#I got tired of forgetting things on the list so I made it so I can see it and others can if they're looking

[noonaishere]

All of the Times Ateez Has Been Plagiarized (That I Know Of, So Far)

For legal purposes, these are all allegations.

So, I’m making this little essay/list/thing partly for myself (because I know *I* keep forgetting all of these instances) and partly because I always see incomplete lists going around and it annoys me a little that some of the people on this list seem to have been forgotten for whatever reason. Also, a lot of lists I’ve seen aren’t in chronological order? Which I just find odd. I’m going to try and include as many links as I can to articles, videos, etc, and I’ll be including pictures from them here, just to make it easier for you lovely readers.

(Also, if you think I'me being biased towards koreaboo articles, it's only because they embedded the tweets they used correctly, so they actually click through. Other sites I looked at, either the tweets show an error, or they're static images of low quality.)

Here's the incomplete article that inspired this.

So here is the list of:

All of the Times Ateez Has Been Plagiarized (That I Know Of, So Far)

---2020

MONOPOLY, HOLY MOLY – 2020 (Sept)

I can’t find anything about this artist, it seems to be only one person so maybe they’re just releasing it for fun? They plagiarized Treasure: Epilogue Action To Answer (and not even well, if you look at the shape of the black bar closely).

They did end up apologizing and changing the cover to something else, so at least they have more integrity than some of the other people on this list.

.

---2021

Ammonit, Reverse – 2021 (Oct)

Another small artist or group, Ammonit plagiarized the style of the Fever series album covers. Like Monopoly, Ammonit also changed their cover later. Though I haven’t seen whether or not they issued an apology, at least they changed it.

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TRINITY, Life Ain’t Over – 2021 (Dec)

For their 2021 release of *Life Ain’t Over* Thai three-member group TRINITY copied Ateez’s Deja Vu photoshoot (the one member even having the same shirt as wooyoung), and their Fireworks mv. I’m actually not sure if they had ever acknowledged that they were being accused of plagiarism or not or apologized when I tried searching. (I thought someone had made a video comparing the two, but I can’t seem to find it.)

Now we get into Ateez’s worst year for plagiarism (so far)...

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---2022

Soyeon, Sun – 2022 (Feb)

This is probably one of the biggest ones to happen, I won’t lie. I remember the indignation of Atiny, the disappointment of (G)-IDLE fans, and general disappointment and confusion by Knets.

This was the finale of the survival show My Teenage Girl, and the song in the video, Sun, was written for the contestants by (G)-IDLE member, Soyeon. The chorus sounds like a pitched up version of the chorus from Ateez’s Wave.

Sportskeeda article

Koreaboo article

At first people wondered if it was maybe a sample, but it wasn’t. To sum up the initial discussion:

Then on Feb 28th it got weird, because suddenly EDEN-ary (Ateez’s production team) had a credit on the song on Bugs (though this wasn’t changed on other platforms). 

Also on the 28th, KQ issued a statement after receiving reports from fans about the similarity:

“On the 27th, the Challenge Team’s stage, called ‘SUN’, was broadcast for the first round of the FINALs on My Teenage Girl. Afterward, we received multiple reports through the company’s official channel and mails from webmasters that the song’s chorus melody was similar to ATEEZ’s ‘WAVE’, which was released in 2019. As the company was monitoring the related issue, they discovered that the company’s producing team, Eden-ary, was listed in the credits for ‘SUN.’ We want to clarify that we did not have any discussions before with the company or Eden-ary. In hopes of respecting creators and their unique works and in hopes that any misinformation can be corrected, we ask everyone to refrain from making unreasonable assumptions regarding the issue. Thank you.”

So they did not have discussions with CUBE about the use of Wave prior to the premier of Sun on MBC. 

CUBE then released a statement: 

“Hello, this is CUBE Entertainment. We would like to explain what happened on MBC’s My Teenage Girl regarding the song ‘SUN’ and (G)I-DLE’s Soyeon. First, we sincerely apologize for the concerns caused by the production of the song ‘SUN.’ Following the broadcast, through monitoring the episode, we recognized some of the similarities in the two melodies. Our artist immediately reached out to the original composer to explain the situation and apologize. In this process, especially since we admitted the similarities, we decided the song credits should be edited and properly given to the original composer. Soyeon discussed this option with the original composer and we asked the producers of the show to implement the credit change.”

So their statement seems to be that they realized the similarities after, and that Soyeon contacted EDEN-ary and then added them to the song credits. Their statement continues:

“An hour before the song’s release, however, the original composer’s agency declined our suggestion to be credited. We asked the producers of the show to undo the credit change but the change could not be applied and the song became released as-is.”

So, an hour before the show aired, they called up KQ, KQ declined a song credit (I would guess because it sort of made it look like a collaboration and let CUBE/Soyeon off the hook for plagiarism), and it was too late to change it.

Soyeon’s statement is a little different: 

“After the episode aired, I thought I should apologize to the original composer for some of the similarities that have been suggested. So I got in touch with the original composer, explained what happened, and apologized for it.”

In that, in her recounting of events, her apology took place *after* the show aired.

Koreaboo article

As one person observed:

So yeah, kind of a Grade-A Mess.

After everything died down, CUBE registered the song copyright and it seemed like comments regarding the controversy were disappearing? No clue what that’s about.

Koreaboo article

.

NMIXX, OO – 2022 (Feb)

Welcome to: A Bigger Mess.

Koreaboo article

Someone at JYP is a BIG Ateez fan, I think. There are similarities between the look of their mvs (NMIXX even having some locations be the same as Ateez’s mvs), but there’s similarities with lyrics, graphic design choices, and lore. Basically, the only thing that isn’t similar is their sound.

The studio DIGIPEDI has worked with Ateez before and worked on NMIXX’s O.O video, but Illusion (the mv that NMIXX’s debut seems to mirror most strongly) is not one that DIGIPEDI worked on.

Now, while it’s not as if another group can’t have a pirate ship, can’t have a dreamy landscape - in fact, the group Treasure has a flying ship and a dreamy landscape in some of their mvs - but, as someone observed:

(I apologize for having to screencap a tweet from an article, but Mr. Muskrat has made his website so unusable that I can’t even find the original tweet.)

Even if the production team at JYP somehow happened on the same concept and look that Ateez has used for years, it would still be on them to realize, “Oops, this is too similar, we need to change something before people think we’re copying,” and then change the things that were too similar so they didn’t look like they had no ideas. Marketing research is a thing that companies that make stuff (even music) do as a prelude to starting a project, so I don't understand why it seems like JYP's team didn't do any.

Like, Charles Dickens had books where people were arrested for stealing bread, Les Miserables has a main character arrested for stealing bread, the Disney movie Aladdin has a character almost arrested for stealing bread; having the action “someone stealing bread” doesn’t mean that all of those creators have stolen the idea from each other, the idea exists as an idea a lot of people have. Just like flying ships and flying whales (Gojira, anybody?) and pirates and dreamlands aren’t owned by anybody - not even Ateez - it’s when you use all the ideas someone else has already used, and you use them in a way that looks JUST like the person or people you got the ideas from that it starts to become a problem. You can take inspiration from someone or something else, but you can’t just take That Thing and make it “2 inches to the left,” you know? For instance, I might read Lord of the Rings and want to write a book with elves and dwarves and a terrifyingly evil bad guy with a ring - those are all things in other stories that no one owns - but I CAN’T write a story where a group of people take a ring once owned by a terrifyingly evil bad guy and bring it to a volcano to throw it in, I have to write a different story where the ring does something else and the elves and dwarves maybe won’t even work together and there’s a different type of battle, and the bad guy looks a different way and maybe isn’t even a guy, and the world doesn’t look like Middle Earth-- and definitely I can’t use hobbits because they’re legally owned by the Tolkien estate because they were his original idea (that’s why they’re called “halflings” in DND, because of legal reasons.)

Anyway, back to normalcy. Please direct your attention to the lyrics portion of this video:

There’s a lot of similarities with their lyrics as well, so I don’t think NMIXX’s look kind of being “Ateez but 2 inches to the left” is as coincidental as some people wanted others to believe.

(PS: this is not me hating on the girls in NMIXX at all, they seem talented and nice. This is about one of the Big Three companies having a production team that doesn't need to copy others but seem to have done so anyway. But, since their look and even their sound seems to have changed a whole hell of a lot since debut, it seems like JYP has sort of abandoned NMIXX’s look at debut?)

.

Eltee Skhillz, Odg – 2022 (Mar)

(Sorry for the quality.)

I don’t even have to say anything, the evidence is right there. 

I think I have a moral obligation to make the joke, “His name is Eltee Skhillz [elite skills], but the only thing he’s skilled at is not having his own ideas.” (I think I’m allowed to be salty, he really went frame by frame as he copied.)

Eltee Skhillz (or someone in his team) put in the youtube description of the mv, “Partly inspired by ATEEZ "The Real" and "Say my name" music video”. Please see my earlier tangent about how inspiration and copying are not the same.

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Vata, New Thing choreo – 2022 (Oct)

This accusation was about a point of choreography. On the dance competition show Street Man Fighter, We Dem Boyz leader Vata performed a dance move that looked pretty similar to Atinys:

This is straight up the Driving move from Ateez’s first comeback, Say My Name. It’s in between a “starting a bike” move and a “getting off a bike move”, but the move in between is the SMN Driving move. 

Interestingly enough, there’s a moment in Street Man Fighter where We Dem Boyz is unhappy that it seems that another group has copied their choreography, and they say, “They copied about four counts,” of the choreo, from 1:48 - 1:54:

I WISH I could find this other video, where they were in the middle of a dance battle on the show, and Vata copied another groups move. The other group got annoyed and started arguing and Vata and his group said, “If it’s three beats, we’ll consider it copied.” Meaning: if someone does 1 oe 2 beats of someone else's move, it's not copied, but 3 or more beats is. I just found that so funny because Vata insists he didn’t copy the SMN move, but it’s 3 or 4 beats, both of which match with WDB's (conflicting) arguments for why they didn't copy other teams during Street Man Fighter.

(If anyone finds that clip, please let me know. I saw it around the time everything was happening but I can’t find it now. It was sort of dark and the two groups were in kind of a tight ring as the members of each were dance battling and the camera angle was from higher up.) 

During the show the groups were allowed to “vandalize” each other’s rooms earlier in the season, and other groups wrote some interesting things on We Dem Boyz flag: 

From this Koreaboo article:

(Written on the paper) “Melvin copycat ㅋㅋㅋ” and “JBLAZE copycat” (the comment circled with the hearts) “JBLAZE copycat” “This is SMF but they said they’re going to do Street Boy Fighter after!!” “Tristan copycat” “We Dem Kid” “Some people might think you made Fear of God” “Some people might think you also made Essentials” “If you mess with us” (knife) “You need to practice dancing. ‘You should dance the same dance at least, you guys are a team'” “Vata [cut off] Melvin copycat”

JBLAZE (along with Anze Skrube and Josh Smith) are the choreographers who created the dance for Say My Name (Anze credited Josh with creating the Drive move). Coincidentally, Melvin Timtim is another choreographer who also worked with Ateez, so that’s kind of interesting that the other groups accused WDB of copying him as well. It seems as if Vata has a well known history (in the dance community) of copying other choreographers.

Anze Skrube took to Instagram to reblog some posts regarding the situation (there was more than just this, he was popping off for days) and talked about it on his Stories:

(“I thought you are a friend of San” is in reference to San and Vata having done a challenge together a few weeks before and KQ uploading it to social media.)

Allkpop article

Mnet also coddled Vata, not taking a stance, but saying "We are in the midst of arranging a position while respecting the situation of the artist (Vata) as much as possible." Which fans HATED, because - if anyone needs to be respected here - it’s the people who were stolen from, not the one doing the stealing. (What the *fuck* Mnet? Why are you like this? This is why kpop fans use a snake emoji when they talk about you and how shady you are.)

Koreaboo article

Vata made an apology:

“This is Vata. I thought this would be a cold wind that would breeze by, but I am writing this to stop the misunderstandings. When I first heard the song, I thought of the wilderness and so I made the intro of riding a horse or motorcycle. That’s why in the beginning, there is a motion of kicking to start the engine and a motion of getting off the bike. These are parts of one move that transition from one to the other. I think the choreography its being compared to has a different transition and means something different entirely. As someone who loves the dance culture, I believe it is at its best when the artist and dancer respect one another. It saddens me to see that this isn’t taking place. Regardless of the reason, I apologize to viewers of Street Man Fighter and to those who root for We Dem Boyz for any controversy that had occurred on my behalf. I will repay you by putting on a better stage.”

Koreaboo article

I just have to say: this really reads like one of those youtube apologies, where the youtuber deflects and doesn’t want to be held accountable for their actions. He also seems to say that Wooyoung and Anze are being disrespectful by calling him out. (And he even said "I was hoping this would blow over" I don't think you're supposed to say that in your "apology" even if you were thinking it, homes."

Because, PS!: Wooyoung called him out with the “biting” motion during a stage at Kcom Saudi Arabia:

And here are some other shorts that have clips from Anze and his IG:

Short 1

Short 2

While everyone was doing WDB's dance on tiktok, San did the LAW challenge instead (which I feel is a better song anyway, but that's just me) and it seemed that, aside from Wooyoung's call out, and San's snub, KQ was not commenting on it.

