter today is to share wonderful news about my darling Annabelle. We are delighted to invite you and your family to her wedding, which will be held at the manor next summer. It promises to be an extravagant affair, filled with laughter and cherished memories.

I look forward to seeing you and your sisters there, my dear Maryam.

The letter was signed simply, A. Petrovich.

Uncle Andrei.

Maryam's chest tightened, a bittersweet mix of warmth and unease curling in her gut. It had been years—so many years that she could barely remember his face. She could still imagine her aunts and sisters gathering around once they heard, their voices dropping into whispers, each taking turns to inspect the red envelope. A letter from Andrei was like a rare comet passing through their lives, with everyone silently guessing what it meant.

Just as Maryam let out a breath, a hand clapped down on her shoulder, and she jolted, almost dropping the letter.

Standing there was Vera, her freckled face alight with a broad grin and her curls bouncing wildly. Vera��Vanessa to some, but always Vera to herself—was her vivacious neighbor, the type to walk into a conversation as easily as she walked into a room.

"Maryam!" Vera practically sang, her eyes immediately zoning in on the letter. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's the big secret, huh?"

Maryam gave a small, surprised laugh, forcing herself to keep her tone casual as she held the letter close to her chest. "It's... just a family letter," she replied.

"A family letter?" Vera's brows shot up, intrigued. She was practically craning her neck, unabashedly curious as she leaned in a little closer.

Maryam angled herself away instinctively, but Vera didn't miss a beat, lighting up with a new story. "Family's always so fun, don't you think? I had a cousin once—my mom's nephew, you know him, he always thought he'd marry this princess. Real princess, too, he'd tell everyone. Had the ring and all!" She chuckled, completely unfazed by her cousin's delusion. "Of course, that fell through. But he still brags about the ring. A little embarrassing, if you ask me."

Maryam chuckled, keeping her voice light. "Well, it's not that dramatic," she admitted, though she could feel the weight of her own family's secrets pulsing with quiet insistence under her hand. "Though... it does involve a wedding, actually."

Vera's face lit up with glee. "A wedding? That's serious business! Weddings have drama built in. Who's getting married? You have to tell me."

Maryam shrugged, feigning nonchalance as she folded the letter back up and slipped it into one of her grocery bags. "A cousin. It's all up in the air still, but you know how families get." She smiled, though her mind was already drifting back to her apartment, the quiet afternoon she had been dreaming of all day. But Vera wasn't one to let go easily.

As the doctor reached for her mailbox keys and snapped the small container shut, Vera stepped back, only to launch into her next request with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Hey, actually, speaking of tonight... I was thinking—well, my sister was thinking—you might want to come with us to the Iceberg Lounge?" She gave Maryam a hopeful, wide-eyed look.

Maryam stared, momentarily taken aback. The Iceberg Lounge? Again? She'd been there just last night, and Vera's sister wanted to go there on a date? The Lounge wasn't exactly a place for innocent fun—it was infamous for shady deals, underworld connections, and the kind of crowd that fed on Gotham's darkness.

"Me?" she blinked, genuine surprise flashing across her sharp features. "To the Lounge? Tonight?" Her instinct was to turn her down politely—she had her grocery bags, her cozy plans to nap, and now a letter that raised more questions than answers. 

The thought of squeezing into a dress, surrounded by the smell of cigars and overpriced drinks, made her stomach churn.

"Yes, you," Vera replied with a knowing look, as if she could sense her hesitation. "You're always so busy, Maryam! You need a night out. My sister's got a new boyfriend, and he's got us a VIP section. Don't you ever get tired of being all... mysterious?"

"Mysterious?" Maryam gave a wry laugh, arching a perfectly structured brow. "I'm a medical examiner, Vera, not a spy."

Vera rolled her eyes but grinned. "You say that, but I'm convinced you're hiding something." Then, softening, she added with a pleading look, "It's just... you're always in your own world, always busy with work, doing important things, and I thought, for once, you could just be a regular person with me. At a nice, safe VIP table."

VIP? Maryam almost laughed. 

The Lounge was no mystery to her—she'd spent enough nights there in the shadows, moving unseen as the Wraith, blending into the dark corners to extract secrets from the very people seated in those VIP sections. The irony of going as herself, with Vera, was surreal.

And she certainly wasn't thrilled about heading back to the Lounge so soon after last night's mission, but maybe a little distraction wouldn't be the worst thing...

Still, Maryam couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more complicated than Vera had planned. The Iceberg Lounge wasn't just any club—it was Gotham's underworld neatly packaged in a glamorous façade.

The shimmering lights, the velvet ropes, the thumping music—it all concealed the dangerous undercurrents that ran deep through the city's criminal heart. And after the chaos she'd dealt with as The Wraith, the last thing she needed was to wade back into that world, even if it was just for one night of "fun."

She much preferred the quiet safety of her apartment, the warmth of her cozy little space where she could shut out the noise of the city. A night in with a simple meal, maybe scrolling through her phone, or watching a nice movie sounded like heaven compared to the tension brewing inside her now.

The solitude was soothing, it was a stark contrast to the life she led outside those walls. 

No masks, no knives, no lies—just her.

Besides, the letter loomed in her mind, dredging up thoughts of family and old memories. She opened her mouth to turn Vera down when, with a dramatic sigh, Vera caught her hand and gave her best pleading look.

"Please, Maryam? I'll owe you forever. And you know I'm good for it. Anything you need."

Maryam sighed, her resistance slipping away, worn down by Vera's relentless enthusiasm. "Alright, alright, fine." She felt her shoulders relax, accepting the inevitable. "But just this once, okay?"

Vera squealed, throwing her arms around her in a hug so tight it almost lifted Maryam off her feet. "Oh, thank you, thank you! You have no idea, I'll never forget this!"

Maryam laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. But don't make a habit out of this, okay?" She gently disentangled herself from Vera's arms and shifted the grocery bags in her hands.

Vera released her with a beaming smile. "I swear, I won't! I'll knock on your door at nine, is that good?"

"Sure. That's good," Maryam replied, already mentally planning for the evening ahead.

With a final wave, Vera darted up the stairs, leaving Maryam to climb the narrow staircase alone, her footsteps echoing against the creaks and groans of the old building.

She reached her floor, hearing the muted sound of a TV playing somewhere down the hall and catching a faint whiff of someone's dinner cooking.

At her door, she fished out her keys, balancing the grocery bags in one arm as she struggled with the lock, which stuck like usual. She gave it a firm twist, and the door finally gave way with a soft bang, revealing her small, cluttered sanctuary.

She stepped inside and set her bags on the counter, letting out a long breath. Books and vinyl records were stacked in organized chaos, and a few plants perched on the windowsill looked as though they might have survived another week. Her cozy space, with its patchwork of comforting clutter, embraced her like an old friend.

Unpacking the groceries, she glanced out the window at the city below, stretching into the distance with its endless hum and flickering lights. There was something oddly comforting about its restless energy, a steady rhythm that matched the beat of her own mind.

And then her gaze drifted back to the bag on the counter—the letter, sitting there like an unanswered question, waiting for her to make sense of it. She stared at it for a long moment, as if something in its ink and paper might unlock memories she'd long since buried. Perhaps she hoped for a sign, some small word of warmth or recognition from the past. But the edges of the envelope remained silent and indifferent, like a distant relative with too many years between them.

Family. 

It could be a beautiful word, or it could be a curse and a mystery, veiled in secrets and memories that faded with time.

But for now, all she could do was grab a quick shower, take a small nap, and get ready. Whatever was waiting at the Lounge, she'd deal with it.

Just like she always did.

Cocktail dresses were not her forte.

Maryam stood in front of her open wardrobe, arms crossed, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she surveyed the options before her.

A frown creased her perfectly shaped brow.

Most of the outfits hanging neatly in her closet were better suited for formal events or professional settings. 

Nothing here screamed "night out at a club." She flicked through the hangers impatiently, pushing aside blouses, blazers, scrubs, and slacks that felt too restrained for the evening ahead.

Her bronze, sun-kissed skin seemed to glow in the dim light of her room, reflecting softly off the wardrobe mirror. It was a striking contrast to her usual dark attire.

With her athletic frame and graceful curves—sculpted by years of stealth training and night pursuits—she could make almost anything look good. But tonight, her frustration wasn't just about finding the right dress. It was about stepping out of her comfort zone, something she rarely allowed herself to do.

She huffed in exasperation, ready to give up, when something caught her eye—tucked away in the back, forgotten in the shuffle of daily life.

The doctor reached for it with a flicker of hope, pulling out a sleek black-and-gold cocktail dress she hadn't worn in years. She hadn't even remembered buying it, let alone why it had never seen the light of day.

The dress was perfect—elegant yet daring.

The bodice hugged her figure, the black fabric clinging to her like a second skin, with intricate, shimmering details tracing along the top like constellations scattered across a midnight sky. The skirt flared out slightly at the hips, a flirtatious golden shimmer running through the black fabric, the hem brushing just above her knees.

It was sexy, bold, and exactly the kind of confidence boost she needed for a night out.

She slipped it on, adjusting the straps until they rested perfectly against her shoulders. The fabric felt cool against her skin, accentuating every curve in just the right way. She turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress shimmered with every movement. It wasn't her usual style, but tonight she felt like embracing something different.

Satisfied with the dress, Maryam turned her attention to shoes. She owned only two pairs of heels—one for formal events and another for fun nights like this. She reached for the latter: black, strappy stilettos with a sharp heel and minimalist design.

They elevated her already long legs, making her stride look even more graceful. Sliding into them, she felt a surge of confidence wash over her.

Next came her hair and makeup.

Maryam stood in front of her bathroom mirror, a determined look in her eyes. Her naturally curly hair framed her face in wild, untamed waves, but tonight she wanted something different. She straightened it, adding volume and shine, before parting it to the left, creating a sleek, glamorous look that softened her sharp features.

Her makeup followed the same bold theme—sharp winged eyeliner, golden-white shimmer dusted across her eyelids, highlighting her bronzed skin.

The shimmering tones made her hazel eyes gleam under the bathroom lights, giving her an almost otherworldly glow. She finished with a classic red lip, a beautiful contrast against her warm complexion.

It was dramatic, intense, and undeniably stunning.

As Maryam stepped back to survey herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman looking back.

There was something raw and striking in her reflection—a beauty she'd never felt in quite this way before.

It reminded her of the journey she'd traveled, from a girl who hid behind masks, blending into shadows, to this version of herself.

Tonight, she wasn't hiding.

Every inch of her was polished to perfection, radiating a confidence she wasn't used to wearing.

A sharp knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Vera.

Maryam took a deep breath, shaking off any lingering hesitation.

She'd committed to this night out, and for once, she intended to see it through. Opening the small black clutch on her vanity, she checked her essentials one last time: phone, keys, cigarettes, lighter, and—of course—her knives, hidden but always close.

She gave herself one final glance in the mirror before reaching for her black fur coat.

The soft fabric enveloped her in luxurious warmth, draping over her shoulders like a second skin. A few spritzes of her favorite perfume completed the transformation.

She was finally ready.

Another knock sounded, this time with an edge of impatience. "I'm coming!" Maryam called, voice laced with playful annoyance.

When she opened the door, Vera's jaw dropped in mock amazement. "Goddamn, Mar," she said, voice dripping with admiration. "You outdid yourself tonight. You look hot as hell, bitch."