Atiny, meanwhile, streamed Say My Name and made art about respecting artists (what Vata had NOT done to Ateez). There were hashtags and SMN challenges and tweets galore:

The thing that made this whole incident REALLY strange, is that the dance Vata had plagiarized the Drive move for was for the kpop artist Zico… who is managed under KQ. So, when the music video for Zico’s song, New Thing, came out, it lacked the drive move at the beginning:

Dance Performance video

So all the people trying to say that it wasn’t copied or tried to defend Vata (I saw someone say they would defend him because he’s more famous than Ateez… please lick boots somewhere else) didn’t matter because… Zico and KQ thought it was too similar to let it slide.

(Oh! Also, Carats, EXO-Ls, Shawols, Ahgases, Monbebes, ARMYs, ELFs, and Inspirits were spotting tweeting on Atinys’ behalf, so I would like to personally thank our friends who stan other groups for their help and support. The kpop world needs some love more often than not, because we are not each other’s enemy… capitalism is our enemy.)

(Love you, bbys 💖💖💖)

.

---2023

Super Dragon, Revolution – 2023 (Feb)

I hate trying to look this group up because the SEO for their name is GOD awful. Like you could not pick two more common words to name something. It’s also the name of several restaurants, the co-creator of a California wrestling promotion, and - of course - part of a title for a Dragon Ball series.

Maybe that’s why this is probably the incident I see the least. Maybe it just gets lost in the SEO sauce and no one even sees it so it’s just flying under the radar? Which is weird, because it’s like a combination of the TRINITY incident and the incident that will come next. A Frankensteinian amalgamation of a lack of imagination, if you will. 

But oh, oho! I have twitter-- I don’t have twitter, I have *a friend who has twitter,* and she messaged me very early in the morning on February 21st to send me a bunch of tweets of this band:

It’s the sound of Wonderland and the look of Fireworks.

The two songs played at the same time:

The thing that - I don’t know if I find it the funniest or if I hate it the most - but the thing is… there’s such a *severe* LACK of imagination. I’m inspired by things all the time, people, places, things, any kind of nouns, inspire me… but like I said earlier, there’s a difference between writing a story with elves and dwarves and just rewriting Lord of the Rings and pretending it’s your own. And this is just a poor man’s version of Wonderland.

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3WICH, Kicking Your Face – 2023 (Sept)

On the Taiwanese music competition show, Music Maker, group 3WICH had a song that didn’t just seem similar to Ateez’s Guerrilla, but seemed to be almost a carbon copy:

If you listen to the whole song, it’s literally just been skinned so they could put new lyrics. Originally, 3WICH and their composer, Jhen F, did a livestream where they denied there was any plagiarism, and at first the song had been left up pending investigation, but was soon taken down until the copyright issues could be clarified. The president of the TV station that ran Music Maker, Huang Liang-hsun, made a statement:

(translated by @ananmiyabi630 on twitter (I think))

Koreaboo article

This story is still developing as I write this, but it seems to have affected the president of the TV channel Music Maker is on a lot:

If he goes, I hope he has fun. 3WICH and Jhen F can sit in the parking lot and think about what they did while they listen to the stadium scream “Break the WALLLL!” at the end of the concert.

.

------

So yeah, those are All of the Times Ateez Has Been Plagiarized (That I Know Of, So Far). I hope you enjoyed all of this mess, and maybe people won’t try to plagiarize them so much, now that they’re a bigger group and it’s more apparent that people are paying attention to them.

Idk.

Probably not.

I’ll update if I see any new ones in the future.

[redwingstan]

"you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with bucky please!

debts paid - bucky x reader insert

author's note; thanks for your request, anon! hope you like it! (I may make a part 2 with this one!)

"So, what are we?"

Bucky grunted, a response you got when he didn't know what to say, or when he was just playfully annoyed. This time you couldn't tell which one it was.

"What happened to not asking questions?" He said as his back remained to you. He was hunched over the balcony, looking below at the bustling streets filled with people heading to their destinations.

"The same thing that happened to no secrets," you mumbled, shoulders dropping as if the miniscule book you held in your hands weighed a ton.

There was a rule you both had agree upon back in the day—a two for one special that kept your relationship—friendship, whatever—thriving: If you were both honest from the jump, there was no need to ask questions, no need to harbor secrets.

Looks like you both were breaking the rules tonight.

Bucky did a double-take as you stood next to him and nudged the little black book against his bicep. It took him a second or two to realize what it was. When he did, he took it before as if you hadn't already read the contents inside.

You sighed and looked straight ahead at the skyline. "I don't know whether to be relieved that you didn't forget about me," You sighed. "...or offended that I'm the last person on that list."

Granted, you didn't even bother skimming the list hard enough to recognize any of the names. You didn't even know what the list meant. You only managed to see your name—your first initial and last name scrawled at the very bottom— and that was enough for you to confront him about it.

Gently, he settled his hand on yours as he shoved the book into his back pocket.

"You weren't supposed to find this—"

"To be fair, I didn't have to go looking for it. You don't have much furniture."

Bucky's apartment was desolate save for a tv, and whatever bundle lay in the corner of what was supposed to be the living room. No furniture, not even a coffee table was in sight. The book happened to be laying on his makeshift bed made of disheveled blanket and jacket.

Bucky sighed as you pulled your hand away from his. You turned to head inside, but he made another quick attempt at your wrist. This time with a more firm grip. You spun around, though made no effort to close the space between both of you. Bucky took it upon himself to step forward, his grip on your wrist transferring to your hand. His thumb ran over the back of it in remorse.

"Okay," he said with a heavy sigh, eyes softening as he looked down at you. "I'm sorry. I know I should've been more honest. I know I should've found you sooner." He lifted your hand and gave it a soft kiss before lowering it. "Forgive me? Please."

"Under one condition," you said, appearing unphased on the outside in regards to his gesture of affection. He knew it was one of the things that worked to settle your nerves.

He lifted a brow in curiosity before lowering your hands, though he didn't let go of them.

"I get to ask three questions," you stated, chin lifted in defiance.

"One," he argued.

"Two," you countered, taking a step forward with a subtle grin on your lips.

Bucky's brows furrowed. "One."

You narrowed your eyes in defeat. "Then my question still stands." Your eyes traced his tired face. He looked beaten, like he had gone more than hundred rounds with the world. The bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep. The rough stubble crawling across his jaw made him look more rugged. His hair was cut short—a stark contrast to the longer dark locks you were used to. Six years had certainly done a number on him.

With a sigh of your own, you gave his hand a squeeze. "What are we, Bucky?"

He groaned in internally, though it wasn't out of annoyance, you knew. He wasn't the best at talking about his feelings, but you never held that against him. At least after years of not seeing him on account of The Blip and a year after, you believed you were owed an explanation to this question. A question you had been holding on your tongue since the moment he told you he might not be coming back.

His gloved thumbs traced your hands as he gently tugged you towards his chest. "You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it," he said.

You grinned. "I do," you said tilting your chin upwards with a lifted brow.

With dark eyes, the infamous Winter Soldier stroked your cheek. He placed a kiss on your temple.

"I can't be the only one to say what we are," he sighed, "but I know that you're one of the only people I can trust, and losing you again would be another devastation I wouldn't be able to bear." He stroked your cheek gently, eyes looking everywhere but at you. Your fingertips migrated over his stubble and guided his eyes back to your face. The Winter Soldier gave you a look of surprise before his lips settled into a subtle smile.

He kissed your temple once more.

"Does that answer your question, doll?"

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! Requests are open!!! Can I get a smutty Eddie fic, where the reader is pregnant and they have sex, and it ends up inducing her labor. I feel like after the initial panic of "it's happening! it's happening!" Eddie would be so smug about it lol

I love this. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

No idea how the process of labor is so this might be very unrealistic

⚠️smut, daddy and momma nicknames

A bit of daddy's help

Y/N had been pregnant for a very long nine months. Her belly was huge and she could barely move around. At first she loved being pregnant, but now she wanted that baby out.

Eddie loved her pregnant glow, and he didn't want it to end. He loved helping her and being right beside her. He adored that she was growing their baby and he was happy it was with her.

He did feel bad for her. He knew how much it tore her body down, and how tired it made her. He did his best help. He rubbed her feet, he helped her walk, and he'd hold her stomach just to give her some relief. He'd do anything she asked.

~~~

"Still no baby," she grumbled as she wobbled out of the bathroom. "Spicy food? No go."

Eddie sat on the bed, with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, baby." He said, she made her way on the bed. He held the blanket up as she slid in.

She sighed tiredly as the small movement sucked all the energy out of her. Eddie softly rubbed her stomach as he tried to soothe her.

"He'll come when he's ready" he said but her eyes snapped to him with a glare.

"He's on my time and I want him out now!" She growled.

Eddie tried to bite back his smile as he looked at her annoyed face.

"I know," he said, he leaned in and pecked her lips softly. He continued to rub her stomach, watching as her breathing calmed. "Was there anything else to try?" He asked. They have been through most of the list the doctor gave them but he wasn't sure what was left.

"There's one more thing," she said as she smiled. Her hand rested on top of his that was on her stomach.

"what's that?" Eddie asked

"Sex"

Eddie felt like his prayers were answered. A huge smile broke across his face.

"On it"

She laughed as he immediately stripped off his shirt. His tattooed chest came into sight as she felt herself already getting warm.

He leaned back down and held her face as he softly pressed his lips against hers. The kiss started sweet and gentle, but it didn't last long. Her hands were in his hair as he deepened the kiss. He kept one hand on her face as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth. She moaned as she felt his tongue working against hers. He let his other hand wander down her body, slipping underneath her night tank top as he rubbed her belly.

The more he touched her, the more the kiss got hungry. Eddie having a huge pregnancy kink wasn't a shock to either of them. He waited years to fuck her without a condom, to fill her up with his cum. He craved to watch her belly grow and knowing it tied them together for life. He loved that anyone would see her on the street and know she was owned.

He pulled away for a few seconds before he kissed her again. Her left hand worked down his neck and down his back. He shivered as he felt her wedding ring tickle his skin, a reminder she was his for life.

He moaned as her tongue took charge of the kiss, and her right hand yanked on his hair as she pulled away.

"Ready to show me what you got, Daddy?" she purred

Eddie shivered at the name, his cock twitching in his boxers.

"Did you forget I'm the one responsible for the noise complaints? For filling you up so fucking good you got pregnant?" He challenged, a smirk on his face as he felt her body shudder.

He took his time to strip off her clothes. Removing her tank top and groaning at the sight of her swollen breasts and nipples. He reached forward, gently kissing the skin and flicking her nipples with his tongue. She moaned at the feeling, her hands in his hair. He moved down to her stomach, his big hands rubbing her bump as he kissed all around.

He didn't stay there long, removing his lips to strip the rest of her clothes, her hands losing the grip of his hair. He softly trailed up her legs, teasing her as he made it up to her thighs. He slowly trailed down her shorts. He enjoyed how she whimpered as she grew impatient. Then he tugged down her underwear, smiling at the sight of her puffy cunt.

"Gorgeous," he pissed as his lips softly kissed her clit. She jolted and her hands went back to his hair.

He didn't spend too much time between her legs. He knew both of them were so turned on that foreplay wasn't needed. But he still had to have a little taste. His mouth sucked on her clit as his fingers slipped inside of her.

Her head was thrown back as his skilled tongue and fingers worked together. She gripped at his hair and wanted to lift her hips but her body was too heavy. He made the most of it, his head twisting back and forth as he let his tongue touch everywhere.

She panted when he came back up for air. His chin soaked in her wetness, she clawed at his chest from the sight. He wiped his mouth and slammed his lips against hers, his fingers slipping out of her.

"Ready?" He breathed out, his body on top of her as he panted. His brown eyes look into hers for an honest answer.

"Yes," she said without a beat.

Eddie smiled and took off his boxers, lazily tossing them anywhere. He helped her turn on her side, then he went behind her. His lips were on her neck as he lifted her leg and placed it over his hip.

He listened to her sounds as he trailed his hand down and rubbed her swollen clit, she was so sensitive that she felt everything intensely. He rubbed her clit then slipped his pulsing cock inside of her.

He let out a loud moan as he continued to slip inside of her, her hands gripped the pillows as he sat fully inside of her. He was slow and soft at first, making sure she was comfortable. His left hand was under her head and his right played with her clit.

She loved feeling his hard chest against her back, the feeling of it slamming against her with each thrust. She could feel her eyes in the back of her head from feeling his hot breath against her neck. His growls and groans right into her ear.

"Love fucking you. Always feel so good wrapped around me," his words were hot in her ear as she shook. She whined at the compliments, her brain mush as she felt her body being taken care of in ways only her husband could.

"Just wanted Daddy's help to have a baby, huh?" He teased, he wished he had another hand available to rub her stomach. He was obsessed.

"Yes," she moaned, "yes, yes" her moans got louder as he went faster.

He could feel his heavy balls slamming against her. He didn't want to be too rough, clenching his jaw as he held himself back. This wasn't about him, it was to help her and help her have an orgasm.

"Need," she whimpered, her arm reaching back to touch him. She let her head wander until she felt his head. She gripped his hair as he growled louder.

"Need to cum?" He asked, his lips on her cheek

His fingers worked faster on her clit as she nodded. "Please,"

"Be daddy's good momma and cum all over me. Cum all over my fat cock,"

His words washed over like her orgasm. She felt that snap in her body as she gasped. The feeling went from head to toe as she came. Eddie fucked her through it, his fingers faster than ever against her clit as her leg shook on his hip.

When her moans turned to whines, he pulled his hand away. Softly thrusting inside of her, slowing down until his hips came to a full stop.

He slipped his soaked, still red and hard cock out of her.

"How was that?" Eddie panted as he moved her leg off of him and turned her on her back. His sweaty back against the mattress, he turned his head to look at her.

"Reminds me why I got pregnant in the first place," she laughed as she turned her head to look at him.

She squirmed as she took in his sweaty hair, his big smile with his perfect teeth, and the way his cheeks scrunched up. Her eyes moved down to his chest as it moved up and down quickly. Down his happy trail, following the line of hair, his dark curls and his thin hips peeked out from the sheet. The rest of his body was covered under the thin material.

"And that look reminds me why I got you pregnant," Eddie's chuckle turned into a moan as she turned her body and attached her lips to his neck.

"I don't feel anything, let's go again." She said against his skin

"Why don't we give it a second? We don't know how long it could take," Eddie explained through quiet groans as her hand began to travel down his chest. He could feel her cold wedding band against his hot skin, making him shiver.

He whined as she pulled her lips away, and her hand stopped right above his hard cock.

"I'm sorry. Are you saying you don't want to have sex again?" Her tone was accusing but she knew her husband. If sex was on the table, he was grabbing a chair.

"I just don't want to overdo it," he said softly

"Yeah I guess you're right," she sighed disappointed. She pulled herself away with a loud huff.

"We've been together for four years and married for one, and now you pick to listen to me?" Eddie asked in disbelief. "Come ride me, momma." He said with a smile as he tossed the sheet off of him.

She squealed with delight as she started to sit up, he helped her love gently and slowly. He eased her body on top of his, rubbing her thighs to soothe her as she got into the right position.

"I knew you wouldn't say no," she said with a smug smile, placing her hands on his hard chest.

"What's that saying?" he teased, his hot lips attaching to her neck. "Momma knows best?" she shuddered as he nipped at her skin.

He shuddered as she grabbed his cock, pumping it inside her hand before she lined his tip with her entrance.

His head fell against her chest as she sunk down on him, she took her hands off his chest. She leaned back and placed her palms on his thighs. The muscular and hairy skin underneath her hands.

He picked up his head as she softly began to move herself on top of him. He moved his left hand to hold her hip, softly encouraging her as she rolled her hips.

His right hand went straight for her bump. He softly rubbed her stomach as his eyes watched her body. Her eyes closed with bliss, the sweat on her hairline and the sweat that dripped down her chest.

Her body was a work of art and it always captivated him.

"So glad I married you," he smiled as he reached forward and cupped her face. Making her press her lips against him, her hands on his chest to balance. He felt her smile into the kiss.

He let her go back into her comfortable position, her hands back on his thighs. He clenched them as she gripped, her nails dug into the skin.

He reached forward and rubbed her clit.

The immediate touch was almost enough to make her cum. She panted hard as she lifted her hips as fast as she could to slam back down.

With a few more touches to her clit and Eddie bucking his hips up, had her cumming all over again.

But this time

She felt more than just cum soaking them, then he followed after. Moaning as he came inside of her.

"Is that?" Eddie asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the sheets.

"Stand me up!" She rushed out.

Eddie was quick to lift up her hips, his cum now adding to the mess below. He panicked as he slipped out from under her, he grabbed her hands and helped her off the bed.

As she stood, more liquid came out of her.

"It's happening!" She panicked, her eyes scared as she looked at her husband.

"Shh, it's okay! Let's get you dressed." He was quick to slip a shirt of his on her and some clean boxers.

He kissed her face, a big smile on his face.

"We're having a baby!" He said in awe

"NOT HERE! GET ME IN THE CAR!" she screamed.

He nodded and dressed himself as fast as he could. He grabbed all the bags and dropped them at the front door.

Then he grabbed her, helping her waddle to the car. He got her placed in the seat as a sharp pain went through her. She grabbed his hand and hissed through her teeth.

"Breath, baby, breathe," he said as he clenched his jaw. Her grip bruised his hand.

"I am BREATHING YOU BASTARD!"

"Where was that tone five minutes ago?" He teased, laughed at her glare, and kissed her nose. He ran back into the house and grabbed the bags.

Then he was off to the hospital

He reached over to let her hold his hand.

"I know you are terrified but I want you to know one thing," he said, his head turned to look at her.

She breathed as she looked over at him.

"I fucked you into labor," he said with a big smirk and wink sent her way.

"Oh shit, now that's all I'm gonna hear for the rest of my life." She said as she rolled her eyes.

~~~

"I can't believe you guys have a baby," Steve said softly as he looked at the small boy in Eddie's arms. Y/N slept in the bed beside them.

"I can't believe she allowed you to have sex with her," Robin laughed, her eyes on the little boy behind Steve

"Jealous?" Eddie snapped, a smirk on his face as she rolled her eyes.

"How did her water break? I want the whole story!" Nancy squealed excitedly.

The big smirk on Eddie's face got even more smug, which no one thought was possible.

"Well, we tried everything the doctor said, and the last thing on the list was all in my hands." The group looked at him confused as he continued to explain. "So, being the amazing husband I am. I turned her on her side and grabbed her left leg to put it on my hip. Then I slipped inside of her. Sweet and slow, she was so we-"

"WE GOT IT!" Dustin yelled as he covered his ears.

"You could have just said sex," Nancy said as she gagged.

"You wanted the whole story!" Eddie defended, "but the first time wasn't enough to induce the labor...or was enough for her." He gave a wink to Steve who rolled his eyes. "So we went at it again, like minutes later. She was all over me." Eddie bragged. "After her second orgasm, that was when she went into labor."

"Can't believe such a disgusting thing led to something beautiful," Dustin said, patiently waiting for his turn to hold the baby.

"Oh Dusty," Eddie laughed, "nothing about it was disgusting. Just you wait." Eddie said as he handed the baby off to Steve. Leaving his hands free to slam down on Dustin's shoulders.

"It'll be the best time of your life," he said as he walked over to her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as she slept.

"You and him for the rest of my life."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[vampzity]

neglectful | FL

“It always goes like this, could’ve predicted it. I’m so naive to think you loved me for me.” — goddess, laufey

pairing: bf! felix x reader

after a rough disagreement with your boyfriend, you can’t help but feel like a terrible parter to him. he does his best to go out his way to show you you’re more than enough but unbeknownst to him, it was already too late.

[warnings]: slight arguing? self-consciousness. this is far from fluff i fear…! angst only hehe

word count: 1.5k

“You just don’t seem to care! All you’ve been doing is pushing me aside and I’m tired.”

You stormed out of the house, completely forgetting the lunch that Felix had packed for you. You’ve had enough of the excuses, of the silence whenever you were right, the “ifs ands and buts.” Felix stood there in disbelief, your plate of breakfast still in his hand as he hoped you would just come back through the door.

Except you wouldn’t, not this time.

There was going to be no more, “letting him off the hook.” Every time you argued, you’d let him have the last word— you’d forgive him so easily and let it go as if it wouldn’t continue again in the future. You were exhausted and you just wanted him to listen.

Felix wasn’t always this way, oh no. He was a completely different person back then, but it just left you with the many wonders of what had changed. When did he become so cold, so distant and why? For some odd reason he didn’t want to talk about his feelings toward you and that bothered you. Relationships should be all about being open with each other, communicating.. he was doing the exact opposite.

The cycle was the same, he’s cold, he’s distant, you comment about it, he brushes it off as nothing and then you argue. With him moving on like it was nothing hours later. It hurt you to see someone who you still cherish so deeply, switch a flip on you unexpectedly.

Felix placed your plate on the table, staring with a blank expression. There wasn’t a single day that you’d go without eating breakfast, especially not before work. It shouldn’t have. bothered him, but it left a heavy weight on his shoulders that he didn’t like. He sat at the table, pushing the food on his own plate around with a fork as his mind raced.

Was he really as neglectful as you made it out to be?

He glanced over to your plate across the table, full and missing your presence. An empty feeling washed over him— it was odd to be eating breakfast without you, as it was something you two have done every morning for the last 2 years. For once, there were left overs. Your untouched leftovers.

A frown painted his face as he got up to clear the table. He searched through the cabinets for a container to save your food in, but to his surprise there was none. How far in the gutter was his mind? Did you ever mention anything about needing more containers before?

Felix glanced around the kitchen, his eyes catching a small list against the fridge. He walked over to it and pulled it down, scanning it for a moment. Milk, eggs, cereal, and there it was.

Storage containers.

“A grocery list, for me?” He tilted his head in confusion, his eyes catching the date of the note.

1/03/25.

That was nearly a whole week and a half ago. A sighed escaped him as he imagined the many times you had told him to bring back groceries on his way home, or simply go and get them on his days off.

It all made sense now— why you came home furiously carrying multiple bags of groceries the other day. Why you gave him the cold shoulder whenever he cooked for you. He was neglecting you without noticing and didn’t even bother to see the signs you threw his way. Felix’s heart sank at the realization, feeling horrible for the way he let you feel. He loved you, he always did, however it was clear you felt that he didn’t anymore. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel less than enough.

How could he make it up to you?

— ✧⁂✬ —

You pulled into the driveway of your shared home, groaning as you turned off the car. You sat in your seat for a minute, contemplating if you even wanted to walk inside— it’s not like you’d be greeted with any warm welcome. A useless argument seemed more likely to occur the that at this point, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to it.

You got out of your car, locking it as you walked over to the door. You fumbled with the keys for a moment before the door swung open in front of you. Startled you jumped back, being greeted with a guilty look from Felix. You looked at him for a second, before brushing past him to take off your coat and shoes.

“Can we talk?”

Felix closed the door, trailing behind you as you switched into your house slippers. You ignored him, walking over to the kitchen to spot a small plate of brownies on the table. You raised your eyebrow, giving him a quick glance only to be met with a half smile. Sending the cold shoulder his way, you grabbed a drink out of the fridge and walked toward the stairs.

It’s been months since he’s made you anything, let alone brownies. Though to make brownies all of a sudden, especially knowing you were upset with him? It was unusual.

“Hey,” he grabbed your hand, tugging on it slightly. You turned your head to look at him, sighing as you pulled your hand out from his grasp.

“Please talk to me, I’m sorry.” he mumbled, searching for even the slightest bit of light in your eyes.

“Talk about what, Felix? I’ve said more than enough to you yet time and time again you don’t care. Why waste my breath?”

He gave you a small frown, accepting the harsh truth that you had every right to be upset with him. All he wanted to do was fix things and make you happy— was it too late for that?

“I’m just, I feel horrible. I spent so much time in my work, I neglected you and.. that’s not right.”

He looked away from your cold gaze, picking at his chipped nail polish. You sighed heavily, turning away from him and walking back up the steps to your shared bedroom. You dug through the closet and pulled out a suitcase, soon fumbling through the closet and drawers for clothes. Felix watched from the doorway, eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

You ignored him once again, walking into the bathroom to grab things and soon placing them in the stuffed luggage. You closed the suitcase, pulling it off the bed. Felix walked into the room, grabbing the suitcase from your hands and pulling it to him.

“Hey, give me that back!” You tugged at the handle that he held a firm grip on. “I’m serious Felix, I’m done here.”

“So you’re just going to leave like that? After everything? Where are you even going to go?”

His questions felt like knives, turning and twisting inside of you. Still, you ignored them, yanking the suitcase from his hold and walking down the steps. You changed back into your sneakers, Felix standing a good distance away from you. You glanced over to him, watching as tears escaped his eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you. Brownies doesn’t fix anything, especially this and you know that.” You put on your jacket, pulling the car keys out from the pocket.

“I’ve fought, I’ve communicated, I even thrown hints at you and still you pushed them aside as nothing. Can’t you see it Felix? I loved you more than I loved myself, more than you even loved me.”

Felix stood there still, his face covered in tears as he wiped them away. He couldn’t respond to you, he wouldn’t. There was nothing for him to say when you were right. He had to bring himself to see the harsh reality of it all— he hurt you, put you last, every feeling you had at this moment was valid.

He wasn’t always cold, he was never the cold mean guy toward you, and the tears may have proven it, but a part of you couldn’t bear with it anymore. He showed you his true colors without a warning. He was more passionate about his work than he was of your relationship, and it tore you apart.

“Felix..” your voice broke, tears rolling down your face as you walked up to him.

You held his hands in your own, bringing them up to your face before you placed a soft kiss against them. You gave him a small frown as you wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I love you, but I deserve better. I’m sorry.”

His heart shattered at your words. He subconsciously pulled you into a hug, squeezing you softly as if he didn’t want to let go. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his head gently before pulling yourself away from his hug.

“Please don’t go, I can do better. I promise.” His doe eyes met your own, making you look away.

You walked back to your suitcase, holding it tightly as you made your way to the door. You stopped suddenly, taking in a deep breath before looking back at his fragile gaze. It hurt you to see him like this, but that was only part of the extent that he ever made you feel. He may not ever know how you truly felt.

“You’re too late.”

You shut the door behind you, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way to the car. The worst part was over— at least for you, unlucky for Felix, it was just beginning.

uh, i’m sorry for this LMAO. part 2 maybe?