Maryam smirked, rolling her eyes. "Shut up," she replied, though a small smile hinted at her amusement.

"Girl, please," Vera laughed, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. "You know you do."

Vanessa looked stunning herself. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and her smoky eye makeup made her doe eyes pop under the hallway's dim light. The glossy pink of her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she adjusted the hem of her flirty pink dress.

Together, they headed down the stairs, the steady clack of their heels echoing through the stairwell. In the lobby, they were greeted by the raspy voice of Gary, the elderly doorman who was practically a fixture in the building. Perched in his beat-up plastic chair with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he was Gotham's unofficial neighborhood watch, offering his unsolicited judgments on all who passed by.

As Maryam approached, his eyes widened in a rare show of interest. "Well, what a fucking doll you are tonight," he whistled, his gravelly voice almost amused.

Maryam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gary's crudeness was as predictable as his smoking habit, yet tonight his offhand compliment was oddly amusing. Maybe it was the dress, or maybe it was the thrill of being noticed.

"Thanks, Gary," she replied smoothly, brushing past him and leaving him to his cloud of smoke and judgments.

Vera received her own whistle from Gary as she passed, and the girls shared a knowing glance, shaking their heads with small, amused smiles.

Once settled in the plush seat of Vera's car, Maryam closed the door with a soft click behind her. Inside, the warmth of the car cocooned her, a comforting contrast to the night air outside. The low hum of the engine buzzed beneath her, a subtle reminder that the night had only just begun.

As they sped down the street, Maryam adjusted her fur coat, savoring its luxurious softness as it settled over her shoulders.

Underneath, she could feel the familiar weight of her concealed knives—a constant reminder of the life she balanced, between shadows and moments of normalcy like this. No matter how glamorous the night, she never left without them.

Vera glanced over, her approving smirk still firmly in place. "You really clean up nice, you know that? It's a shame you don't go out more often. You could have half the city eating out of your hand if you wanted."

Maryam chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Not really my style, and you know it."

Vera sighed dramatically, keeping one hand on the wheel as she merged onto the main road. "Yeah, yeah. But once in a while, it's good to let loose. You need it more than anyone I know."

Maryam didn't argue. Vera had a point. Between her demanding job as a medical examiner and her life as The Wraith, nights like this were rare. These were the moments when she could set everything aside, even if just for a few hours—pretend to be someone else, someone who didn't carry the weight of secrets and shadows.

The city lights blurred together outside her window, the familiar skyline casting Gotham's silhouette against the inky night. She stared out for a moment, lost in thought, until a question suddenly popped into her head. "Wait, are your sister and her boyfriend not joining us?"

"Oh, they're already there, waiting for us at the lounge," Vera replied, a mischievous grin creeping onto her lips. "Alessandro—my sister's boyfriend—he's the one who pulled some strings. Got us a VIP table and everything!" She wiggled her eyebrows, barely containing her excitement.

Maryam's stomach tightened. Alessandro. She had a sinking feeling about this.

"Please don't tell me it's... that underground club," she muttered, hoping her guess was wrong.

The club within the club, a hidden world where Gotham's elite gathered in secrecy. She knew it well—not as Maryam, but as The Wraith. Just last night, she'd prowled those rooms, cloaked in darkness, gathering intel. Tonight? Tonight, she was bare, unarmed in more ways than one.

Vera, oblivious to Maryam's inner turmoil, shrugged with an innocent smile. "What? I mean, I wouldn't really know. I just know it's fancy." She smirked, eyes gleaming.

Maryam let out a small, forced laugh. "Fancy, huh?"

Her grip tightened on her clutch, knuckles whitening. She knew Vera meant well, but she didn't understand. Gotham's elite didn't play by the same rules. And here, where secrets were currency, and favors held more value than gold, the stakes were high.

Even now, beneath her glamorous exterior, she felt the weight of her hidden knives pressing against her skin, a reminder that she could never fully let her guard down. Not here.

Vera chatted away as they approached the club, her excitement palpable. "So, his name's Alessandro, but before you say anything, I know he's... well, shady." She added quickly, "But my sister likes him. It's only been a week, so it's not serious."

Maryam sighed. "Italian charmers. Always the same," she muttered with a smirk.

"They're not all bad," Vera replied defensively, though she shot Maryam a knowing smile. "Look, I know you have your... concerns. But tonight, I just want you to have fun. We'll stay as long as you're comfortable, and if you need an out, just say the word."

"Thank you," Maryam murmured, squeezing her friend's shoulder. Then, in a lighter tone, she added, "Just... don't lose me in there, okay?"

They pulled up to the Iceberg Lounge, where the crowd buzzed with energy, eager to dive into Gotham's nightlife. Vera led the way, navigating through the throngs with practiced ease, flashing a confident smile as they sidestepped the velvet ropes.

But then she saw them.

The Twins—Boris and Maksim, towering sentinels of the Lounge.

Maryam's stomach twisted at the sight of them. Known for their brutal efficiency, they were gatekeepers of Gotham's underworld, faces cold and calculating. She often referred to them as the Evil Twins, a joke that hid the truth. They knew her as The Wraith, but as Maryam, she was just another face.

The weight of their scrutiny pressed down on her, quickening her pulse. She forced herself to breathe steadily, feeling the cold steel of her knives, their presence reassuring in the midst of this familiar, dangerous world.

"Relax," Vera whispered, catching the tension in her friend's jaw as they neared the entrance. "It's just a night out. No one's gonna bother you here."

Maryam forced a tight smile. "Yeah," she murmured, exhaling slowly. "Just a night out."

 As they stepped into the underground club, the deep, rhythmic pulse of music filled the air, vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. 

It was the same as she stepped as the wraith the other night, the lights inside were dim, casting a moody glow over the lavish interior of the Iceberg Lounge. 

Everything felt luxurious and dangerous at the same time—Gotham's elite brushed shoulders with the shadows, a mix of power and menace lingering in every corner.

Maryam let her eyes adjust to the low light, clutching her fur, taking in the sprawling dance floor and the glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. 

The bar was packed, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and alcohol. She felt Vera grab her arm, pulling her closer as they navigated through the crowd.

"See? Not so bad," Vanessa said, her voice just audible over the pounding bass. "Just some little fun."

Maryam forced a smile, nodding, but her eyes were scanning the room. 

Even if she wasn't The Wraith tonight, her instincts were hard to turn off. Every flicker of movement caught her attention, every unfamiliar face was logged in her mind. Old habits. She had worked too long in Gotham's underbelly to let her guard down.

They made their way up the stairs to the VIP section, a private area where Vera's sister and her boyfriend were waiting. The music quieted slightly as they reached the upper level, the noise of the main club below muffled by thick glass windows. 

Alessandro stood as they approached, his charming smile disarming yet slightly unsettling. He was tall and impeccably dressed, exuding a confidence that whispered of wealth and power. Maryam returned his smile with a polite nod, but an instinctive shiver ran down her spine. There was something about him—a magnetic charm that felt dangerously close to predatory.

"Hey, guys!" Vera called out, her voice bright with excitement as she spotted the couple lounging on the plush, red cushions.

"Look who finally decided to join the living," Alessandro teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, wavering somewhere between playful and condescending. Vera's excitement was evident in the way she beamed at him, but Maryam felt a gnawing apprehension in her stomach.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies," he added, his voice smooth as the whiskey he was swirling in his glass.

Constance—Connie—Vera's older sister, gave him a sharp glance, her protective instincts flaring for a moment before she took control of the situation. "Alessandro, play nice. This is their first night out in ages. Well, for Maryam at least," she smirked, casting a look at her sister.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Vera replied, putting on an exaggeratedly offended look.

Maryam carefully settled into the cushioned seat, her body tense, her legs crossed tightly. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the mounting anxiety that threatened to engulf her.

Meanwhile, Maryam eased herself down into the seat, carefully, as if a single wrong move would shatter her poise. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the creeping anxiety gnawing at her. Her legs crossed tightly, her posture conveying both elegance and guardedness.

Alessandro raised his glass, glancing over with a lazy smirk. "Relax, everyone. It's just a night out," he said, his voice light, though his gaze was anything but. Despite the casual words, something in his tone hinted at layers that went deeper than his outward charm.

Vera gave a bright smile and introduced the couple. "This is my sister, Connie, and her boyfriend, Alex," she said, dropping her clutch on the table with a little flourish. "I'll grab us some drinks—be right back."

Maryam narrowed her hazel eyes, a flicker of discomfort rippling through her. Why had she left her alone with strangers?

Connie, who had been quietly observing Maryam, spoke up over the thumping bass of the music. "So you're a medical examiner?"

Maryam tried to play it cool, though unease curled in her stomach like a snake. "Yes," she replied, offering a small smile that felt more like a mask than genuine warmth.

"By the way, I love your dress and makeup!" Connie exclaimed, her tone warm and genuine, her eyes lighting up as she admired Maryam's outfit. "You look absolutely stunning!"

Maryam had put effort into her appearance tonight, hoping it would boost her confidence, though the tension knotting her stomach threatened to dampen her excitement.

"Thanks," Maryam replied, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks at the compliment. "You look amazing too! That blue is perfect on you!"

Constance only smiled and flocked her hair behind her shoulder.

Alessandro leaned back, loosening the buttons of his shirt, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't want a drink?"

"Hm, I actually don't drink. I just came here with Vera to keep her company." 

"That's sweet of you," Connie remarked, fidgeting with her nails as if they were a distraction from the atmosphere. "If you ever want to leave, don't hesitate."

Why did they keep repeating that?

"Yeah, Vanessa told me. But I don't really want to leave her alone."

"She's safe with me, don't worry," Connie tried to reassured her.

Maryam only nodded, the awkward silence settling over them like a heavy blanket. She could feel their eyes on her, studying her, dissecting her with their gaze. She pretended to observe the club around them, feigning disinterest, but her mind was racing. 

Her eyes flicked toward groups of people huddled at tables, the glow of the lights revealing a few familiar faces—Gil Couson, the District Attorney. It wasn't surprising; she'd seen plenty of DA's and GCPD officials frequent this place when she operated as The Wraith.

When she looked back at her table, she found Alessandro and Connie already watching her, their expressions unreadable. Clearing her throat to break the tension, Maryam attempted to steer the conversation. "So, what do you guys do for a living?"

"Well, I work in a bank, assistant." Connies says, taking a sip from the martini that had just been set on the table.

"Oh yeah, Vera mentioned it," Maryam replied, forcing a light tone. "And you?" She directed her question toward Alessandro, her curiosity piqued despite herself, even if she already had an inkling of who he really was.

"Business," he answered simply, his gaze unwavering, a slight edge to his voice that made Maryam's heart race.

She nodded, the conversation dwindling into an uncomfortable silence. Vera still hadn't returned, and the weight of the atmosphere pressed down on her.

Just then, a group of men entered the table, speaking rapid-fire Italian, their presence commanding and decidedly more dangerous. One of them shot Maryam a wink as they settled in, launching into a hushed conversation that felt too secretive, too conspiratorial. 

Sensing the tension, she leaned closer to Connie. "I'm going to grab some water."

Connie only nodded, still sipping on her martini.

Maryam stood and made her way toward the bar, navigating through the throngs of people, each lost in their own world of revelry and distraction. 

As she walked, she collided with a woman sporting a striking red wig. "Oh shit—I'm so sorry!" Maryam blurted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stepped back.

"No, it's me," the woman replied, thena furrow of confusion knitting her brows as she studied Maryam.

Maryam offered an awkward smile, the unease creeping back into her veins as she continued toward the bar, the vibrant chaos of the club swirling around her. 

She felt like an outsider, a ghost among the living, and as she reached for a glass of water, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched—by both friends and foes alike.

The doctor took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she finally reached the bar. The pulsating beat of the club made her head throb faintly, and she felt the weight of dozens of eyes on her. But maybe it was just her own nerves amplifying everything. She focused on the bartender, who was busy sliding colorful cocktails across the counter to eager hands.

"Just water, please," she said, her voice barely carrying above the music. The bartender nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly before he turned to get her drink.

As she waited, Maryam forced herself to take in the room, hoping it might somehow ease the chill that crept up her spine.

But her gaze snagged on a familiar face: the red-haired woman sitting with none other than Gotham’s district attorney, Gil Coulson.

Married, with kids, yet here he was, leaning in close, as if he had no reputation to keep up—or maybe just didn’t care anymore.

She almost laughed at the irony.

Of course Coulson would show up somewhere like this, where drops flowed and morals faded.

Then her eyes drifted back to Alessandro.

He sat surrounded by his group, that same unreadable expression fixed on her. Even when he rose to speak to someone across the room, his gaze didn’t waver, didn’t stray from her for an instant, as though he were studying her, waiting.

She looked away, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to steady her breath, to shake off the feeling that she’d made a grave mistake.

She shouldn’t have come here, not tonight, not so exposed, not with eyes watching her from every corner.

“First time out in a while?” The bartender’s voice pulled her back to the present as he handed her the glass of water.

She managed a small smile. “That obvious?”

He shrugged with a sympathetic smile of his own. “Just a guess.”

A low, gravelly voice cut in, intruding on the exchange. “Rough night, huh?”

She turned, immediately regretting it.

Leaning casually beside her was a man with dark eyes and a teasing smirk, a jagged scar cutting across his brow.

Matteo—Vittorio's bodyguard.

Shit. How was he still standing after the beating she'd given him yesterday? Her gaze dropped to his leg, where a cane was propped against him. Well, maybe not entirely.

He held a cocktail, studying her like she was prey he’d patiently been waiting to pounce on. She kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him even a hint of reaction.

“Something like that,” she replied, voice steady but gaze guarded. Small talk wasn’t on her agenda, especially not here, and especially not with someone like him.

Matteo let out a rough chuckle, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Well, don’t let the night swallow you up, ghost girl.”

The nickname struck her like a strange jolt, stirring something cold and uneasy in her gut, but she masked it with a polite, dismissive smile.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” she said coolly, turning back to her drink, hoping that was the end of it.

Matteo lingered just a second longer, his gaze trailing over her like he had every right.

But then, as if summoned, he turned abruptly toward a group across the room—one that included Alessandro. Her stomach tightened. 

Of course. 

So her suspicions were right; Alessandro was working with the Falcones.

She watched him slip through the crowd, blending in with the familiar ease of someone who’d spent too long in the shadows.

The unease she’d felt before coiled tighter, sharper, her pulse hammering.

There was no coincidence here, not with the way Alessandro caught her eye, his lips quirking in a faint, knowing smirk.

It wasn’t just some off-chance meeting.

They were watching her—had been all night, it seemed.

A chill crept through her, settling in her bones like ice. She’d been careful, blending into the crowd, slipping through unnoticed—or so she’d thought.

But every look, every sideways glance she hadn’t caught, now felt like an unseen thread tightening around her.

Her grip on the glass tightened, the cold condensation seeping into her skin. She felt exposed, out of place, like prey unknowingly lured into a trap. 

She had to keep control, play her part, if only until she could slip away unnoticed.

But she needed to go. Now.

Maryam casually placed her glass on the bar, hoping her fingers weren’t visibly trembling.

With a practiced smile, she nodded at the bartender, as if all was well, as if the weight of prying eyes didn’t press down on her shoulders.

When she finally left the bar, the medical examiner wove her way back toward their table.

Her eyes scanned the dim, crowded space until they landed on Alessandro, still watching her with a lazy smirk, his gaze assessing, as if he'd caught every detail of her evening.

The doctor fought the urge to roll her eyes, sighing inwardly as she continued walking. Her fur coat felt weightier now, almost like armor against the scrutiny of the room.

Back at their table, she found Connie sitting alone, a bit annoyed but glued to her phone. "Hey," Maryam said softly, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Hey," Connie murmured, barely looking up before flicking her eyes back to the screen. The flashing lights cast a colorful glow on her face as she scrolled.

Maryam hesitated. "I haven't found Vera anywhere, and... I'm exhausted. Tomorrow's kind of a big day for me. I think I'm gonna head out."

Connie's gaze remained fixated on her phone. "Yeah, sure. Go home if you want. Not like you have to stay just because Vera's here," she replied dismissively, her fingers continuing to tap rapidly on the screen.

"You sure? I don't mind sticking around a bit longer. I just don't want to leave Vera stranded."

Connie finally glanced up, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. "Look, Maryam. It’s ok, go. She's fine. She'll go home with me when we're done here. Just don't worry about it." She gestured vaguely to the edge of the dance floor, where Vera stood close to a tall guy with tousled hair, laughing as he leaned down to say something in her ear. "See? She's busy."

Maryam smiled faintly. "Alright, if you're sure. I don't want to be rude."

Connie sighed, rolling her eyes as she returned to her phone. "Honestly, it's better for you. This place isn't really your scene anyway. You'll be bored out of your mind."

"Guilty," Maryam falsely admitted, forcing herself. "It's just... not really my thing. I've got a long day tomorrow too."

"Right, the mayor's funeral." Connie didn't look up, still focused on her screen. "You should definitely go home then."

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate it." Maryam gathered her things, glancing once more at the buzzing club before standing up. She offered Connie a warm smile. "Thanks for having me. I hope you two have fun."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Connie barely looked up from her phone, her tone dismissive as she continued scrolling. "Safe travels! Just text Vera if you need her."

Maryam could sense the irritation radiating from her. With a grateful nod, she turned and made her way toward the exit.

As she slipped through the crowd, she pulled out her phone, shooting Vera a quick text to check in: 

Heading home. Hope you're having fun. Stay safe !! <3.

With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of the club and into the cold night air. 

Lighting a cigarette, she took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, and began to walk down the street in search of a cab.

The click-clack of her high heels echoed against the pavement, each step a reminder of how out of place she felt.

Clutching her fur coat tighter around her shoulders, she let her thoughts drift, allowing the city's vibrant nightlife to fade into the background.

Suddenly, without warning, a gloved hand gripped her arm and yanked her into a dark alley.

Panic surged through her as she yelled, the sound swallowed by the night, but before she could draw a breath or take one of her hidden knives, a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.

“What the hell?!” she muttered against his hand, her voice muffled but furious. Without a second thought, she bit down hard, forcing him to pull his gloved hand back. Taking advantage of the moment, she shoved against his solid chest, trying to free herself from his grip.

"What were you doing in the 44 Below?" he only replied, his voice low and gravelly, darkened eyes with charcoal around it narrowing as he studied her, assessing the confusion etched on her face. 

"Are you stalking me, you fucking creep?" she shot back, her heart racing.

She fought to regain her composure, her breath coming in shaky gasps, visible in the frigid air around them. With a quick movement, she pushed the stray strands of hair away from her mouth and eyes, trying to clear her vision and steady herself.

"I saw you there," he said simply, his mask obscuring most of his face.

"How?" she demanded, her tone sharp, but he ignored her question, his gaze unwavering.

"What were you doing there, Maryam? Are you tangled up with Carmine Falcone's corrupt bunch?" His words were sharp, each one dripping with suspicion as he stepped closer, invading her personal space.

Instead of answering, she lashed out, slapping him hard across the cheek. The sound echoed in the quiet alley, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, turning his head slightly as if her strike had genuinely stung.

"Fuck you. No, I was here because a friend invited me! I didn’t even know we were going down there!" she snapped, her anger simmering just below the surface. "I didn’t stay long, anyway."

Turning on her heel, she started to head back toward the street, desperate to escape the confrontation.

But as she did, her ankle twisted awkwardly, sending her crashing to her knees on the unforgiving pavement. A sharp wince escaped her lips as pain shot through her. What a stupid move, Maryam. Bravo. The bitter thought lingered in her mind.

He was at her side in an instant, concern etched into his masked features.

"Leave me alone," she muttered, trying to wave him off, but he shook his head, his voice firm. "You need to sit still."

"I can and I will, Zorro." she insisted, her pride flaring. 

But he didn't listen. 

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, her surprise morphing into indignation as she yelped. "What the hell are you doing? Oh my god--"

"You can't walk like that," he reiterated, his tone brokering no argument.

"I can manage!" she protested, but her struggles were futile against his strength. 

He carried her with no problem as if she weighted nothing, toward a mid-engined muscle car, sleek black and big car parked nearby, opening the door to the passenger seat.

"Hey—" she began to protest, but he cut her off, locking the door with a swift click before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, a hint of panic threading through her voice.

"Your apartment," he replied, the engine roaring to life as he pulled away from the curb.

Maryam stared at him, a mix of anger and bewilderment coursing through her. She had never asked for this—for him to step in as her protector.

Her gaze drifted over the car's interior, buttons gleaming everywhere, with only two seats and a large motor behind them.

It looked as if he had built it himself.

Absentmindedly, she reached out to touch one of the buttons, intrigued by the craftsmanship.

"You shouldn't touch that," he warned, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Sorry," she murmured, quickly retracting her hand and crossing her arms, pulling her fur coat tighter as she turned to stare out the window.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the steady hum of the engine and the faint squeak of his leather gloves on the wheel. 

When she glanced at the vigilante, his jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet hers—as if he was deliberately avoiding her. 

She furrowed her brows, puzzled by his cold distance. 

Who was she kidding? They barely knew each other; of course he would act like that. The way he kept his emotions under wraps, as if they were a dangerous secret

He didn’t respond, just continued to drive with that inscrutable expression.

It infuriated her further to no end.

Did he think she was weak? Did he believe she couldn’t handle herself?

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

"So this is how it's going to be?" she finally asked, her voice low but edged with annoyance. "You play the hero, drag me into this mess, and now you're just going to ignore me?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The city lights flickered across his face, casting sharp shadows that only made him more unreadable.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. "I didn't drag you into anything," his tone was controlled, but there was something darker beneath it. "You were already in it. I'm just making sure you stay alive."

Maryam scoffed, shaking her head. "I never asked for your help. I don't even know you. You're the one who keeps showing up out of nowhere," she said, her hands gesturing animatedly as she threw him a sharp glare.

She cursed under her breath in Arabic. "I can handle myself just fine."

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife. Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the tension in his sharp jaw making every muscle stand out. 

Maryam's eyes flickered to the small cut on his face—her cut, the one she'd given him without realizing the night The Wraith clashed with the Bat. His cheek was still red from where she'd slapped him earlier. 

Guilt tugged at her, but only for a moment. He had underestimated her, after all, and maybe this was his karma. The leather creaked under his hands as he snapped, "Handling yourself almost got you killed tonight."