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @h4untedgrl @jjongibears @rvereri

@kittykat-25 @sundaybossanova @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @vnessalau

@tiredlittlevirgo @roomsofangel @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @minghaoslatina

[keeryhours]

please don’t go, i love you so - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

When you get in a serious accident, Rafe’s true feelings are left staring him in the face.

Requested

Warnings:

Lots of drama and angst, language, serious car accident, medical stuff, talk of TBIs, broken bones, and other injuries

Word Count: 4k

A/N:

Had to do research for this one, but I’m definitely no expert on medical stuff so forgive me if I get something wrong 🥲 Requests are open! BD Rafe requests can be anywhere in the timeline, past, future, smut, fluff, or angst :) Other OBX (or ST) requests also very welcome. I hope you enjoy this one!

let me know if you want to be on any tag lists :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“Iris, please, baby, we’ve got to get your shoes on.”

“No!” the toddler yelled back, running circles around the living room.

You were out of energy. You sat on the couch, your face in your hands, as she continued to run and you tried to clear your head and just breathe.

It had been a long day. A bad day. Iris had been absolutely wild, endless energy and more attitude in her nearly 2 year old self than you thought possible. And it didn’t help that JJ was out with the pogues, so you didn’t even have any backup. It was 7pm, nearing her bedtime, and this had been your whole day. You were over it.

Everything had been a fight with her all day, but the current one was getting her dressed for pickup. It was Rafe’s weekend, and he’d be pulling up any second. You didn’t feel too thrilled about seeing Rafe right now, either.

Things had been complicated with Rafe. You felt like it was a constant back and forth with him, especially recently. Not about co-parenting, never about Iris - you knew you were lucky that the two of you got along so well when it came to parenting your daughter. It was feelings that got tricky.

You didn’t even know how you felt about Rafe yourself. On one hand, you knew you loved him. You’d always love him. But just because you loved him didn’t mean you should be together. You could never forget the toxic situation your relationship had been. Constant fighting, endless tears, trust issues and anger problems.

That’s not even to mention the way he would act around you lately. He was hot and cold. Sometimes he acted all affectionate, kissing and touching you, fucking you, like you’d never broken up in the first place. Other times he was cold and withdrawn. It left you feeling confused, like emotional whiplash, and you were honestly tired of it.

You debated on letting yourself have a quick cry, but quickly wrote that off as you thought of how humiliating it would be to answer the door to Rafe with your face all red and puffy from crying. You took a second to collect yourself, before putting the Mom pants back on.

“Iris Elaine Cameron,” you said sternly, standing from the couch.

The little girl came to a stop, looking up at you with a big grin on her face, totally oblivious to your frustration. The sight of her angelic face softens you immediately, of course. She had her light brown hair up in tiny pigtails, dressed in one of the many outfits Rafe had bought her. Some designer brand dress, not that you had any idea about that or thought it made much sense to dress a toddler in such expensive clothes. She looked cute, though.

You held up her Mary Jane shoes. “Are you gonna let Mommy put your shoes on so Daddy can come pick you up?” you asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Her little face lit up with joy. “Dada! Dada!”

Your heart clenched in your chest. Iris had been a total Daddy’s Girl since day 1 - and Rafe was completely wrapped around her little finger - but sometimes the reminder of him hit you especially hard.

At the promise of seeing her dad soon, Iris happily hopped over to you. You smiled as you lifted her onto your lap and slid her shoes on, buckling them. “There. See? All done,” you said. Iris held her palms out and twisted them, baby sign language for all done, which made you giggle. When you had read the articles and brought it up to Rafe, he had thought teaching her sign language as an infant was dumb. But it actually ended up being extremely helpful since she couldn’t communicate with words yet.

“Book?” she asked you, and you knew exactly what she wanted - her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are. She’d have you read it 50 times a day if you’d do it. You smiled as you reached over to unzip the diaper bag, pulling the book out. She broke into a huge grin just at the sight of it.

You opened the beloved book and began to read to her, making her giggle with the different voices you’d do for the monsters. Her favorite part was always when you or Rafe would read the line “Oh please don’t go - we’ll eat you up - we love you so!” while attacking her with kisses and tickles. She laughed so hard every time.

When the book was finished, you closed it and slipped it back in the bag to go to her dad’s. She pouted like she was about to throw a fit if you didn’t read it again. “Uh uh. You’re gonna have to wait until Daddy reads it tonight.” You leaned in, rubbing your nose against hers, making her giggle.

You sat Iris down on the ground at the exact time you heard the front door opening. You raised your eyebrows knowingly at Iris, who’s eyes went wide in the direction of the hallway. You both knew perfectly well who it was.

Rafe sauntered into the living room, sunglasses sitting on his face despite the sun already beginning to set. His bored expression was immediately replaced by a huge grin as he saw his daughter.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said, lifting her into his arms as she squealed with delight.

You avoided eye contact with Rafe, busying yourself around the living room as you made sure everything Iris needed that he didn’t already have at his place was packed in her diaper bag. Once you were satisfied, you approached Rafe with the bag, handing it over. He took it from you with a curious expression.

“You’re being weird,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.

You ignored him, leaning over to give Iris a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you Sunday night, okay?”

Rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you, like he’s examining you inside and out. “What’s your deal?”

You sighed - you already felt defeated and exhausted going into this encounter, you didn’t really want to do this tonight. “Nothing. Everything is fine.”

But Rafe knows you better than anyone.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you. “This is because I took Briana on another date, isn’t it?”

You felt your skin turn ice cold at the accusation, your defenses building themselves high. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

The slightest smirk dances across his lips as he sits a wiggling Iris back on the ground, his eyes never leaving yours. “That is why you’re mad.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh as you crossed your arms and looked away from him, watching Iris start dragging everything you’d just cleaned up out of the toy box again, paying no mind to the two of you. “I’m not mad. And if I was, I have much better things to be upset about than who you choose to stick your dick into,” you hissed back at him.

Rafe barked out a laugh, looking up at the ceiling as he did like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “You are so full of shit.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Get out, Rafe. I’ll see you Sunday.”

He watched you for a minute longer as you both stood there in silence. Finally he let out a big sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You didn’t acknowledge the comment as he moved to lift Iris into his arms again, her bag slung over his shoulder. You followed him to the front door, ready to shut him out as soon as possible, but as soon as he stepped over the threshold, he turned back to you.

“You know, it’s none of your business who I see. We’re not together. You’re not my girl.”

You just looked at him, his words cutting far deeper and harder than you wanted to admit. “Same goes for you too, Rafe,” you said, thinking of the multiple times Rafe’s temper and jealousy had ruined one of your dates. Half the island was scared to even look at you because of him. It was fucking annoying.

Rafe scoffed. He shook his head one more time with that stupid grin on his face. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said, and then he was walking off towards his truck.

You didn’t linger. You shut the door as soon as he stepped away, leaning against the wood as you took a deep, shaky breath. God, you hated that arrogant asshole sometimes.

You wallowed in your despair on the couch for a while that night, switching between various shows, none of them catching your interest. Eventually you think what’s the point, and decide to just go to bed early. You might as well take advantage of the sleep without having to worry about getting up early.

—

You hoped you would feel better the next day.

You didn’t.

You made breakfast for you and JJ, not something you typically do when Iris was at Rafe’s, but you felt like pancakes. And JJ certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“You look depressed,” JJ pointed out helpfully through a mouthful of pancake as you sat at the small dining table across from him.

You glared at him over your plate before eating a bite of your own breakfast. JJ held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Touchy subject this morning, I see.”

As much as you loved your twin brother, you were relieved when he picked up his surf board after breakfast and told you he was going out. You didn’t exactly feel up to company.

With JJ gone, you attempted to stay busy around the house, but once everything was cleaned to perfection, you found yourself standing in the silent living room, feeling like you had no idea what to do with yourself. What was wrong with you, you thought. The place was always too quiet without Iris.

You needed a drive to clear your head.

You snatched your keys from the side table and left the house, still dressed in the tank top and athletic shorts you’d been cleaning the house in. You just wanted to drive around the island for a while, you weren’t really going anywhere, so you didn’t care how you looked.

You turned on your favorite sad playlist and sang at the top of your lungs to songs about love and broken hearts and pain. You felt pretty silly, but this was your time, your coping mechanism, and you weren’t going to feel bad about it.

Fuck Rafe Cameron. And not in the way you usually did.

You drove with the windows down, the salty breeze whipping through your hair, cooling your skin. You felt yourself starting to feel lighter.

You didn’t see the truck barreling faster than the speed limit around the corner. No one even had time to lay on the horn. You didn’t see or feel anything except a brief flash of pain and then - nothing.

—

“Wow! That’s beautiful, baby.”

Rafe lifted up the piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles, examining it like it was on display at The Louvre. It was the fifth one he’d been given since he sat on the floor with Iris, crayons and paper spread out all around them. Each piece of art went in a stack to be displayed somewhere in the house.

He watched his daughter as she picked up the green jumbo crayon and began roughly scribbling it across another blank page. The same big smile he always had around Iris was spread across his face. Nothing made him happier than spending time with her.

Rafe was caught off guard by the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out, expecting to see either Topper or Kelce forgetting it was his weekend with Iris. But his eyebrows furrowed as he saw it was JJ calling him. JJ never called or texted him. They only had each other’s numbers in case of emergency.

Rafe felt a jolt of pure fear deep in his chest.

He answered the call, tentatively bringing the phone to his ear. “Maybank?” he answered.

He felt the nausea spread over him like a tidal wave when JJ spoke your name in his panicked voice. It was you. God, something bad had happened to you.

“S-slow down,” Rafe said, holding his shaking hand out in front of him as if JJ could see. Pure panic was spreading and growing through every vein in his body. “What…what happened?”

JJ’s voice was shaking too as he spoke. Rafe could tell he was pacing, probably pulling at his messy blonde hair as he did. “She- it was a truck. Guy was speeding and hit her head-on. Her car is totaled, they…they haven’t even let me see her yet. I don’t even know if she’s okay. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left this morning. Fuck!”

Rafe couldn’t even process JJ blaming himself for something that definitely wasn’t his fault, because he was doing the same thing. He had been a total asshole to you last night. The idea that that could possibly have been the last conversation he’ll ever have with you has him feeling like he’s going to be sick on the floor.

“I’m on my way,” Rafe said simply, and then he was hanging up the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and climbing to his feet.

Sarah was happy to watch Iris as Rafe grabbed his keys and sprinted to his truck, with promises to text her about your condition as soon as he knew anything at all. He probably would have been driving 15 over the speed limit if he wasn’t so disgustingly reminded of the dangers of the road. Instead he drove as fast as he safely could, a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he clenched his jaw tightly.

His head was spinning as he rushed into the hospital, looking around the waiting room for any sign of JJ. He didn’t see the blonde boy anywhere. He approached the receptionist desk instead, urgently giving your name to the tired looking receptionist.

“She’s in the Neuro ICU, room 5,” the receptionist said. Rafe felt his breath hitch - the fucking ICU? “We only allow two visitors at a time, and it’s immediate family only,” she continued. “You are…?”

Rafe hesitated. “Uh…I’m her boyfriend,” he said the first thing that came to mind. “But we have a child together. Please.”

The receptionist eyed him for a moment, before nodding, giving him a sympathetic look. She printed a visitor’s badge for him and handed it over. He thinks she said something about wishing you the best, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears as he mindlessly walked towards the elevators.

The last time Rafe had been in a hospital was for Iris’ birth, decidedly a much happier occasion. He felt out of place and awkward as he walked through the quiet, sterile halls, following signs pointing him where he wanted to go.

When he reached the ICU and approached room 5, he froze. He had never felt so scared in his life, he thought. He didn’t know if he could do this.

But you needed him.

He slid the glass door open, a flash of blonde hair peeking from around the privacy curtain where JJ was sitting. Rafe mustered all the strength he had to walk forward into the room. JJ looked up at him as he entered, but his eyes were immediately drawn to you as his heart shattered in his chest.

He clasped his hands behind his head as he took in the scene in front of him. He was holding off a panic attack as tears welled in his eyes. You were there on the bed, and you looked so utterly broken that it made Rafe feel like he couldn’t breathe. You were hooked up to an IV, about a million monitors mostly over your chest and head, a cast on an arm and one on a leg, a ventilator.

Rafe’s shaky legs practically gave out then, his body collapsing in the empty chair by your bedside. He was terrified to look at you, knowing he was going to start crying harder if he did. He looked at JJ instead, who looked equally wrecked, his eyes red from crying.

JJ gave Rafe the rundown the doctor had just given him. Traumatic brain injury, broken bones in your left arm and leg. You hadn’t regained consciousness at all since the accident. Things were still up in the air, nothing the doctors would say brought Rafe any comfort. They didn’t know about surgery yet, they didn’t know how long it would take you to recover, hell, they couldn’t even say if you’d be the same when you woke up.

When Rafe finally worked up the courage to be close to you, to actually look at you - he didn’t know his heart could break like this. Your normally smooth, perfect skin that he loved to trace his fingertips over because of the way you’d react to his touch, was now covered in deep bruises. Your face - that beautiful face he always adored so much, the one he fell in love with back in junior high - bruised and lacerated. He couldn’t even tell himself you were just peacefully napping. You looked like hell.