His words hung heavy in the air as he glanced at her, his gaze hard as they stopped at a red light.

"Killed?" Maryam shot back, her voice rising in disbelief. "What are you even talking about? I was literally minding my own business, smoking a cigarette, and you dragged me into that alley! If anything, I should call the cops on you for kidnapping!" She jabbed her finger toward his face, anger sparking in her eyes, her pulse quickening with frustration.

He didn't flinch, but his gaze darkened. "It's Gotham. It's dangerous anytime, especially for a woman at night."

The words hit her harder than she expected. 

For a moment, the car was filled with nothing but silence, the engine's low hum the only sound between them. Maryam swallowed the knot in her throat, her chest tight. 

There was truth in his words, but the way he said it—like she was some helpless victim—ignited a fire in her. She wasn't just another woman in Gotham, and she sure as hell didn't need his protection.

But despite the anger simmering inside her, the weight of the night and his warnings pressed down on her like a cold, heavy blanket. 

She turned her gaze out the window, unwilling to let him see just how much his words had stung.

Because unfortunately, he was right.

"It's doctor to you," Maryam snapped back, her voice sharp. "And why do you care so much about what happens to me?"

He didn't respond immediately. 

The low hum of the engine filled the silence, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer at all. 

But then, in that deep, controlled voice of his, he said, "You're valuable."

Her stomach twisted. 

Valuable? That was it? 

That was his reason for constantly showing up? For interfering in her life? A mixture of hurt and anger rose in her chest, so intense it was almost frightening. He infuriated her in ways no one else ever had.

She stared at him, catching the familiar clench of his jaw. "Right," she said, trying to sound unaffected. "Lovely to hear," she added with a biting edge to her voice.

His gaze flickered, perhaps noticing her frustration, but he stayed silent, stoic as ever.

"That's all I am to you, then? Valuable?" she continued, her voice low but trembling with barely suppressed anger, she was mostly mumbling ti herself. "Some asset to be monitored, like a ticking bomb?"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the faintest shadow of tension across his face. "It's not that simple," he said, voice carefully controlled.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, folding her arms defiantly. "If you're going to keep manipulating and stalking me, at least be honest about it. Don't pretend this is for my sake."

"I'm not here to manipulate you," he shot back, his tone sharp and cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Then what are you here for?" she challenged, fully aware she was being infuriating, but it felt like a necessary pushback. "Because from where I'm sitting, all you've done is make my life infinitely more complicated." She laughed bitterly, the sound laced with frustration. "Do you think I wanted any of this? You just show up, decide what's best for me, and vanish like—like I'm supposed to be grateful!"

His gaze stayed steady, unwavering, the shadows in the alley accentuating the angles of his face. "You're not just in danger, Maryam. You are the danger. To yourself, to others. If you get caught up in this without knowing what you're dealing with, you'll be—"

"Collateral damage?" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Another loose end for you to tie up? Don't you dare stand there and pretend this is just about keeping me safe."

She jabbed a sharp finger toward him, her frustration palpable. "You just don't want anyone interfering with your plans. Isn't that right hm?"

"Believe what you want," he replied, his voice hard, but she could sense a tremor beneath it. "But if you understood what's out there, you wouldn't be asking for independence. You'd be begging for protection."

Her eyes blazed with anger as she held his gaze, feeling the weight of every word. "I. don't. need. protection. And certainly not yours. I'm capable of making my own choices, even if they aren't the right ones."

"Then those choices are going to get you killed," he replied, blunt and unyielding. But his voice was different this time, the edges frayed, his words dropping into something raw, almost desperate. "And you have no idea what that would mean—for the people you'd leave behind."

What?

Her breath caught, her anger stumbling as the confusion washed over her. What did he mean?

He was so confusing, so closed off, it hurt.

She opened her mouth to respond, to demand an explanation, but the words vanished in the hollow space between them.

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe ?—crossed her face as she saw him, just for a moment, slip. She'd never expected to see even a crack in that armor.

The silence stretched, taut as a wire, until they pulled near the Narrows, the streets narrowing and darkening around them.

He eased the car to a stop in an alleyway by her apartment, and the tension between them was so thick it seemed to vibrate, settling like a weight on her shoulders.

"Thanks," she muttered, barely meaning it, as she reached for the door handle. The bitter night air struck her as soon as it cracked open, a jolt of cold that only intensified the aching in her chest, the emptiness his words left behind.

The chill bit into her skin as her feet touched the pavement, and she welcomed it—a reminder that, at least, her night was ending. She was just about to pull her hand free, to escape back into her own world, when she felt his hand close around hers, firm and unyielding.

Startled, she looked back, but he didn't meet her gaze, his expression hidden in the shadows. He pressed something into her palm—a small device, cool and solid in her hand.

"For emergencies," he murmured, his voice low and final.

She looked down at the device, feeling the cool weight of it settle into her palm, a tangible reminder that, despite everything, he'd bound her to him yet again. It was a lifeline, but one she hadn't asked for—a link to him she didn't know how to sever, even if she wanted to. Anger and confusion swirled within her, pressing up against her resolve. 

Part of her wanted to throw it back, to end whatever twisted bond he kept tethering her to. 

But her fingers only tightened around it, a reluctant acceptance she despised herself for.

"Right," she said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the silence. "Because I'm 'valuable.'"

He was so still, so unyielding, but the shadows softened just enough for her to catch something in his expression—a flicker of hesitation, a crack in his perfect, unreadable mask. 

The cold barrier he wore around himself seemed to shift, and she could almost feel something between them, a weight heavy with unspoken things, words neither of them could say.

Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, she almost believed he would answer her. But the flicker passed, buried beneath the steel of his gaze, the armor snapping back into place. 

He was the Bat once more—untouchable, unreachable.

"Stay safe," he said finally, his tone curt, though beneath it, that rawness lingered, faint but unmistakable.

She swallowed hard, her chest tight, and managed a small nod. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "Be careful."

His gaze shifted, just a flicker, but enough to show her words had once again slipped past his defenses. Somehow, it was her specialty with him—finding those hidden, vulnerable places beneath his armor, stirring something in him he'd long thought dead. 

It was as if she could reach the parts of him he'd buried, unsettling that stone-cold heart he swore no one could touch.

Without another word, she turned, stepped out, and closed the door, her fingers lingering on the handle for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, she stepped away, her legs carrying her quickly toward her building.

She didn't look back, didn't trust herself to. 

The door to her apartment closed behind her, but she could still feel his presence, the memory of that unsaid moment like an ache in her chest.

Outside, the Batmobile remained in the shadows, unmoving, a silent sentinel. His silent presence lingering like a ghost in the shadows, unwilling to let her go but never willing to let her stay.

It didn't pull away until her apartment light finally flickered on, and even then, the empty space it left felt far too heavy.

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Didn’t edit the chapter yet…. sooooo sorry for any mistakes ;)

btw this is the outfit & make up/hair I had in mind while writing the chapter— if anyone’s interested ofc (lol) :

…don’t hesitate to drop a comment tho !! xxx

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

08: Little Talks

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: fluff, heart opening talks

a/n: I will say that probably this was one of the hardest chapter to write? Because I don't want to end this story yet, and I feel that what happens in this chapter is something very important. (psst, check the description of the tropes!!)

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Even if the air was cold, even if breathing hurt because of cold air getting inside my lungs, I still feel my face and chest warm, as well as all the parts of my body he touches.

After the sunset, the four of us got up and decided to do a walk around the village waiting for the call that would tell us that the rented car was ready. We went to the Christmas market, looking at the little stands and buying a warm cup of hot chocolate to warm our hands. There were stands of jewelry and other handcrafted things, as well as places with decorations for the Christmas tree made of wood or glass. As the market of the village we are staying in, this one is lit by fairy lights and a big tree in the middle of it with kids running around it.

Lando held my hand all the time, keeping it warm even if I was using gloves and placing a hand on my shoulder when we stopped in front of a stand to watch it, making me stand close to him and lean on his touch. 

I looked at him and saw his eyes glued to a pair of bracelets, making me smile. I'll make sure to buy them when he's not looking.

“There's a stand with street food!” Pietra gasped looking around.

“Go ahead, I want to look at more things on this stand” I said and felt Lando squeezing my hand, making me look at him. “Go, I'll go quickly”

I saw them walk away and I smiled, looking back at the stand and buying the matching bracelets.

“Are those for you and that boy, hm?” the lady smiled, putting the bracelets on a box. “Is he your boyfriend? You two look cute”

“Something like that” I said blushing, putting the box inside my backpack. “We are working on it”

“Well, let me tell you that you two are doing a good job”

I smiled at her, blushing. I made my way back towards them, with many things going on in my mind.

“Something you liked?” he asked, looking back at the stand.

“Hm? Oh… No” I smiled. “I only wanted to watch what they had”

He nodded and smiled, pressing a kiss on my temple and then wrapping his arm around my shoulders while looking at the menu of the food track. I smiled, holding the hand that was resting against my shoulder and wrapped my arm on his waist.

“Do you want to share something?” he asked. “The cheese sticks look really nice”

“Then we'll share cheese sticks” I nodded.

The four of us walked around until Lando received the call, making us go back to the resort to pick up the car. We left the things we bought on the back as well as the backpacks.

“Come sit in the front with me” Lando asked, holding my hand.

“Of course” I nodded, smiling.

When I sat on the passenger seat, he held my hand, making Max and Pietra chuckle from the backseats. I blushed and fought the need of taking my hand away, letting him hold our hands in the middle of us. He let me use his phone and put music on it, choosing the songs. And still, he never took his hand away from mine.

“What are you going to do to come back to the house?” I asked, looking at him. “You said you were going to leave us and then go back to the village… How are you going to return to the house?”

“I can take a taxi” he smiled. 

“I'll go with you then” I sighed, answering before thinking of what I said. 

“Okay” he nodded, squeezing my hand softly, three times.

Three times. I love you?

I blushed looking away, watching the signal that said that we were entering the village. I sighed relieved, somehow scared of how the snow was starting to increase, but feeling his thumb rubbing my knuckles made me relax on my seat. He parked the car in front of the house and helped Max and Pietra take the things inside it before coming back to the car, holding my hand again, this time on my lap.

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” he asked, looking at me before starting the engine. “Aren't you tired?”

“A little” I said, smiling softly. “But it's okay”

He smiled and nodded, starting the engine and driving back to the village, going to the resort and leaving the car there as promised. We had to wait a little until they confirmed that everything was perfect and then we left, walking around.

“Can we have a little time for ourselves before going back to the house?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Please” he chuckled, holding my hand and walking around.

We walked in silence, but standing close and feeling our shoulders bump, making us smile all the time. 

The lady from the stand said that we were doing a good job, but how does she know it's a good job? What does it mean? How do I know if what we are doing is good? How can I know if I'm truly falling for him?

“I can see your brain working” he chuckled, making me sigh and look at him. “What is bothering you?”

“I just…” I sighed, rubbing my temple with my free hand. “I guess I have a lot of things going on inside my mind”

“You want to share them?” he asked, walking slower. “I mean, only if you want to”

“Yeah” I smiled weakly. “But the problem is that I don't know how to share them. I just have so many questions for Harry, for Eloise… and I just want to avoid them. But I can't forget what happened, how they made me feel. I still feel trapped in Harry's claws, if you know what I mean. I still feel that somehow he has control over me because I can't stop thinking about how things are going to be once we go back home. I wonder if he will act like nothing happened, or maybe he will act like he never met me. Will he talk with Eloise and fill her mind with lies? Will she break up with him? I just don't know what to feel. And I don't want to start anything with you because I think that you don't deserve that… you don't deserve having someone that doesn't think about you all times of the day, Lando”

He stopped walking and smiled weakly, looking at the front. In front of us is the ice rink, with people inside of it.

“Life will never be perfect” he sighed. “Neither love. But that's why in a relationship there are two people in it, or more, you know what I mean. But… a relationship will never be about both parts giving their 100 per cent to the other. Because that is not realistic, if a relationship looks like that it will never be healthy. Sometimes one will give their 30 and the other their 70… or half and half”

“Yeah, but…” I sighed. “I want to give you the love you deserve to feel, Lando. I want to get rid of whatever spells Harry out on me. I want to feel things for you and only you. And right now… I feel love and confusion. I don't know what I feel”

“And me being close to you makes it worse” he whispered, taking his hand away from mine slowly, letting it go. “I get it”

“No! No, no. Please, keep holding me” I said, grabbing his hand again, tightly.

“But I'm confusing you, Violet” he sighed. “I'm acting like something I'm not. I… Even if I feel that you lean on me, that your body relaxes when I touch your hand…”

“And I want you to keep doing it” I said looking, looking at him. “I want you to hold me, to keep kissing my forehead. Because I like it. When I said that I wanted to give you a chance I wasn't joking, okay? When I said that I would date you because of you, I wasn't lying. I like you, okay?”

“Y-you do?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah” I whisper blushing. “I just… It's inevitable. You held me at night, you made me feel safe. And you kiss me on my forehead and hold me like I was your lover. The way you look at me… Of course I'm falling, Lando…”

I heard him chuckle and hide his cheeks with his hands, making me smile and laugh softly. 

“Are you blushing?” I gasped, laughing.

“How do you want me to not blush! The girl I love just told me she likes me!” he laughed, covering his cheeks more. “I just talked like a kid”

“But it was cute” I chuckled. “I just… I'm serious, Lando. I like you, and all I want is to be happy and with you. I don't care if that comes with me having to be with someone that is around the world racing, I don't care if we can't see each other for weeks. I want to be with you, fame included in the package”

“I just love you, Violet” he said, breathless. “And the moment you are ready, I swear to God that I will make you the happiest girl in this world”

“Oh, I know you will” I chuckled, kissing his cheek.

He smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pressing his lips on my temple and leaving them there for a few seconds longer. I leaned on his touch, closing my eyes and smiling.

“Do you want to skate a little?” he asked against my temple, his breath hitting my skin, making me smile. 

“Yeah” I smile looking at the kids and families skating together.

We went to get the skating shoes and changed ours and somehow he managed to tie mine before I had the chance of doing it.

“So you really are going to act all boyfriend now?” I asked, blushing. 

“I mean, you said you like me” he chuckled. “I have to make that reach the next level”

I smile softly and sigh, brushing his curls with my hand, and I sighed happily. It felt like touching a cloud.

“You like my hair?” he chuckled looking up at me.

“I like the curls” I smile, brushing it softly. “I always wanted to touch it”

“Then now you can touch it whenever you want” he smiled.

I knew how to skate. When I was a kid, Eloise and I used to go to the Christmas market in our town and spend most of the afternoon there with our classmates. Somehow, being on an ice rink and skating was like a tradition I had with Eloise. Until this year.

“Come on, you won't fall” I smiled, holding his hands, keeping the balance and focusing on helping him. “Try to imitate my posture and everything will go smoothly, yeah?”

“Saying it is easier than doing it” he laughed nervously. “Can we just stay in the railing?”

“Of course” I smiled, helping him and letting him hold the railing with one hand while the other held mine. “Better?”

He nodded and squeezed my hand. Three times. I love you.

We spent the hour we rented the shoes trying to make him feel more comfortable, skating slowly with the help of the railing and then without help, only holding my hands.

It was only an hour. But one of the best hours of my life.

The taxi ride was calm, both of us sitting on the backseats holding hands, looking out of the window how the snow fell around us while hearing the driver talk about the amount of tourists this year and commenting that the house we rented is one of the most beautiful ones in the village.

Walking inside the house was like getting inside of a sauna after taking a cold shower, the warmth of the place and the smell of food welcoming us after spending the afternoon at the village.

“Hey” Max and Pietra waved at us from the couch, her getting up and walking towards me.

She linked my arm and led me to the kitchen, smiling and sitting on a chair.

“Sorry we came late” I smiled. 

“Don't worry, we figured you two needed time alone” she said. “How did it go?”

“Good… Yeah, pretty good” I nodded. “I told him I like him”

“That's good!” she gasped holding my hands. “Oh, and the box is in your room”

“You saw it?” I sighed blushing, noticing that the backpacks were empty on top of the counter. 

“I think it's so cute, honestly” she laughed softly. “I saw him looking at those bracelets too. And I guessed you went to buy them when you separated from the group while we bought the snacks”

“Yeah… I mean, I'm giving baby steps” I nodded. “But I'm not stopping. I mean… maybe it's something really crazy, or even insane. I have only known about his feelings since yesterday and it scares me how well I welcomed them. And let's not talk about how I am reciprocating them… maybe it's too rushed?”

“Maybe it's not” she smiled softly. “Look, he has been your secret admirer for four years. And I have to remind you that you said that it feels like he is your soulmate and that if you met him you would immediately fall in love”

“But I was joking…” I laughed softly. 

“Lando is your soulmate, literally” Pietra smiled. “He worries about you, when you are stressed he knows it and makes sure you are okay. And you did that too when we went to the races. Even if Harry tried to keep you away from him, you texted him and made sure he was alright”

“That's what friends do” I sighed.

“I don't think that what you feel right now is rushed” she said. “Maybe in some way. But in the last few days I saw you change, Violet. You are free from that asshole, now it's your time to do whatever you want to do, okay?”

“Yeah” I smile weakly, taking a deep breath.

“That's my girl” she chuckled, getting up and hugging her. “And I promise, you and Lando deserve to be happy. I see the way you look at him, and it's wonderful”

I sigh and walk out of the kitchen, hugging Max before going upstairs to my room. I needed some time alone, just to think and clear my mind.

Maybe I should text Eloise. That's the least I can do, right? She's my friend, I’ve known her since we were kids.

Hey, I hope you landed well…

I don't know if you want to talk, but I just have to let this out

Harry is not good. At least for me. When I met him I had a crush on him and it kept growing, but then you two met and started dating, so I tried to ignore those feelings. And I never noticed it but he wasn't good to me. He manipulated me, Eloise. He made sure to have me for himself, he was possessive and made sure that no one got close to me. And he did that with Lando. He knew he had feelings for me and instead of being a good friend and trying to set us together, he pushed me away and kept me out of the group, making me think that I don't belong there. He even started blackmailing Lando! 

The reason why Lando wanted you out was because he doesn't want to be friends with Harry anymore

And I'm sorry and it hurts me so much to say it, but these days when you were here, I felt like you weren't my friend. You were always with him, you forgot about me. If you wanted to be with Harry alone, why did you ask me to come with you to the trip?

Do you remember my birthday? It was yesterday

I'm not waiting for a congratulations anymore, it's too late for that 

I swallowed thickly, wiping the single tear that escaped my eyes while writing it. I took a deep breath and tried to smile while writing the last message.

And I will date Lando. I don't care about Harry's opinion about him. I was unhappy for many years because of him, I deserve to think about myself and be with whoever makes me happy. And lately, he's the only one that does it 

I smiled weakly reading everything I wrote to her and sighed, muting her notifications, not wanting to read for at least a few days.

I left my phone on the nightstand muted, not wanting to know if she called me. I made sure to block Harry's number, definitely cutting contact and friendship with him.

It was getting late, and since we already had dinner, all of us went to their beds to get rest for the next day. Today so many things happened, too much drama, too many emotions. But actually, I don't regret any of them. I don't regret feeling how I am feeling, how the tinglings in my stomach whenever he touches me make me smile. I want Lando, and that's everything that matters.

The bed was cold, or maybe too big. But I couldn't fall asleep even if I closed my eyes and tried to do it. The bed was empty, too empty. And somehow I felt ashamed after realizing that I needed Lando's arms around me like last night, keeping me warm and listening to his heartbeat like a lullaby. 

Would it be too much if I go to his room and ask him if I can sleep with him? Yeah, it would be too much. 

But I want his warmth… 

No. I have to deal with it.

While my mind was arguing if I should go to his room or stay in my bed alone, my own body got up from bed and went to his room, knocking on the door. And it was too late to realize what I did, because seconds later he was opening the door.

“Violet?” he frowned, looking at me with worry. “Everything's alright?”

“I can't sleep” I smiled weakly, wrapping my arms around myself. 

“The bed feels too big, right?” he said, making me blush. “My bed or yours?”

“Mine” I smiled. 

He smiled and held my hand, walking back to my room and sitting on the bed. He looked up at me and my heart melted with the view. His curls were messy, probably because he just got up from bed, and his smile is sleepy. But that didn't stop my body from standing in front of him and welcoming the touch of his hands on the back of my knees.

“You should see how beautiful the views are in the morning” I whisper, brushing his hair softly before he pulls me to his lap, making me place my legs at his sides. 

“I will” he whispered, this time wrapping his arms around my waist. “But I doubt they will be more beautiful than you”

“That was so cheesy” I chuckled, leaning on him. 

“And you love cheese”

He chuckled softly and looked at me with a smile. I placed my hands on his shoulders, slowly moving my hands to his nape and jaw, cupping it softly and feeling him leaning on my touch. His eyes moved from my eyes to my lips and that made me realize what maybe will happen in the next seconds.

“God, you have no idea how much I'm holding back to not kiss you” he whispered, making me smile. “You have no idea of all the times I had the temptation of doing it…”

“Then why don't you do it?” I whisper, resting my forehead against his. “I wanted to kiss you at the sunset too”

“You did?” 

“Just kiss me, Lando” I whisper, feeling a thousand butterflies flying in my stomach and a fire inside my chest.

Beneath the moonlit sky, our eyes locked, a magnetic pull drawing us together. I felt the air was charged with anticipation as his warm breath grazed my lips, making me close my eyes and draw a smile in my lips. The touch of his hand was soft the moment he cupped my cheek, pulling me closer to him before we pressed our lips together. And when they did, I could feel the world stop, my own body and mind focusing on him, on his touch, on my feelings for him and how he said a thousand of things only with the touch of his lips on mine.

We didn't need to say anything the moment I pulled away, looking at him and feeling how he wrapped his arms around me and made us lay in the bed. He looked at me in the eyes and pressed another kiss on my lips, holding me closer and tight.

“I love you, Violet” I whisper. “And I don't care if I had to wait four years for this. I would have waited an eternity if that meant that I could finally have the chance of holding you”

I didn't dare to say anything, I didn't know how to answer him, how to say how I feel. Only a kiss held the meaning of my feelings for him, and the moment it was me who pressed my lips on his, he smiled and held me closer.

I feel loved. And I will make sure to make him feel loved too.