The next weeks were long and difficult. Iris stayed with the Cameron’s, and while Rafe spent every second he could drag himself away from your bedside spending it with her, he didn’t leave the hospital much at all. He grew used to sleeping in the world’s most uncomfortable chair.

Your recovery was truly a miracle. You didn’t end up needing brain surgery, but they kept you monitored for weeks. You did suffer a pretty bad TBI, and you had surgery to repair the broken bones in your arm and leg. The ventilator was removed first, which Rafe was the most relieved about, because that terrified him more than anything else.

When you finally woke up, Rafe was the first thing you saw.

The second he noticed your eyes fluttering open, Rafe was bolting up straight in his chair, his hand gently cupping your cheek with a barely-there touch as he whispered your name.

“R…Rafe?” you had croaked, voice raspy and dry from disuse and the ventilator tube being down your throat. Rafe called the nurses immediately, and multiple examinations, a plastic hospital jug of ice water, and some heavy pain meds later, you were feeling…okay.

JJ was there for most of the day like he was every day he didn’t have work. He actually cried when he showed up and saw you awake, which surprised Rafe because he didn’t even seem embarrassed about it. He just embraced you as gently as possible so as not to hurt you, and it was clear you were equally as happy to see him. There was that twin bond, something Rafe found a little weird (especially when the two of you would communicate without even talking) but also…endearing.

Recovery was a long road, and it was a lot of hard work, but the doctors were confident in your ability to return to normal in time. You had to work on your memory, your speech. Physical therapy took up most of your days. But Rafe knew you were strong, and you showed him every day. Even Iris got to visit as often as she could, but you didn’t want her in a hospital for too long so she wouldn’t get sick.

Rafe sat by your side late at night, gently brushing his fingers through your hair as you laid with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. Your hospital stay was finally almost over. You’d be coming home tomorrow, staying with the Camerons so you had the help.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. You were happy, but his behavior was confusing to you at the same time. “You’re being weirdly sweet,” you said with a teasing smile.

Rafe looked away from your eyes. “Yeah…well.”

The two of you sat with that silence for a while. You knew there was plenty he wasn’t saying, and you wondered if he would.

Rafe reached forward and traced a finger along your cheek, over your jaw line. The cuts and bruises on your face were mostly healed now, and you were endlessly grateful when they told you they didn’t expect any lasting scarring. His light touch sent a shiver through your body.

When Rafe finally spoke again, he sounded different than you had ever heard him. His voice was weak, broken. “Don’t do that to me again.”

Your face fell as you looked at him - really looked at him - and saw the pain hidden deep behind his blue eyes. Obviously you knew none of this was your fault, but you felt terrible for what you’d put your loved ones through all the same.

“I’m sorry-“ you began to say, but Rafe shook his head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” he said, his voice choked up as tears welled in those deep eyes. The words hit you like a physical blow, you felt yourself moving back as you looked him in the face. “I don’t give a fuck about Briana, or any other girl on this island compared to you. And it’s not just ‘we were together for a while and you’re the mother of my daughter so I’ll always love you’,” he continued, like the words were spilling out of his mouth faster than he could control. “No, like, I love you.”

He was looking you so intensely in the eyes that it took your breath away. You felt tears in your own eyes, falling down your cheeks before you could do anything about it. “Rafe…” you breathed out, you didn’t know what else to say. You weren’t even sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Maybe we could…maybe we could try again,” he said, the hope audible in his voice. “A…relationship?”

You let out a long shaky exhale. “I…” You searched your brain for the right words to say, searched your chest for how you really felt. “We…it’s never worked, Rafe, we never-“

“Do you love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. “What?”

“Do you love me?” he repeated simply. “I told you how I felt. I need to know how you really feel.”

You swallowed. “I love you, Rafe,” you said, your voice small. “I’ve always loved you. But it’s still never worked for us.”

Rafe clasped both your smaller hands in his, being gentle with your cast. “I’m serious this time, baby. This is…things are different.” He held intense eye contact with you as he spoke, and you could see the genuine emotion swirling behind his eyes. “I’ve had a taste of what life would be like without you, and I don’t wanna go through that again.”

You had no control whatsoever as the tears started to fall down your face faster, a sob escaping from your throat. Rafe pulled you into the tightest gentle hug he could manage, his large hand combing through your smooth hair as you cried into his chest. He was a little panicked, he didn’t know if he had said something wrong to upset you. He didn’t want to make you sad anymore.

When you pulled back, Rafe wiped the tears from your face. He traced his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. His gaze flicked up to your eyes, back to your mouth, and then he was leaning in to press the softest kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss and looked into your eyes again, he could see the mix of emotions swirling behind them. He wished he could read what you were thinking.

He grabbed your good hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. “You don’t have to decide anything now. You have plenty else to worry about. Just…think about it for me?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, which gave him some reassurance. You didn’t know what your decision would be, but you wanted to make sure you made the right one. For you, for Rafe, and for Iris.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

His lips turned up in a smile. “I love you too.”

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch.2

Venus ° Lee Know

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY      wc: 2k give or take

Warnings: oral f receiving, fingering, inexperienced reader, experienced minho, aftercare??

The rest of the day with Chan was spent kissing and touching. The intrusion of his tongue in your mouth was thrilling, the drag of it down the skin of your neck was electrifying. His hands on you were gentle and soft but firm in their way, he made you feel safe and hot, a delicious mixture that heightened even more your attraction towards him.  Chan woke up something in you that you didn’t know you possessed, and by the state of him when you had to go home, dick hard, cheeks red and tousled hair, you seemed to have had an effect on him too.

Slick and arousal had soiled your underwear when you got home and you couldn’t help but get under the covers and slip a hand inside your pants, hoping your roommate didn’t hear you. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was his fingers tracing your slit and gently playing around with your pussy, it was his fingers circling your clit with precise movements. The orgasm that came out of your little self care moment was the strongest one you had ever experienced. Your pussy gushed and pulsed against your fingers. The moment you were done you passed out cold, tired from from the previous sleepless night.

When you awoke the sky outside was black and the city had quieted down significantly. 2 AM read your trusty clock. It was way too early to wake up so you let your eyes close and sleep pulled you into the void. Just as you were about to enter the land of dreams, a ping from your phone abruptly shook you awake.

Chris-py boy <3:

This is the list of the things you should know and which of the guys are gonna teach you. Think it over and let me know. Goodnight baby <3 (attached document)

You:

I don’t know Channie, the last one is a little much, but the rest is fine

Chris-py boy <3:

You don’t have to do the last one if you don’t want to, pretty. Think about it and let me know. What about Minho? Are you okay with that?

You:

I’m a little nervous because I don’t know Minho that much but I trust you, I know there’s a reason why you chose him. When are we going to meet?

A lump formed in your throat and butterflies filled your stomach (and your vagina).

Chris-py boy <3

He's very busy during the week between work and dance practice and classes but he’s available tomorrow afternoon if it’s not too early.

You:

No, tomorrow is fine

Chris-py boy <3:

Brave girl <3. Minho will text you tomorrow morning then, sleep well, pretty girl and let me know how he treated you after ;) 

You put the phone down with an ever growing feeling of pride in your chest.

‘You’re such a boss Y/N’

Waking up the next morning was traumatizing; your body was feeling all of the effects of a sleepless night, a special solo cardio session and your nervousness.Grogginess wouldn’t quite cut it, your whole body felt heavy with sleep and your mind was so foggy it was a miracle you remembered your name. The only thing that brought you out of your trance was your phone buzzing several times.

Unknown number: 3 messages

Chris-py boy <3 : two missed calls

‘Fuck what time is it? Did I sleep too much?’

Unknown number: Hi, it's Minho, are you okay with meeting at 4?

Unknown number: Wear something you feel comfortable in :)

Unknown member: Did you change your mind?

2 PM. The time on your clock almost sent you in a frenzy, you were finally getting laid for the first time and you overslept. Embarrassing, you thought to yourself.

You:

I didn’t forget, I’m sorry I was sleeping. 4 sounds perfect :)

Minho:

Don’t worry, I’ll be at your dorm around 4 then. Don’t worry too much, I’ll treat you well and you can always stop me at any time.

Minho’s words made you feel warm inside. He had always treated you nicely; always a polite gentleman, always opened doors around the guys’ dorm for you and every time you slept over and you walked around the kitchen with shorts, he would never let his eyes linger on your bare legs unlike Han. 

Just this once time was on your side. You had two hours to get presentable, take a shower and scrub furiously any sensitive areas, get dressed, do your skin care and hyperventilate in front of the mirror. The anxiety and nervousness that flowed inside your body were able to let you finish well in advance. Your feet moved on their own, you couldn’t stay still. If your bed could have talked, it would’ve cursed at you for constantly fixing the sheets and the pillows. It was a seemingly never ending cycle: walk around the bed, look at the sheets, fix the sheets, start walking again, only to do everything from the start. Right when you thought the floor would open up to swallow you whole, your phone pinged. You threw yourself on the bed to see the message.

Minho:

I’m outside, whenever you’re ready, take your time.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach, Minho was cute and nice and you were about to have sex with him. You felt beyond flattered. Without thinking too much, you got out of your room and sped to your door. Your hand wrapped around the door knob with a bruising grip and swung the offending piece of wood open. On the other side stood Minho in all of his beauty, and what a great beauty.

“Hi,” he spoke first and offered you a small sweet smile. You had never seen him smile like that and it made you warm inside once again, it also made your pussy slick in your panties. The fact that this gorgeous man wanted you even if you were completely inexperienced, the fact that you had that kind of power on him, it turned you on, more than a little.

“Come in.” Minho stepped inside your dorm room and closed the door behind him. His hand found yours naturally. 

“Can I see your room?” God he was so respectful and kind, you wanted him to absolutely destroy you. Instead of voicing your thoughts, you slowly walked him to your room, his fingers wrapped around yours still. Your tiny room seemed to shine the moment he stepped foot in it; each one of his movements seemed so natural and fluid that you had almost thought that he had already been in your room, already sat on your bed.

“Are you alright?” his voice was soft and sincere, you had never heard him speak like that to anyone. You just nodded and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Since this is your first lesson, I thought I could show you what pleasure is. Is that okay with you?” his words were so casual that you almost thought he wasn’t talking about sex. You nodded again.

“Use your words, pretty.”

“Yes, it's okay.” Minho hummed, his hand reached up to gently stroke your chin.

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes please,” it was barely above a whisper but less than a moan, nevertheless Minho heard you and his lips were on yours in a heartbeat. His kiss was different from Chan’s, he was more passionate, more intense, you could feel his mischievous side in it. His lips felt heavenly on yours, they were soft and skilled just like his hands.They move confidently on the curves of your body, from your neck to your back to your hips which he squeezed affectionately.

“Can I touch you, pretty?” you almost didn’t hear him, so focused on the sensation of his hands on you and his lips which had now moved to brush against your ear and the skin behind it. A shiver shook you from your head to your toes and your pussy throbbed. Never in your life had you been that worked up in so little time.

“Please, Minho, touch me,” your voice sounded strange to your ears, your tone was whiny and slightly petulant but Minho seemed to think otherwise. His pupils were fully blown, a twinkle of lust and mischief in his eyes; the more skin you let him touch the more his dick stirred in his jeans. The trust you had in him, they way you keened and wailed with simple touches, the blush that was creeping up your neck to your face and extended to your pretty tits; all of these elements made Minho crazy with want, he couldn’t think straight anymore and it was clear that you had stopped the moment he had put his lips on yours. 

In a matter of what seemed both seconds and hours you found yourself flat on your back, your dress pulled down to reveal your tits and the skirt pulled up with your panties dangling from one of your ankles.

“Hm, you have a pretty one,” Minho hummed. It was taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy and messily eat you out until you were shaking and crying from overstimulation, but this was your first time and he had to contain himself. 

“Minho, please do something,” you wailed once again, every ounce of shame was long gone from your body, replaced with pure lust and need for the man in front of you. Minho didn’t answer, his eyes moved to yours. His piercing gaze hypnotized you and nailed you on the spot, you couldn’t look away. He slowly lowered himself and when he was at eye level with your pretty pussy he gently pressed his lips right onto your clit. Your back bowed and arched off the bed; this feeling was so foreign and intense that it overwhelmed you but in the best ways, you never wanted Minho to stop. Almost like he could hear your thoughts, he peeked his tongue out of his mouth and gave you lick and then another and then another until he was slowly and passionately making out with your most sensitive and private part. Your breath hitched in your throat, obscenely loud moans slipped past your lips and for a second you worried about your roommates hearing the two of you but ultimately decided that you didn’t care.

So immersed in your pleasure, you almost didn’t notice Minho’s fingers circling your entrance until he was gently pushing them in, their drags against your slick walls felt weird but the more he pushed the more the feeling changed into a truly intoxicating one. 

Pleasure pooled and swirled into your gut as Minho worked his magic on you.

“Oh Minho, I’m close, I’m so close,” you hadn’t even realized you had spoken until the words had left your mouth. Minho hummed and sucked your clit into his mouth a little harder while thrusting into your sweet spot with a little more vigor. The coil in your belly suddenly snapped and you thrashed around in Minho’s hold. The orgasm was glorious, you swore you had seen stars. 

Minho continued to lick at your slit until you were whining and whimpering. You were completely exhausted but strangely your body had never felt lighter. 

A warm towel pressed against your pussy and you jolted, you hadn’t even realized that he had moved from between your legs. 