“Say it again” I whisper against his lips.

“I love you” he smiled, holding me tighter.

“I have something for you” I said, sitting on the bed and looking down at him. And somehow, watching him like that, made me fall a little more.

I got up from the bed and went to the desk of the room, smiling when I saw the box and grabbing it. When I turned around, Lando was sitting on the bed, looking at me.

“What's that?” he frowned, looking at the box. “I thought you said you didn't buy anything”

“A little lie” I said sitting next to him and placing the box on his hand. “Open it”

I bite my lip watching him do what I asked, smiling when I heard him gasp.

“Violet!” he smiled looking at me, touching with his fingers the matching bracelets. 

“I want these bracelets to be a promise” I said while holding his hand. “I want us to wear it and promise that we will love each other. I want you to look at it when you are away for races, remembering our promise and our love. And I know this is so cheesy and that we're not in a romantic movie where everything is perfect. But I promise to you, Lando Norris, that I will love you just how you deserve”

“I love cheese, so it was perfect” he said giggling, holding my cheeks and kissing me. “I promise you, Violet. I will love you right”

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel

[marketsndata]

[ultimate-anime-tournament]

THE ULTIMATE ANIME TOURNAMENT BEGINS! featuring 384 shows spanning 60 years!

all matchups are listed below the cut, and the first polls will be going up shortly 👍

edit: made a google spreadsheet documenting all matchups and their wins/losses!

left side:

Majokko Megu-chan VS Soul Eater VS Turn A Gundam

Noragami VS Ranma 1/2 VS Shadows House

Captain Tsubasa VS Barakamon VS Ojamajo Doremi

Dr Ramune: Mysterious Disease Specialist VS Joshiraku VS Concrete Revolutio

Maya the Honey Bee VS Bocchi the Rock! VS Senyuu.

Angel Beats VS Golden Kamuy VS Initial D

Lucky Star VS Mononoke VS Assassination Classroom

Go! Princess Pretty Cure VS Shirobako VS Space Pirate Captain Harlock

Golden Time VS Death Note VS Ao Haru Ride

Food Wars VS One Piece VS Space Battleship Yamato

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K VS Blood Blockade Battlefront VS Poco's Udon World

Space Patrol Luluco VS Yu-Gi-Oh! VS Your Lie in April

Slam Dunk VS One Punch Man VS Candy Candy

Doraemon VS Akame ga Kill VS Black Clover

Space Dandy VS Sazae-san VS Bloom into You

Show by Rock!! VS Pokémon VS Restaurant to Another World

Uchouten Kazoku VS Tetsujin 28 VS Miracle Girl Limit-chan

Sally the Witch VS March Comes in Like a Lion VS Ground Defense Force! Mao-chan

Day Break Illusion VS Heidi, Girl of the Alps VS Zombie Land Saga

Yuri is My Job! VS Kimagure Orange Road VS The Seven Deadly Sins

Akudama Drive VS Future Boy Conan VS Land of the Lustrous

BanG Dream! VS Rin-ne VS Serial Experiments Lain

Snow White with the Red Hair VS Juni Taisen: Zodiac War VS The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

Ranking of Kings VS Osomatsu-san VS Odd Taxi

Flying Witch VS Bodacious Space Pirates VS Shugo Chara

Yuki Yuna is a Hero VS Super Dimension Fortress Macros VS Spy x Family

Magic Kaito 1412 VS Kaguya-sama: Love is War VS Kingdom

Aikatsu VS Cells at Work VS New Game!

Blue Exorcist VS Sound! Euphonium VS Ashita no Joe

Re:Zero VS My Hero Academia VS Pani Poni Dash

Ouran High School Host Club VS Dragon Quest: The Adventure of Dai VS Children of the Whales

86 vs Erased vs Demon Slayer

Mashle vs Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt vs Bakemonogatari

Skip and Loafer vs Shiki vs My-Hime

Laughing under the Clouds VS Naruto VS Sakura Wars

The Vampire Dies in No Time VS Dragon Ball GT VS Fist of the North Star

Shadowverse VS Blue Lock VS Tamako Market

Legend of the Galactic Heroes VS Lycoris Recoil VS Tanaka-kun is Always Listless

Agatha Christie's Great Detectives Poirot and Marple VS Sonic X VS Samurai Champloo

Cutie Honey VS Tokyo Revengers VS Parasyte

Kaiji VS Deca-Dence VS Clannad

I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss VS Digimon Adventure VS Charlotte

Kageki Shojo!! VS Majuu Senshi Luna Varga VS Stars Align

Love, Chunibyo, and Other Delusions VS Gintama VS Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits

Bubblegum Crisis VS Air VS Made in Abyss

Touch VS Fire Force VS Love Live! Sunshine!!

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer VS Sket Dance VS Himitsu no Akko-chan

Zatch Bell VS Little Witch Academia VS Gal & Dino

Parappa the Rapper VS Life with an Ordinary Guy Who Reincarnated into a Total Fantasy Knockout (Fabiniku) VS Talentless Nana

Nyanbo! VS Bomberman Jetters VS Do It Yourself!

Kochikame: Tokyo Beat Cops VS Nobody's Boy Remi VS Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Chika Ichiban VS Squid Girl VS Anne of Green Gables

Ikkyuu-san VS The Case Study of Vanitas VS Free!

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story VS Chihayafuru VS So I'm a Spider, So What?

Aggretsuko VS Hakumei and Mikochi VS Mou Ippon

What's Michael VS Kimono Jihen VS Kiratto Prichan

Mushishi VS Uma Musume VS Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Sabikui Bisco VS Dorohedoro VS The World Ends With You: The Animation

Un-Go VS The Case Files of Jeweler Richard VS Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure

Sonny Boy VS Tiger & Bunny VS Black Butler

A Place Further than the Universe VS Lupin III (all Parts) VS Tsuritama

Tari Tari VS Maoyu VS Buddy Daddies

Horimiya VS Akiba Maid War VS Cap Revolution Bottleman

Helck VS Play it Cool, Guys VS Revolutionary Girl Utena

right side:

Gegege no Kitarou VS Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood VS Urahara

D.Gray-Man VS Bakuman VS Devilman

Violet Evergarden VS Death Parade VS Speed Racer

Skull Face Bookseller Honda-san VS Mazinger Z VS Planetes

Aim for the Ace! VS Futari wa Pretty Cure VS Saiunkoku Monogatari

Comic Girls VS Galaxy Express 999 VS Dr. Slump

Wedding Peach VS Ronja, the Robber's Daughter VS Haikyuu!

Saint Seiya VS Mahoutsukai Chappy VS Yuri on Ice

Hikaru no Go VS Yona of the Dawn VS Mega Man NT Warrior

Black Lagoon VS Nichijou VS Space Cobra

Ms. Koizumi Loves Ramen Noodles VS Stop! Hibari-kun VS She and Her Cat: Everything Flows

Space Brothers VS Gakuen Alice VS Dragon Ball Z

AKB0048 VS Kino's Journey -The Beautiful World- VS Musashi no Ken

Flip Flappers VS Hamtaro VS Daily Lives of High School Boys

Another VS Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju VS Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

Gurren Lagann VS Hana no Ko Lunlun VS City Hunter

Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water VS Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun VS To Your Eternity

Kiteretsu Daihyakka VS Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun VS Noir

Bungo Stray Dogs VS Soreike! Anpanman VS Moomin

Hajime no Ippo VS Paranoia Agent VS Mobile Suit Gundam

Maison Ikkoku VS Yuru Camp VS Sherlock Hound

Great Pretender VS Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress VS World Trigger

Little Princess Sara VS Ghost Sweeper Mikami VS Keep Your Hands off Eizouken!

My Next Life as a Villainess VS Kirby: Right Back at Ya! VS Air Gear

Saint Tail VS Haibane Renmei VS Astro Boy

Crayon Shin-chan VS Tokyo Ghoul VS Hell Girl

Heaven's Design Team VS Neon Genesis Evangelion VS Kiznaiver

Servamp VS Akane-chan VS Yo-kai Watch

The Vision of Escaflowne VS Tsurune VS Sk8 the Infinity

The Promised Neverland VS Hime-chan no Ribbon VS Fruits Basket

Urusei Yatsura VS Dr. Stone VS Shaman King

Star of the Giants VS Cardcaptor Sakura VS Angelic Layer

Berserk VS Kodocha VS Ping Pong The Animation

Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's VS Boys over Flowers VS Otherside Picnic

Monster VS Sgt. Frog VS K-On!

Aria VS The Rose of Versailles VS Beyblade

Natsume's Book of Friends VS Planet With VS Detective Conan / Case Closed

Nodame Kantaabire VS Kyou Kara Maoh VS Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans

Duel Masters VS Shounen Ninja Kaze no Fujimaru VS Hunter x Hunter

Mahou Shoujo Lalabel VS Carole & Tuesday VS Powerpuff Girls Z

Big Windup! VS Heartcatch Pretty Cure! VS Fighting Foodons

Gosick VS Ace Attorney VS Inazuma Eleven

Given VS The Prince of Tennis VS Cowboy Bebop

Code Geass VS Teppen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! VS FLCL

Wolf's Rain VS Reborn! VS Princess Tutu

Magic Knight Rayearth VS Romeo x Juliet VS Oshi no Ko

Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo VS Bakugan VS Jujutsu Kaisen

Yu Yu Hakusho VS Love Live! School Idol Project VS Trigun

Kimba the White Lion VS Waccha Primagi VS Toradora

Ultra Maniac VS Mahou Sensei Negima VS Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight

Visual Prison VS Steins;gate VS Inuyasha

Vinland Saga VS Assault Lily Bouquet VS Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day

Pop Team Epic VS Gingitsune VS Tokyo Mew Mew

Blue Period VS Higurashi When They Cry VS Fairy Tail

Chargeman Ken VS Shin Sekai Yori VS Chainsaw Man

Beyond the Boundary VS Silver Spoon VS Hyouka

Stitch! VS Mobile Suit Gundam SEED VS Symphogear

Kuroko's Basketball VS Pokemon Horizons VS Gatchaman Crowds

Ghost Stories VS Non Non Biyori VS Samurai Flamenco

Fushigi Yuugi VS Psycho-Pass VS Azumanga Daioh

Bleach VS Dragon Ball Super VS Ace of Diamond

My Neighbor Seki VS Mob Psycho 100 VS No. 6

Full Metal Panic VS Princess Principal VS Ya Boy Kongming!

Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei VS Puella Magi Madoka Magica VS Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song

[sweetloleepop]

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑶𝒍𝒅, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑵𝒆𝒘, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅, 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆

Chapter 7: Mister Yeager?

Synopsis: Being the good wife that she is, (Y/N) tried to deliver Erwin a folder.

Pairings: Zeke Yeager/Reader, Erwin Smith/Reader

Tags: Modern AU, Arranged Marriage, Additional Tags to be Added, Reader is kind of a dandere, Erwin Smith is mean, slow burn, infidelity

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Wordcount: 1.5k

The door opened and Erwin finally looked up.

“How’s it been, Erwin?”

Erwin’s eyes widened. He didn’t expect to see her right now.

“Am I not welcome anymore?” the person asked.

“No, that’s not it-” Erwin was cut off.

“What is it then?”

“I just didn’t expect you, is all.”

Erwin stood up and walked towards the door where his unexpected visitor is standing still.