“How are you feeling? Did you enjoy yourself?” he softly asked while he cleaned you up.

“It was great, thank you,” your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“C’mon, let’s get ice cream.” His hands wrapped around your wrist and he helped you stand.

“Ice cream?” you asked  confused.

“I was the first ever man to ever be between your legs, I can’t abandon you right after.”

The walk to the ice cream parlor was quiet, but not awkward unlike what you expected. Minho’s presence was warm and welcoming, he made you feel safe and you felt like you didn’t need excessive words to fill up the silence, basking in each other’s presence was enough. 

“Minho, can I ask you something?” He nodded. A man of few words, you thought.

“Why did you keep calling me pretty?”

“Because you are pretty,” he mumbled, his ears were starting to get red.

You felt butterflies swarm your stomach.

“We should go out sometimes,” he spoke so softly that you had almost missed it. His ears were now completely red.

“Yeah, we should.”

[capuccinodoll]

The boyfriend act, part 8: "The one with Dante and Beatrice" Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: Things are a little different in Frankie’s mind. Apparently, you’re in there more often than you think. WC: 12k

A/N: I hope you like this one <3 I want you to know that from Frankie's perspective, things have been getting complicated for quite some time. Don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments, love reading them!!!If you want to be in the tag list, let me know. Follow capuccinodollupdates for notifications! love you <3

He wanted to give you space, time. He told himself that over and over again, like a mantra. And if there was one thing he'd been unwaveringly certain about, it was that all of this—this charade, this carefully constructed performance—would end the second you asked him to stop. It would keep going for as long as you wanted, for as long as you needed. Until you got tired of it. Until you got tired of him.

Frankie wasn’t sure what he expected when he got in his car that afternoon and drove to your place. He had no plan, no rehearsed words, no real sense of what he was walking into. All he knew was that the past few weeks had been unbearable, spent in a strange limbo of guilt and something else—something more insidious, more consuming, something he refused to name. And it was starting to drive him out of his mind.

That morning, he’d woken up groggy, his head pounding dully from the night before. He’d had a few drinks, nothing excessive, but enough to leave him sluggish. The guys had been at Will’s place, and they’d stayed late, shooting the shit, letting time pass the way they always did—until Santi asked how things were going. Casual, but not really. And Frankie didn’t lie. Why would he? Why should he? So he told him everything, laid it all out like an offering, and when it was over, he felt an immense weight lift from his chest.

He told Santi everything. Let it spill out like a confession, every detail that had been pressing on him, rattling around in his chest like loose change. And when he was finished, he felt lighter, relieved in a way that made him a little sick. Like he had unloaded something heavy onto someone else and could finally breathe again.

Santi listened, nodding, his expression unreadable. Then he said, flatly, “I get it. But she's my sister, and I love you both so just... Stop.”

Frankie nodded. He hesitated, then asked about you—had you said anything? Had you mentioned him? If you had, what had you told Santi?

But Santi was brief, uninterested in being the middleman. He shrugged, took a sip of his beer, and said, “I dunno know. Go ask her.” A casual pat on the back, like that was the end of the conversation. Like the solution was that simple.

Frankie thought about it all night.

Would you even answer the door? Or would you tell him to fuck off before he could get a word out?

The questions followed him into sleep, looping over and over in his mind. He passed out on top of his sheets, still in his jeans, the heat thick and suffocating, pressing down on his skin like a punishment. The next day, he woke up feeling like hell, his head pounding. Took a painkiller dry, then stood under the shower until the cold turned his skin raw.

And then he went to you.

And you opened the door. You let him in.

And for a brief moment, he thought that was it. That you’d sit down together, have a rational conversation, lay everything out cleanly, like two people sorting through a mess they’d both agreed to finally put to rest.

But that wasn’t what happened.

Instead, you told him everything. You let it spill out, sharp and unfiltered, all the ways he had made you feel, how hard it had been, how unfair. But most of all, you told him that you had heard him. That years ago, you had overheard him talking to Will.

That was the part that stunned him, the part that felt like ice water down his back.

Because all these years, he had been confused about everything—about you, about why things between you had always felt sharp and unsolvable. He had never quite understood the root of it, never really asked himself why. And now, hearing it from you, it was so clear. It had been his fault. All along, it had been him.

He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell you why, to make you understand. But he wasn’t sure he could yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to open that door—to expose himself to a different kind of vulnerability, the kind he had been avoiding for years.

And from your perspective, it was all just confirmation. He was exactly who you had always thought he was. A smug, careless asshole who had pushed you too far, again and again, until you finally snapped.

That’s why he wasn’t surprised when you told him you were tired. Tired of this thing between you, whatever it was. Tired of the constant tension, the sharp edges, the way it never seemed to settle into anything that didn’t leave one of you bleeding.

“I want this to end,” you said, watching him carefully, like you were waiting for some kind of reaction. He felt a flicker of something beneath his ribs—sharp, immediate, gone too fast to name.

“What?”

“This,” you repeated, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “The fights. The confusion. I’ve had enough. I don’t want it anymore.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Silent. The light filtering in through the window softened the lines of your face, turned your skin softer, almost glowing. He had the sudden, ridiculous urge to reach out and trace his fingertips over your cheekbone.

He didn’t.

“Right,” he said instead. “I don’t want it either. And I get it. If you want me to stay away, I will. I’ll tell Santi. I’ll keep my distance if that’s—”

“No.”

You cut him off before he could finish, stepping just the slightest bit closer, and it sent a prickle of confusion up his spine.

“I don’t want that either,” you said.

Try again. Be normal. Be cordial. It made sense, didn’t it? Two people with history deciding to rewrite it, to turn it into something easier, something less jagged. Like normal adults who could be in the same room without pressing on old wounds.

And yet—he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Couldn’t understand why you wanted to try again. Why, after everything, you were even slightly interested in salvaging this.

But he wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t say it out loud. Because some small, irrational part of him was afraid that if he did, you’d stop and really think about it. You’d realize that whatever you were doing was pointless, that he wasn’t worth the effort.

And then you’d look at him and say, Actually, Francisco, fuck you. I don’t want to see you ever again.

If you told him that—if you looked him in the eye and said you’d changed your mind, that this was pointless, that you didn’t want him in your life at all—he would understand. Of course he would. But for some reason, the thought of it settled uncomfortably in his chest, heavier than he expected.

So instead, he would help you with your list.

That, at least, made sense. He knew about those things, the ones you had written down. They were his kind of thing—outdoor activities, experiences that required skill, control, an understanding of risk. He had been trained for almost all of it. If you wanted to go climbing, he could take you. He’d make sure you placed your feet right, that your harness was secure, that you knew how to read the rock beneath your hands. If you wanted to go camping, he would set up your tent or help you do it yourself, show you how to choose the safest place to sleep, rattle off a list of survival tips without even thinking. And if you wanted to go skinny dipping—well. He knew where to take you for that too. Somewhere like Hippie Hollow Park if you were feeling bold. Somewhere more secluded if you weren’t.

And yet, somehow, the first thing you wanted to do was skydiving. That one actually surprised him.

Still, sure. He would do it with you. No hesitation. He had a guy in Lexington, an old friend who was an instructor. It took him all of ten minutes to send a message that same night. By the time he put his phone down, it was settled. All that was left was for you to pick the day and time.

But he didn’t text you. Not right away. He figured he’d bring it up sometime during the week. When? He didn’t know. And he didn’t have to think too much about it because by the time monday rolled around, Helena showed up at his door unexpectedly—just as he was getting home from the airport, exhausted from a twelve-hour day, six of which had been spent in the air.

He wasn’t complaining. He knew plenty of retired pilots who had taken up instructing in other places, and most of them were barely scraping by—too many hours, not enough pay, burning themselves out for companies that didn’t give a shit. Frankie, at least, had gotten lucky. The school that hired him paid well, better than most. Flight hours, ground hours—it was all compensated fairly, which wasn’t something a lot of guys could say. 

Frankie felt he was luckier than he had any right to be, really. Because when he was discharged a couple of years ago, there had been nothing reassuring about his future. Nothing. He'd left his position before even turning thirty-five, his mental health hanging by a thread, his sense of purpose unraveling faster than he could stitch it back together. Everything felt like a sacrifice, and worse than that—he felt like a failure. All the time.

So, yeah. He was lucky.

Lucky to land a decent job—fifty five bucks an hour, flying from twenty to thirty-five hours a week, some days busy, others quieter. He preferred the time in the air. The ground felt too loud, too heavy. But up there, everything stilled. Up there, he could breathe. His body remembered what it was built for.

Lately, though, he was tired.

He’d spent the last few weeks pushing himself past ten-hour days, taking on extra students, filling his schedule until there was barely enough time to eat, let alone think. Because every time he came home, the silence felt suffocating. The walls pressing in, the weight of something unspoken settling on his chest.

And maybe—maybe—the fight with you had a little something to do with that.

But he wanted to give you time, didn’t he? That was the whole point. That was why, when he saw Helena standing outside his house that afternoon, arms crossed, wearing the easy kind of smile that meant she wasn’t actually mad at him—yet—he felt that strange pull in his stomach. Not quite guilt, not quite dread. Something heavier, more tangled.

Frankie smelled like the wind. His hair was tucked under a cap, still messy at the edges, and he was wearing dark sunglasses even though the sun had already started sinking behind the houses. His back ached in a way that made him feel older than he was, but Helena barely gave him a second to register any of it before she was stepping forward, wrapping her arms around him in a brief but warm hug.

“I’m just coming to check in,” she said lightly, stepping past him into the house. She scanned the living room, eyes sharp, like she was taking an inventory of every single thing that had changed since the last time she’d been here. The place was tidy. Suspiciously tidy. “You’ve barely answered your phone.”

Frankie sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” he said, already anticipating the direction this conversation was about to take. “I’ve just been busy. And when I get home, I... sleep.”

Helena hummed, like she didn’t totally believe him but was willing to let it slide for now.

“Just take care of yourself,” she said, and then, as if she’d only been waiting for a beat of silence to slip the question in naturally, “Have you seen her? How’s she doing?”

He smiled despite himself, because of course she would ask. He looked at his mother with something like amusement, something like fondness.

“She’s fine. And yes, I know what you’re going to ask.”

Helena raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Do you?”

“Yeah.”

That seemed to satisfy her, at least a little. She nodded, glancing around the room again before saying, like it had only just occurred to her, “Wednesday, seven o’clock.”

Frankie frowned. “You already picked a day?”

“Well, yes. But if that doesn’t work, Thursday. Or—” She waved a hand, brushing off her own urgency. “Just let me know when she can.”

“This week, you mean?”

“Yes, this week,” she said, like it was obvious. “I’m visiting aunt Eli this weekend.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You’re a busy woman, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, leveling him with a look. “And I answer my phone too.”

She poked him gently in the stomach, and he laughed, nudging her hand away.

Later that night, Frankie pulled out his phone and typed out a message. He was already bracing himself for you to say no, to suggest some vague future alternative that would never quite materialize.

Instead, your reply came quickly.

[🍓]:  I like wednesday :) tell your mom we’ll be there

Frankie read the message again, then set his phone down on the nightstand. His hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the ends, and he was wearing what he usually wore to bed—that is, just his underwear. The air in his room was cool against his skin, but he didn’t bother pulling the covers over himself. Instead, he lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, then reached for his phone again.

He stared at the ceiling for maybe five seconds before picking his phone up again.

[F]  Okay, I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.

Your reply came almost instantly.

[🍓]: Okay. And what should I wear?

Frankie hesitated for a second, then typed:

[F]: Hopefully clothes

A beat. Then:

[🍓]: 🙄

[🍓]: I meant… what kind of clothes

[F]: Idk, something nice

[F]: Dress like you always do

[🍓]: Are you saying I dress cute?

He thought about playing dumb. But teasing you was starting to feel as easy as breathing.

[F]: Actually, yeah

The three little dots appeared immediately.

Then they disappeared.

Frankie grinned, waiting. A few seconds later, they reappeared—only to vanish again.

Okay. This was fun.

Finally, after a long pause, the dots came back, and this time, they stayed.

[🍓]: I’ll wear something nice then

And of course, you did.

When Frankie pulled up outside the bookstore on wednesday, you stepped out wearing a fitted white tee and a black mini skirt that just barely skimmed mid-thigh. There was something effortless about it, something that made the whole thing look even better—like you hadn’t tried too hard, but still, somehow, had nailed it. Your purse hung off one shoulder, and as you reached him, you did a slow turn, walking a few steps back and forth in front of him, hands wiggling at your sides.

“So?” you prompted, tilting your head. “What do you think?”

Frankie was leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes flicked over you, taking in every detail, and then, before he could stop it, a slow smile spread across his face.

He nodded, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “Yeah. Works for me.”

You stopped right in front of him, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of your perfume. Your arms crossed over your chest, and your eyes, darker in the dimming light, pinned him in place.

“That’s it?” you asked. “That’s all you have to say to me? I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, you know.”

Frankie exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly as if giving your words some serious consideration. Then he nodded again.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Even though there’s literally no one watching us right now, huh?”

“That’s not true,” you countered immediately, jerking your chin to the left. “See?”

Frankie followed your gaze. Down the block, an old woman was making her way in the opposite direction, moving at a glacial pace.

He snorted. “You think she’s our audience?”