“Come in.” Erwin spoke quietly, almost whispering. He looked outside his office before locking the door.

||

‘Pasta… I need pasta’ (Y/N) repeatedly said to herself while roaming her eyes through the grocery shelves. She’s currently at the grocery store, looking for stuff to fill their pantry. ‘Ah!’

“There you are.” She said to herself while grabbing a pack.

She looked at her phone and checked the pasta off her grocery list. It was the last in her list so she proceeded to the cashier. While in the queue, she looked around the shelves near the counter. There, sat a magazine with a red-haired woman on the cover. The woman has long curly locks and a skin as white and clear as porcelain, not a bit of freckle to be seen, how pretty. “Next, please.”

(Y/N)’s attention was caught by the cashier. She pushed her cart forward and placed her grocery items on the counter. The lazy beeping of the scanner and the quiet conversations from the other employees were the only noises heard inside the mini market.

After the bagger put her items inside an eco bag, she headed out of the store. The early 8:30am breeze whooshed and made their way through her hair, making them flow mid-air and give her nape a smooth and breezy touch. She took a deep breath, basking in the early morning breeze.

(Y/N) placed her bag of grocery on the counter, taking the items out, one by one. She organized the whole pantry, putting what to where they should be. Once she finished placing the items, she folded the bag and headed to the foyer. She placed the bag in one of the foyer’s drawers, putting it neatly amongst the other bags.

Upon standing up, she noticed a folder on top of the foyer shelf. Curious, she opened the folder and scanned its content. ‘Oh…’

||

(Y/N) contemplated for a good while whether or not to deliver the folder to Erwin’s office but as she thought about how important the folder might be, the more she had the urge to give it. ‘It might be important’ ‘he might need this today’ ‘what if his company relies on this??’ And so, she decided to get dressed and deliver the folder.

She headed downstairs and caught a glimpse of the kitchen. The angry grumble of her stomach reminded her that she hasn’t eat anything yet. ‘Maybe later’ she thought and proceeded to the door.

(Y/N) decided to call a taxi but upon waiting for a good three minutes by their yard, she realized that no taxi passes by and that she has never called a taxi before. She used to have a driver but after getting married, all of her helpers was left with her parents. Sigh. She walked her way to the park, watching people do their own stuff. She came across an old lady, ‘Maybe she knows how!’ (Y/N) approached the woman and greeted her.

“Excuse me?” she started.

“Yes?” the lady asked.

“Good morning. If you don’t mind, would you tell me how to get a taxi?” (Y/N) asked with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, of course!” the lady replied with a smile.

And with that, she made her way to Erwin’s workplace, thanking the woman for helping her. The trip was fine, the driver made a small conversation with her before he played the radio, quieting himself and letting the music play throughout their trip. (Y/N) sat quietly, watching the busy streets and people as they pass by. She wondered what it would be like to walk around a busy street such as that. Must be overwhelming. Or maybe fun. Maybe she’ll go out by herself some time, try to explore and do outdoor activities.

When the taxi stopped, (Y/N) payed the driver and stepped out of the car. The taxi driver drove off and there left (Y/N), staring at the skyscraper. ‘So this is where he works? I hope I got the right address, it’s the one written on the papers here.’ She thought, holding the folder close to her chest.

Pushing her doubts aside, (Y/N) proceeded to the building. She looked around and saw a logo behind what seems to be the main desk. She opened the folder, it has the same logo, now she is so sure that she is in the right place.

“Excuse me, is Erwin Smith here?” she asked the woman behind the desk.

||

A knock on the door caught Erwin off-guard. Shit.

“Who’s there?” Erwin asked, trying his best to sound calm.

“Mister Smith? It’s me.”

Erwin muttered a few more ‘shits’ before fixing his tie and opening the door. On the other side of the door, there stand Eren with two cups of coffee.

“I’m here with your coffee, sir” Eren said, offering Erwin a cup.

“You sure that’s not yet cold?” Erwin asked.

“Yeah, I just prepared these-”

“Why don’t you make me another one? Make it faster this time, hm? Thanks.” Erwin said before retreating back to his office, closing the door behind him.

‘Weird’ Eren thought before turning on his feet.

||

“No, Ma’am… I don’t think Mister Smith has a meeting with Mister Yeager today.” The woman behind the desk answered.

‘Mister Yeager…?’

“Uhm, who’s- who’s Mister Yeager…?” (Y/N) nervously asked. ‘I can’t be- I cannot have entered the wrong building’

“Mister Yeager is-” the woman was cut off by a deep masculine voice.

“Mister Yeager is me”

Both (Y/N) and the woman turned to the source of the voice. It was from a man. A tall, blondie with glasses. He wears a blue suit with matching tie. His blonde hair is neat and tidy, his expression is serious. ‘Kinda scary’ (Y/N) thought.

“Good morning, Mister Yeager.”

“Morning.” He replied to the woman before turning to (Y/N). “And who do we have here?”

“Oh, uhm. Me?” (Y/N) asked.

The man looked around and hummed, “No one I don’t know except you.”

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N) (L/N)”

“May I ask what Miss (L/N) is doing inside my building?”

“You- your building?” (Y/N) is now sure that this building is NOT the one that she is looking for.

“Yes. This is MY building, Miss (L/N). I own and run the place. Now, I want to know, what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for someone but I think I entered the wrong building, s-sorry. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” (Y/N) said, almost mumbling. She rushed to the exit without looking back, leaving both the woman and that Mister Yeager amused. ‘That was soo embarrassing!!’

||

(Y/N) lifted her fork and brought the fried dish into her mouth. It’s delicious but her face failed to show how she feels about the food. She can’t stop thinking about her embarrassing moment earlier today. ‘They must’ve thought I’m a stupid woman’ sigh.

After (Y/N) exited the building, she continued walking until she reached a bench. She sat there panting for a few minutes, trying to forget about what just happened. After she calmed down, she looked around for a bit before calling a taxi and made her way home.

Erwin noticed (Y/N)’s seemingly disappointed expression. It made him curious, what made her look like that? He kept on thinking, it can’t be. Erwin found himself in a state of paranoia. His heart is pumping and his forehead starts to sweat just little. He can’t quite put what does he actually feel. Anticipation? Fright?

He decided, he can’t stay this way. He hates feeling like this so he took a few deep breaths and spoke, “I don’t think the fish is bad.”

(Y/N)’s head turned to Erwin’s direction so fast she had a whiplash. Her hand instinctively held her neck. She mumbled a little ‘ow’ before replying, “Really? Thanks.”

“What’s making your face look like that if you thought the same?” Erwin asked.

“Oh. It’s just- well you see, earlier this morning, I saw a folder on the foyer drawer and I thought it might be important so I decided to deliver it to you and then when I told the taxi the address written on the paper there and I arrived, it occurred to me that I entered the wrong building.” (Y/N) stated, sighing and slumping her shoulders.

‘She almost went to my office earlier.’ “Is that so?” Erwin, yet again, asked. (Y/N) hummed as reply. “Very well then, next time, make sure to just call my number.” Erwin offered. “Alright.”

||

(Y/N) is laying on her side, facing Erwin. He fell asleep an hour ago, it’s now 10pm. He looks very calm when he sleeps, it made (Y/N) feel light. Erwin seemed very stoic when he’s awake, always looking so serious.

She rolled a hundred and eighty degrees to her left, now facing the far wall. She closed her eyes, welcoming slumber…

“And who do we have here?”

He looked around and hummed, “No one I don’t know except you.”

“May I ask what Miss (L/N) is doing inside my building?”

“Yes. This is MY building, Miss (L/N). I own and run the place.”

“What are you doing here?”

[gillianthecat]

Workplaces in QL Shows

Step by Step got me thinking about the types of companies that get used as the settings for Office Romance in QL, and then by extension, what kinds of work characters do. I've only included ones where the job or the workplace is somehow part of the story or is a setting (so jobs the characters had as background info don't count). I didn't include censored BL because I feel that setting plays a different (more prominent than usual in BL) role in those types of stories. I didn't count university students doing school projects, but did include teenagers actually working. This is only the list of shows I've seen or know enough about to make as guess, so a lot are missing. Please add on, or make corrections! Titles with an asterisk * are included in multiple categories (leads had different jobs, or one job fits both categories). Titles in (parenthesis) I've only watched a part of, but enough to determine what work they did, titles in [brackets] I haven't seen so I'm going off what I've read.

(updated 1/7/24 with shows some new shows and some old ones I've seen since first posting. still not a comprensive list.)

Marketing/Advertising Office

🇹🇭 GAP

🇹🇭 Step By Step

🇰🇷 The New Employee

🇰🇷 Roommates of Poongduck 304

🇰🇷 All the Liquors *

🇹🇭 [Check Out]

🇹🇭 [Paint with Love] *

Graphic Design Office

🇹🇭 Bed Friend (or is it also marketing?)

🇹🇭 Middleman's Love

🇯🇵 Senpai, This Can't Be Love!

Architecture

🇹🇭 Big Dragon

🇹🇭 Love in the Air *

Game Design

🇹🇭 A Boss and a Babe

🇰🇷 Our Dating Sim

Other/Business Empire/Generic Office setting (or I never figured out what they did)

🇯🇵 Old Fashion Cupcake (i never figured it out)

🇹🇼 We Best Love 2 (some tech thing?)

🇹🇭 To Sir With Love * (business empire)

🇹🇭 Cutie Pie (business empire)

🇯🇵 Cherry Magic (stationary company, iirc)

🇹🇭 Cherry Magic

🇹🇭 Love in the Air * (some sort of business empire?)

🇹🇼 [Be Loved In House: I Do] *

🇰🇷 [Love Mate]

🇰🇷 Naked Dining *

🇯🇵 Doublemints *

🇯🇵 (Ossan's Love) (real estate)

🇭🇰 [Ossan's Love]

Law Office

🇹🇼 Plus and Minus *

🇹🇭 Laws of Attraction *

Restaurant/Coffee Shop/Bar

🇰🇷 Ocean Likes Me *

🇰🇷 Choco Milk Shake

🇰🇷 The Tasty Florida

🇰🇷 (Unintentional Love Story) *

🇰🇷 To My Star * (1 & 2)

🇰🇷 All the Liquors *

🇰🇷 Happy Merry Ending *

🇹🇼 [Be Loved In House: I Do] *

🇹🇼 Plus and Minus *

🇹🇼 [My Tooth Your Love] *

🇹🇼 [DNA Says Love You]

🇹🇭 [Coffee Melody] *

🇹🇭 [Moonlight Chicken]

🇹🇭 [What Zabb Man!]