“She could be.”

“She’s not even looking.”

“And you’re willing to take that risk?”

Frankie arched an eyebrow, half amused, half intrigued by your persistence. Now that you’d decided to stop arguing with him at every possible opportunity, was this what was going to replace it? This playful, harmless kind of provocation? The teasing that didn't sting, the banter that made your eyes light up instead of narrow?

If so, he didn’t mind. Not at all.

Because as much as you liked pushing him, he liked pushing back. Seeing how far he could take it before you finally tripped over your own words. And if he had to admit something—it was that you were good at this. Always had a comeback, always knew exactly where to poke to throw him off balance. But he had his own strengths. And he could win, too.

The way you were looking at him now—he recognized it instantly. Slow, measured, a devilish little glint in your eyes. You were trying to fluster him, the same way you had that night at the hotel bar on Helena’s birthday, when you leaned in just a little too close, held eye contact just a little too long, waiting to see if he’d be the first to break.

“So?” you prompted, that knowing smile still curving your lips. You were in a good mood, clearly.

But Frankie knew how to play this game too.

Without a second thought, he reached for you, both hands slipping around your waist as he pulled you in—closer, closer, until your body was nearly flush against his. Your hands collided with his chest, and he felt your palms settle there, warm through the fabric of his T-shirt. Your smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. You held it, but he could see the effort.

Yeah. He had you now.

He leaned in, just enough to catch the faint, sugary scent of your lip gloss—cherry—and the way the light from the streetlamp above made your lips glisten. He watched, satisfied, as your smile twitched, threatened to waver.

“Sweetheart, you look breathtakingly beautiful,” he murmured, letting his voice drop lower. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky to be yours.”

Your cheeks darkened instantly.

And that—that—was his victory.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he straightened up, peeling himself off the hood of the car and pulling you with him, keeping a firm hand on your waist. He reached for the door handle, swinging it open smoothly.

“Now... baby?” he said, eyes flicking down to yours, “get in the damn car. We're late.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, face still suspiciously warm, and lifted a hand to give him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Thank you. Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand. “You look good too.”

Frankie barely managed to hold back his laugh as he shut the door behind you.

On the way to Helena’s house, you were quieter than before. Not in an uncomfortable way, not the kind of silence that stretches awkwardly between two people who don’t know what to say. This was something else—an easy, unspoken quiet. Still, Frankie kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, subtle but frequent, like he was checking for something. You didn’t notice.

In his mind, a dozen thoughts churned. Had he overdone it? The whole performance, the teasing, the things he’d said—was it too much? He wasn’t sure. Maybe you were annoyed. Or maybe you weren’t thinking about it at all.

He drove through the streets downtown, passing familiar landmarks, getting closer to his mother’s neighborhood. The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting long shadows over the pavement. The air in the car was warm, tinged with the scent of something faintly citrusy—your perfume, maybe.

“Everything okay?” he asked, curiosity outweighing restraint.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling softly, genuinely.

“Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, glancing at you before returning his eyes to the road.

“You’re quiet, that’s all.”

“Ah, I’m just a little tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“No?” He flicked his eyes toward you again. “Why not?”

You hesitated. He felt it more than saw it. The way the air shifted slightly, how you didn’t answer right away. He tightened his jaw without meaning to. He could feel you looking at him now, studying his face like there was something there worth inspecting.

“What?” he asked, turning his head just enough to smirk at you.

“I dunno,” you said finally. “I had a weird dream, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep. And then Mr. Darcy broke a glass in the kitchen, so I got up and just started my day.”

Frankie exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Did he hurt himself?”

“Nope.”

“So,” he said, dragging out the word, “what’d you dream about? A nightmare?”

“Nevermind,” you said, shifting to look out the window. “I can never make sense of my dreams, anyway.”

“Tell me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No. It’s embarrassing.”

He frowned, exaggerated, amused.

“Oh, come on. How bad could it be? Did you pee yourself?”

You gasped, reaching out to swat his arm. He grinned but kept his eyes on the road.

“You totally did,” he said, nodding to himself. “I can hear it in your silence. You peed your pants.”

“I did not pee my pants!” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I’m not telling you what it was about, anyway. You’ll just have to wonder forever.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, shaking his head.

“No, don’t say that. Now I won’t be able to sleep. I’ll lie awake at night, tormented. Wondering—what could my fake girlfriend have possibly dreamed about?”

“And how’s your mom?” you asked, shifting the conversation onto safer ground.

Frankie’s response was brief, almost dismissive.

“She’s fine,” he said. “Waiting for you.” He didn’t elaborate, didn’t offer any additional details. Just left it at that.

Five minutes later, Helena greeted you at the door, pulling you into a warm hug, her arms wrapped tightly around you before she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh, look at you,” she said, leaning back just enough to take you in, her hands still resting lightly on your arms. “You look absolutely stunning, darlin'. So beautiful.”

Your face grew warm almost instantly.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quiet, slightly embarrassed.

Frankie watched from the side, noting the way your shoulders tensed, the way your gaze dipped slightly. The flush on your cheeks made the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

“You look beautiful too,” you told her, voice sincere. “I love your dress.”

Helena cocked her head to the side, clearly pleased.

“Oh, really? Thank you, sweetheart. That’s so kind.” She stepped back, ushering you inside. “Come in, come in.”

Frankie, lingering behind, cleared his throat. “No hug for me?”

Helena rolled her eyes but turned to him anyway, pulling him into a firm, affectionate embrace before kissing his cheek.

“You look handsome too,” she said, pulling back slightly to study him. Her eyes narrowed. “But you look different. Did you do something to yourself? Get a haircut?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

She nodded slowly, then reached up, brushing her fingers against the sharp line of his jaw.

“I know what it is,” she mused, her voice teasing. “You always get cuter when you’re in love.” She winked at him.

Behind them, you laughed softly, watching the interaction unfold with something close to fond amusement. Frankie turned his head just slightly, just enough to catch the expression on your face, before exhaling and stepping toward you. His hand found the small of your back as he guided you further inside.

Helena led the way into the living room.

“So, where’s Mai?” Frankie asked as they walked.

“She’s on her way,” Helena said. “She went to the movies with Pam.”

Frankie motioned toward the couch, silently telling you to sit. You did, and a moment later, he dropped down beside you, his body landing a little too close, his thigh just barely brushing against yours.

“Ah,” he said, for no apparent reason.

Helena took the armchair next to you, leaning in slightly, her gaze warm, affectionate.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you said, mirroring her smile. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m wonderful,” she sighed, settling back. “Even better now that I have the two of you here. For a second, I thought something had happened—you know how Frankie is. Not exactly the most attentive on the phone.”

You turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah. What are we gonna do?”

He was reclining against the couch now, one arm stretched across the backrest behind you. You glanced at him, at the way his shirt pulled slightly across his chest, at the way his fingers tapped absently against the cushion. For some reason, your gaze drifted downward before snapping back up. He shifted in his seat, like he’d noticed.

“Why don’t you just give me your number?” Helena suggested with a smile. “That way we—”

“Okay, c'mon,” Frankie interrupted suddenly, grabbing your hand before you could process it, pulling you up with him. “I’ll show you my old room. Until Mai gets here.”

“Francisco,” you muttered, glaring at him.

You turned to Helena instead. “Do you need help with anything?”

She stood too, shaking her head. “No, no, everything’s ready. You’re my special guest, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing. Go on, go.” She waved a hand, already half-smiling at the whole interaction.

Frankie, still holding your hand, tugged you gently toward the hallway. You sighed, letting him lead you.

“You didn’t have to cut her off like that,” you muttered under your breath, the words meant for him alone.

Frankie didn’t acknowledge the reproach, didn’t slow down or look back. He just kept walking, pulling you along with him like it was inevitable. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was unyielding, like he knew you wouldn’t follow if he let go too soon. The house felt quieter away from the living room.

Upstairs, he stopped in front of a door—varnished wood, gleaming under the dim light of the hallway. Without a word, he pushed it open and, in the same motion, released your wrist. He tipped his head toward the room, an unspoken instruction.

You stepped inside, arms crossed, your gaze adjusting to the dark. Behind you, Frankie shut the door and switched on a lamp perched on his bedside table. The room shifted under the glow, details surfacing in the soft light.

“Do you have any idea what would happen if my mom got your number?” he asked, leaning back against the desk by the window. His arms folded over his chest, and he watched you move through his space, the sight of you here—among his things—unsettling in a way he couldn’t name.

The room was warm, familiar in the way all well-lived-in spaces are. The walls, a deep kensington blue, were cluttered with posters—Pearl Jam, Wu-Tang Clan, Alice in Chains. You took them in, then drifted toward the bookshelf, running your fingers over the spines of neatly arranged books and notebooks. Star Wars figurines stood like sentinels between them and a couple of sports trophies sat beside them, dust catching in the light.

“Oh, I dunno,” you mused, tilting your head, “would she… talk to me?” You shot him a glance. “I didn’t know you were a Star Wars fan.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. Exactly. She’d talk to you. She’d call you. And we don’t need that kind of closeness, given our situation.”

“Our situation,” you echoed, rolling the words around your mouth like they were foreign to you. Then you turned fully, closing the distance between you and him with a measured step. You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, you’re probably right. But you didn’t have to cut her off and haul me off the couch like that. That was rude.”

He shrugged, the motion effortless, indifferent. “It was the first thing that came to mind. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” you said, as you moved through the room, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

Near the desk, a basket ball rested against the leg of a folding chair, a black duffel bag slumped beside it, the fabric worn at the seams. The bed—narrow, neatly made—sat in the center of the room, facing the window. The dark gray comforter was pulled tight, a sharp contrast to the scattered items around it. On one bedside table, the lamp cast a soft glow, grounding the space in warmth. On the other, a picture frame leaned against a small stack of books, their spines creased from use.

Frankie stood a few steps away, arms still folded, head tilted down slightly, his gaze steady on you. There was something guarded in the way he watched, like he was waiting to see what you would find, what conclusions you might draw from the objects that had quietly accumulated over the years.

You wandered to the dresser, your attention caught by the corkboard mounted just above it. Photographs, ticket stubs, and scraps of old notes filled the space, overlapping in a way that suggested years of quiet additions rather than any real attempt at curation.

“No way,” you said suddenly, stepping closer, your fingers hovering just above a small, slightly faded photo. “This is you?”

Frankie moved beside you, following your gaze. The picture showed a little boy, no more than three years old, grinning at the camera, his face lit with pure, unfiltered joy. From the chest down, he was covered in mud, tiny fingers gripping a garden hose.

“It’d be weird if it wasn’t me, don’t you think?” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, it would be pretty weird.”

Your eyes drifted upward, landing on another photograph—an even younger version of him, maybe two years old, perched on his father’s lap. He was mid-laugh, his smile so wide it turned his eyes into crescents. His dad, leaning in, was pointing at the camera, as if directing him where to look.

“Oh,” you murmured, something warm settling in your chest. “You were so cute.” You lifted your hand slightly, gesturing toward the photo with the tip of your finger.

Frankie stared at it, something shifting in his expression. The smile that surfaced was small, almost absentminded. 

In that photo, Gabriel would have been close to the age Frankie was now. The thought struck him in a way he hadn’t expected, settling deep in his ribs.

He didn’t let himself think about him often—not for too long, not in any real way. The memories had sharp edges, capable of cutting through even the best intentions. He told himself he was lucky, that he’d had the kind of dad people spent lifetimes wishing for. But no matter how he framed it, the truth remained: he had lost him. And no matter how many times he tried to reach back through memory, to anchor himself in the past, he would never see him again in this life.

Most of the time, he was fine. He moved through his days with ease, followed the usual rhythms of his life without slipping too deep into the spaces where grief still lingered. He had learned how to exist in a version of reality where his dad was no longer a part of it. And most days, it was almost easy. Almost.  

But then, without warning, something would pull him back. It could be anything—a smell, a sound, a fleeting glimpse of a stranger on the street with the same posture, the same salt-and-pepper hair. Sometimes it was the scent of coffee, and for a split second, he’d expect to hear his father humming under his breath, flipping through the newspaper at the kitchen table. Sometimes it was a phrase, a turn of speech, something small and unremarkable that sent his mind reeling backward.  

Once, it was toast crumbs on the floor.  

He had been walking through the kitchen, barefoot, when he felt them under his heel—tiny, uneven grains pressing into his skin. The sensation triggered something immediate and sharp. His mind conjured the memory before he had a chance to resist it: his mom, sighing in exasperation as she swept under the table, grumbling about how his dad never remembered to wipe away the mess after breakfast. And sure enough, every time you moved a chair, there they were—scattered remnants of toast from the morning, a predictable constant.  

But now, the floor was always clean. There were no crumbs anymore.

No one forgot to sweep. No one was there to be scolded.  

Frankie crouched down without thinking, pressing his fingertips to the specks of bread as if touching them would anchor him to something. He stayed like that for too long, staring at them, his chest tightening, his throat burning with something too large to swallow down. And then, before he could stop himself, he was crying—suddenly, violently, without preamble.  

Because that was what grief was, mostly. A quiet, steady thing that made itself small enough to carry until, inevitably, it found a way to remind you of its weight.

“You look a lot like your dad,” you said suddenly, pulling him out of his own head.  

Frankie exhaled through his nose, his gaze flicking back to the photograph. “You think so?”  