🇻🇳 [You Are Ma Boy]

🇻🇳 [My Lascivious Boss]

🇹🇭 Laws of Attraction *

🇹🇭 (Bake Me Please)

🇹🇭 [609 Bedtime Story] *

🇹🇼 [VIP Only] *

Other Shop/Service

🇯🇵 Minato Shouji Coin Laundry (laundromat)

🇹🇼 Plus and Minus * (dry cleaner)

🇹🇭 Love in the Air * (mechanic)

🇰🇷 [Oh! Boarding House]

🇹🇭 [My Ride] * (moterbike taxi)

🇰🇷 Naked Dining* (grocery store)

🇹🇭 Pit Babe (race car team)

Artist/Artist's Shop

🇰🇷 (Unintentional Love Story) * (ceramics)

🇹🇼 [Be Loved In House: I Do] * (jewelry/metalworking)

🇯🇵 Utsukushii Kare Eternal* (photographer)

TV/Film/Idol Industry

🇹🇭 War of Y

🇹🇭 [House of Stars]

🇹🇭 [Show Me Love]

🇰🇷 (The Director Who Buys Me Dinner)

🇹🇭 (Vice Versa)

🇹🇭 (Love Stage)

🇯🇵 (Love Stage)

🇰🇷 To My Star * (1 & 2)

🇹🇭 Lovely Writer *

🇰🇷 Individual Circumstances *

🇹🇭 [Paint with Love] *

🇯🇵 I Became the Main Role of a BL

🇯🇵 Utsukushii Kare Eternal *

Music/Idol Industry

🇰🇷 Happy Merry Ending *

🇰🇷 Ocean Likes Me *

🇰🇷 [Wish You]

🇹🇭 [Coffee Melody] *

🇻🇳 [You Are Ma Boy]

🇯🇵 Kabe-Koji-Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to be Recognized *

🇹🇭 [609 Bedtime Story] *

Journalism

🇯🇵 Candy Color Paradox

🇯🇵 My Personal Weatherman *

Publishing Industry/Writers

🇰🇷 Happy Ending Romance

🇰🇷 Individual Circumstances *

🇯🇵 The Novelist/The Pornographer series

🇹🇭 Lovely Writer *

🇰🇷 [First Love, Again]

🇹🇼 [VIP Only] *

Manga/Manwha Artists/Illustrators

🇯🇵 Kabe-Koji-Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to be Recognized *

🇰🇷 Oh! My Assistant

🇯🇵 Jack o' Frost

🇯🇵 My Personal Weatherman *

Medical

🇹🇭 (Dear Doctor I'm Coming for Soul)

🇹🇼 [My Tooth Your Love] *

🇹🇭 [Manner of Death]

🇹🇭 [Physical Therapy]

🇹🇭 (My Ride)*

🇻🇳 [Mr. Cinderella]

🇻🇳 [Want to See You]

🇹🇭 [Triage]

🇹🇭 [Sky In Your Heart] *

Mafia/Criminal Underworld

🇹🇭 KinnPorsche

🇹🇭 [Love Syndrome]

🇹🇭 [Unforgotten Night]

🇹🇭 [Chains of Heart] *

🇹🇭 [3 Will Be Free]

🇹🇭 [Golden Blood]

🇹🇼 [HIStory 3: Trapped]

🇹🇭 Never Let Me Go (debated whether to include these children, but ultimately decided they work. still unclear on whether it's mafia or a legit business)

🇹🇭 To Sir With Love *

🇯🇵 Doublemints *

����🇷 Long Time No See

🇹🇭 (My Dear Gangster Oppa)

Sex Work

🇹🇭 [Playboyy]

🇯🇵 The Shortest Distance is Round

Debt Collection

🇹🇭 [Even Sun]

🇰🇷 [You Make Me Dance]

Park Rangers/Teachers (the "Other" category, but that's what's in it so far)

🇹🇭 [1000 Stars]

🇹🇭 [Sky In Your Heart] *

🇻🇳 [TienTai Bromance]

🇹🇭 [Chains of Heart] * (this is based on the MDL synopsis, so I don't know if it's accurate, but I was so tickled to have two shows in the park/forest ranger category I had to include it)

[saturniandevil]

February 2024 Important Dates

AKA my notes on The Astrology Podcast's February forecast.

January recap: With Pluto now in Aquarius we've got new technological developments: "flying taxis" going to market, Google's new AI set to release around Jupiter in Gemini, and the first commercially available see-through LED screens. In Saturn-Neptune news, Apple's new VR operating system is being advertised as "spatial computing." Aquarius loves to experiment for the joy of discovery--even if society ends up rejecting some of these new projects. Austin points out many prophetic "near future" fiction stories came out under Jupiter-Saturn in Libra in the 1980s, which was a preview of those conjunctions occurring in air signs for the next 200 years (we had the last earth ones a few years ago). Saturn-Neptune also connotes widespread political misinformation (as it did in 2016)--we've got AI deepfake videos of political figures being used not just for humor, but also to try and sway voters in the New Hampshire Primary. Another notable Saturn in Pisces story is the restriction of the Red Sea trade route and subsequent rerouting of cargo ships along global trade routes. The Mars-Saturn conjunction in Pisces in March will likely show major developments in maritime combat or disasters.

We enter the month fresh off Pluto's ingress into Aquarius. There's a lot of energy in the sign this month, some good and some difficult. The faster-moving planets will be joining Pluto in Aquarius specifically for the first time since the 18th century, giving us the first tastes of what the next 20 years will bring for society at large. For personal charts, what house does Aquarius fall in?

February 5th - Mercury enters Aquarius, conjoins Pluto This is the first planet to join the Sun and Pluto in Aquarius. Venus and Mars will follow this ingress-conjunction pattern later this month--and the new Moon is in Aquarius. Mercury-Pluto brings up information and power such as classified document leaks, as well as hidden pathways or getting lost in the labyrinth. Determined efforts to delve into deeper truths can pay off, but we can also become obsessed with something no one else can see. Other significations include taboo subjects, with science and social rules being especially important in Aquarius, and negating ideas we once thought were true. Paranoia and manipulations also abound with Pluto-Mercury. In Aquarius we'll see these issues take light especially through new technologies. In general Pluto magnifies small things to their biggest extremes--something microscopic may change society irrevocably, etc. The PRC has a timed chart with Aquarius rising with the Moon in Aquarius, and indeed has been leading the world in uses & development of certain new technologies, which in turn has brought power struggles with other major players in those fields.

February 6th - Fortunate date (not pictured)

Set at about 8:00AM local time, this chart should give you 11° Pisces rising. The Ascendant ruler Jupiter is in the 3rd house in a day chart, emphasizing communication and other 3rd house topics. The Moon in early Capricorn applies to a trine with Jupiter, bonifying her. The Jupiter-Saturn sextile is emphasized here; while Saturn is very close to the Ascendant, he's more cooperative in a day chart, and is being received by Jupiter (is in Jupiter's sign), who he's trining. Thus Chris predicts it'll be a good balance of consolidation and growth. This does have Mars in the 11th house in a day chart, so it's not great for matters involving friends, groups, and alliances. But it is good for communicating, neighborhood, education/learning, weekly schedule, siblings, and starting a daily practice (Saturn will help us establish routines).

February 9th - Aquarius New Moon

At 20° of Aquarius, the closest configuration is a square from Uranus (19♉), connoting a disruptive or unexpected component. This is also the first Aquarius New Moon with Pluto present--Pluto will be weighing in on all monthly meetings in Aquarius for now. We can expect concerns around independence and freedom, but also emotional volatility. "How do I break from this pattern?" asks the rebel, knowing it'll be better than keeping things as they are. Mercury also applies to a square with a Jupiter during this time, expanding communications & bringing (possibly excessive) optimism. The Jupiter-Saturn sextile that hung over much of January weighs in as well, balancing our drives for both growth and consolidation.

February - 12th/13th Mars enters Aquarius Soon after he conjoins Pluto.

February 14th - Mars conjunct Pluto This is the first hard aspect since the square circa October 7th. There are going to be about 10 of these conjunctions during Pluto's trip through Aquarius. Mars connotes military operations, while Pluto brings underground groups and struggles. We've been having power dynamics stirred up in the Capricorn parts of our charts the past 20 years, and now this moves to our Aquarius house/area of life. Possessiveness and excessive force are also connoted by this planetary combination; exercise caution and take special care not to go too far. Austin describes this feeling as a "struggle against annihilation," even when we're not actually fighting for our lives. It'll take self-control and grace to navigate this Valentine's day well.

February 16th - Venus enters Aquarius Soon after she will conjoin Pluto, and later Mars.

February 17th - Venus conjunct Pluto The intensity, obsessions, and making mountains of molehills brought up by other planets' Pluto contacts will now show itself in the realm of relationships and social interactions. We get the extremes of affection and its negation with Venus-Pluto. This can be a good time for experimenting in the arts: we're getting a new movie based off Frankenstein, which was published under Pluto in Aquarius. Much of the novel is from the perspective of no the doctor but his experiment--when are we our own lab rats?

February 18th - Sun enters Pisces

February 22nd - Venus conjunct Mars Unfortunately Mars, Aquarius, and Pluto do not bode well for Valentine's-adjacent activities. Some positive connotations include magnetic allure and deep, passionate connections with others, extreme vulnerability and devotion. However, keep watchful for power struggles and manipulation in relationships and attraction. Ask yourself, "is this healthy or is this too far?" and try to set healthy boundaries. (Though the answers may be clearer in hindsight.) Look out for hastiness in relationships, jealous and aggression in love, or attraction to drama or conflict. Try to balance passion with reason, communicate clearly, and express that energy through creative outlets.

February 23rd - Mercury enters Pisces

February 24th - Virgo Full Moon

Immediately after its exact opposition to Saturn, the Moon applies to one with Saturn, who as a matter of course is also applying to Saturn by conjunction (pictured above is the Moon between these oppositions). Austin describes this as a magnified check-in with Saturn, as we're approaching the 1-year mark for Saturn in Pisces (early March). How have you been bearing having to swim with weights on? Or maybe you've hooked something powerful on your fishing line--how will you reel it in? Chris says this lunation highlights tension in the Virgo part of our charts as well, shedding light that may help us identify solutions. We have a Sun-Mercury-Saturn conjunction a few days later that will bring our attention back to Pisces.

February 26th/27th - Mars square Jupiter Jupiter wants to help, but something's getting in his way. We can also think about taking risks, leaving our comfort zone, and increased energy/enthusiasm. However, as Mars is overcoming Jupiter (earlier in the zodiac), traditional sources would indicate that the warlike side of things will gain the upper hand over peaceful Jupiter. Mars in Aquarius connotes rogue or outsider forces, while Jupiter is privileged by stability in Taurus. Keep a lookout for global trade points and major conflicts, which will likely see developments around this time. Some positives of Mars-Jupiter include increased motivation, taking bold actions, and meeting ambitious goals. On the flipside is impulsiveness, overconfidence, and recklessness. Mars-Jupiter is willing to take a risk. Sometimes, it's better not to know exactly what you're getting into so you don't get overwhelmed by a monumental task; other times, it doesn't work out. This is the placement of the intrepid explorer.

February 28th - Moon, Mercury, and Saturn conjunction in Pisces This occurs at 9 degrees of Pisces, and each planet applies to a sextile with Pisces in the following days. Jupiter brings us another management check-in after Saturn's: how have we been balancing growth with consolidation? Jupiter's going to pick up speed and zoom out of Taurus later this year, moving away from this balanced position to a difficult square with Saturn. We've been balancing weight with buoyancy, but once in Gemini Jupiter forms more of helicopter to Saturn's submarine--vehicles that can't be combined. With Saturn and Mercury (and the Sun shedding light), we'll likely see changes in the status of maritime trade and travel. From Saturn to Jupiter we may see something go from being stuck to unstuck.

As we wrap up the month, we've got some Pisces planets approaching Neptune while Jupiter approaches Uranus. And don't forget, we've got 29 days in February this year!