You nodded, studying the picture again. “Yeah. Same eyes, same smile. Same head full of hair.”  

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. “That’s a great compliment. Thank you.”  

“It is,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “You’re welcome.”  

Your eyes met for a second too long, something unspoken stretching between you before you looked away. You spun on your heels, crossing the room to the bed and sitting down with an easy drop, the mattress shifting under your weight. You pressed your palms into the comforter at your sides, fingers splayed behind you, staring absently at your feet.  

“It’s nice of your mom to keep your room the way it was,” you said, glancing around again. “Do you ever sleep in here?”  

Frankie walked over and sat beside you, his posture relaxed, knee bumping lightly against yours.

“Not so much anymore,” he admitted. “But I stayed for a couple of weeks after I left the CAG.”  

You turned your head toward him, brows pulling together like the question had come to you suddenly, urgently.

“And where do you live?”  

“At my house.”  

“And where is your house?”  

“In my neighborhood.”  

A sharp sigh escaped you, and you let yourself fall back onto the bed, arms sprawled out as you stared at the ceiling. Frankie laughed, watching you with something like amusement. You turned your head, meeting his gaze for a few beats longer than necessary before sitting up abruptly, as if realizing something all at once. Heat crept up your neck.  

You cleared your throat, stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye.  

The smile on Frankie’s face widened slightly. He shifted, propping himself up on his arm, leaning a little closer, just enough to make you notice.  

“Old Enfield,” he finally said.  

Your brows lifted. “That’s nice.”  

“Hartford Road,” he added. “Two bedroom, one bathroom.”  

“Are you trying to sell me your house?”  

He smirked. “A couple of trees in the yard for Darcy to sharpen his claws on.”  

“Oh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I bought him some toys for that.”  

Frankie tilted his head slightly. “I guarantee it doesn’t feel as good as a solid tree trunk.”  

“No?”  

“No.”  

“How do you know? Is that how you handle stress? You come home all tense, and the first thing you do is scratch your tree?”  

A slow, amused smile crept onto your lips, your eyes bright in the warm lamplight.  

Frankie huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah? Imagine how many trees I’ve torn up since I met you.”  

Your mouth parted slightly in exaggerated offense, and you let out a sharp gasp. “Really? What does that even mean? You must think about me a lot.”  

Frankie snorted. “How smug.”

A teasing smile curled at the corners of your lips. “If it bothers you that much, it must be true.”

"Sure."

"I bet you think about me."

"I really wouldn't take it as a compliment."

"Why not? Isn't your mind a good place for me?"

Frankie exhaled a quiet laugh, something just shy of a scoff.

“I can think of plenty of places you’d rather be.”

"Oh I dunno," you said, glancing around as if considering your options. "Seems pretty comfortable in here."

"For you, maybe." He tapped a finger against his temple. "Imagine being me. Living with a restless woman pacing around up here all day."

"Oh, baby. I've been there. All. My. Life. You can keep her, if you want."

Frankie let out a sharp laugh. “What, and lose my mind in the process?”

"Wow, Francisco." You turned to him fully now, studying his face in the low light. "Does she really get to you that much?"

"Oh, I bet you'd love that."

"Look at us," voice light, teasing. "Getting to know each other."

Frankie exhaled sharply, tilting his head as he settled back against the mattress. His hand rested just behind yours, close enough that the heat from his skin registered against your own.

“You really woke up in a particular mood today, huh?” he murmured. “Not bad for someone who barely slept and, you know, wet the bed.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“I did not wet the bed,” you said, dragging out each word for emphasis. “Jesus, let it go.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you tipped your head back, closing your eyes.  

Frankie smirked, but it faltered when his gaze drifted—unintentionally at first, and then not at all—to the exposed curve of your neck. The soft skin there, the way the dim light caught the angle of your jaw. His stomach tensed, a sharp, unwanted awareness settling into his chest. He looked away fast, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, fixing his eyes on the floor.  

What the hell was wrong with him?  

He wasn’t supposed to be looking at you like that. He wasn’t supposed to notice the slope of your shoulder or the way your breath moved through your ribs. His eyes weren’t supposed to track your every shift, like his body had decided on its own to be attuned to yours. But it was happening, whether he liked it or not.  

It hadn’t always been like this.  

Once, things were simpler—sharper, with cleaner edges. He hadn’t tolerated you, and you hadn’t tolerated him. That was the nature of things. You hardly spoke, and when you did, your conversations were clipped, necessary, transactional. Sure, he’d always known you were attractive—he wasn’t fucking blind—but it had never been something that lingered, something that rooted itself in his thoughts. The way you grated on him had left no space for anything else.  

Yeah. That was the dynamic. A bad relationship, plain and simple. No subtext, no buried tension.  

But something had shifted between the trip to Dallas and now. If Frankie had to pinpoint the exact moment, he’d place it right on Helena’s birthday. Because ever since that night, something had been moving inside him, spreading through his chest like a slow-burning fire, like an untamed creature waking up after years of stillness.  

A different kind of curiosity.  

The urge to understand what went on in your head, to know what you thought about when you were quiet, when your gaze lingered somewhere far away. A desire to pick apart the details of your life, the things you held close, the things you refused to share. And that morning, after the party, when he caught the shift in your expression—something breaking behind your eyes, something pulling you inward and shutting you off—he recognized it immediately. Because he had seen that same look staring back at him in the mirror more times than he could count.  

And the second he recognized it, something unfamiliar and unsteady took root in him. A pull, an absurd, inexplicable need to get you out of that place—to drag you away from whatever was weighing you down, from whatever was making your world feel so suffocatingly blue.  

After that, he started thinking about you more often. Too often. And it unsettled him, the way his thoughts drifted to you without permission, how your voice lingered in his mind long after a conversation ended. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  

And then there was the argument in the car. That had been worse than he expected. Not just because he’d been careless—insensitive, pressing too hard on things that weren’t his to touch—but because your words had struck something raw in him, something buried deep. And instead of feeling angry at you for it, he only felt the sharp sting of truth. It hurt, yeah, but it wasn’t the kind of hurt that made him resent you. It was the kind that made him resent himself a little more.

The weeks that followed were filled with thoughts of you, tangled and persistent, full of doubt and questions he wasn’t ready to answer.  

And then he went to see you.  

And the moment he did, he knew—whatever had changed, whatever had started that night at Helena’s birthday, it wasn’t something he could ignore anymore. Because it was here now, settled into his ribs, pressing against his lungs every time he looked at you.

And there was something different about you too. Frankie couldn’t ignore it. The way you looked at him—out of the corner of your eye, like you were in on some secret he hadn’t been let in on. You’d done it in the car, then again downstairs, and now, here, in the dim glow of his bedroom. It was subtle but persistent, like you knew something he didn’t.  

The strangest part was that it didn’t bother him. If anything, it only deepened his curiosity. This version of you—relaxed, playful, teasing—was unfamiliar but undeniably intriguing. It made him want to look closer, to figure out what had shifted between you.  

He glanced at you again. And there you were, already looking back at him.  

“What did you dream?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.  

Your head tilted slightly. “Why do you care?”  

“I didn’t, at first. But you’re being so secretive about it, and now I’m… curious.”  

“Too curious for your own good, I assume. Like a cat.” You crossed one leg over the other, shifting your weight, angling your body toward him.  

Frankie held your gaze, resisting the instinct to look anywhere else.  

“That’s another thing I have in common with them,” he mused.  

A small laugh escaped you. “Oh yeah? Sharpening your claws and letting curiosity win?”  

“Aha.” The corner of his mouth lifted.  

“Well,” you said, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “If I were you, I’d be careful. Last time Mr. Darcy let his curiosity get the better of him, he broke a glass.” You paused, watching him closely. “And you don’t want to break anything, do you?”

"I'm still deciding."  

You studied him, head tilted slightly, lips pursed just enough to suggest amusement.

"I'll tell you, but only if you give me something in return. A fair trade, don’t you think?"  

Frankie clicked his tongue, considering.

"Wel, it depends," he said, scratching his chin with the hand that had been resting in his lap. "What kind of information are we talking about?"  

"Tell me what you were talking about with Will."  

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's not that interesting."  

"Come on, tell me." You leaned in, just a fraction, your gaze locked onto his. "I deserve to know, don’t I? It’s about me. Tell me, and I’ll tell you about my dream."  

"I’ll tell you anything but that—for now."  

"Why?"  

Frankie exhaled, deep and measured.

"Alright. Don’t tell me your dream, then." He turned his head, fixing his eyes on the far wall, where an old, faded Soundgarden poster hung.  

You stiffened beside him. He felt it. And even though he tried to resist, his gaze found its way back to you.  

"I’ll tell you," he said, softer this time. "I promise."  

"When?"  

"I just need to be sure about something first."  

"Sure about what?"  

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you, studying your face as if searching for something. His eyes traced the slope of your cheek, the set of your mouth, the way your lashes flickered as you watched him. Then, as if deciding against saying more, he dropped his gaze to the floor and let out another sigh, this one heavier.  

"We should head down," he murmured, shifting to stand.  

You stayed where you were, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He moved toward the door but didn’t open it right away. Instead, he turned, waiting for you. His hand rested on the handle, fingers tapping once.  

"C'mon," he said.  

Your body moved before your mind fully caught up. You stood abruptly, crossing the space between you in two quick strides. But instead of simply following him, you reached out, placing your hand firmly over his on the door handle. Then, without hesitation, you pushed it open yourself, forcing him to step back, now standing just beside you.  

His brows knit together, lips curving into something both amused and perplexed.  

You stopped, inches from him, the back of your shoulder nearly brushing his chest. Then, tilting your head slightly, you looked up at him, your voice lower now, almost conspiratorial.  

"It was a wet dream."  

Then you walked out, not waiting for his reaction, not sparing him even a glance.  

Frankie stood frozen in place, mouth slightly open, as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. His hand remained on the door handle, grip slack, his gaze fixed on the empty hallway where you’d just disappeared.

Had he imagined it, or had you actually just told him that—No. No, you were messing with him. That was all.

It was simple. You wanted to get under his skin, to push him just enough that he’d slip up. You wanted to know what he and Will had talked about, and this was your strategy. It made sense, really. A calculated move. If you could make him uneasy, stoke his curiosity, you might get him to spill something. Let something slip. But Frankie wasn’t an idiot—he wasn’t going to fall for it.

At least now he understood what you were doing. And honestly? He didn’t mind. If this was how you wanted to play it, he could match you, step for step.

After a long moment—he wasn’t sure how many seconds had passed—he finally moved, stepping out of the room and heading downstairs. He could hear Mai’s voice, light and animated, drifting in from the living room. She was talking to you.

When he walked in, his sister looked up, her face brightening. She stood from her spot beside you and crossed the room to meet him, wrapping her arms around his torso in a warm hug.

“How are you?” she asked, patting his back with quick, affectionate taps.

“Good, good,” he murmured, catching your gaze for half a second over Mai’s shoulder. Then he pulled back, looking down at his sister with a small, affectionate smile. “You look cute, huh?”

“Thanks, you too,” she said, pinching his cheek between her fingers before letting go. Then, with a sly grin, she jabbed him lightly in the stomach. “Now, tell me—what were you doing upstairs with your girl, huh? You know the door should always stay open.”

Frankie snorted, shaking his head. Before he could answer, Helena appeared in the doorway, a bottle of wine balanced against her shoulder.

“Come on, dinner’s ready,” she announced with a smile.

Thirty minutes later, you were all seated around the dining table, the conversation ebbing and flowing around books and different editions of classics. It wasn’t a surprise, really. Frankie’s mom was a literature professor, you owned a bookstore, and you’d studied literature. Naturally, the discussion revolved mostly around the two of you. Frankie sat back, watching, listening, while Mai occasionally glanced at him with raised eyebrows and an amused little smirk.

“I’ll come by as soon as I can,” Helena was saying, raising her wine glass to her lips. “Promise you’ll save me a copy?”

You nodded. You were seated next to Frankie, but you’d barely acknowledged him all evening.

“Of course,” you said easily. “It’s a promise.”

The book in question was a limited edition of Madame Bovary—one of the best, reliable translations and beautifully restored prints.

“Thank you, darlin',” Helena said. “Although I still believe nothing compares to reading in the original language, don’t you think?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed, setting your wine glass down on the tablecloth. “That’s why I took Italian lessons. I wanted to read The Divine Comedy .” You laughed, a light, melodic sound. Frankie’s eyes flicked to you, drawn there without thinking, but your attention remained on his mother. “And when I finally did, it was incredible. The words sound different—almost like music. It’s not the same in English. So much gets lost in translation.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” Helena nodded enthusiastically. “I read it in Italian too! Such a stunning piece of work. Dante was something else.”

“I love it,” you said. “And the story with Beatrice is just—well, it’s fascinating. Or, I suppose, their non-story.”

Helena smiled at that, something fond in her expression.

Mai, looking between the two of you, arched an eyebrow. “What happened with Dante and Beatrice?” she asked, half-laughing at the intensity of the discussion.

“Oh, it’s terribly romantic,” Helena sighed, reaching for her daughter’s hand. “They met as children—very young. And by all accounts, Dante fell in love with her at first sight. But they never really spoke. Almost never interacted at all. He only ever saw her, passing by on the street.”

Mai frowned slightly. “That’s kind of—”

“Then,” Helena continued, “Beatrice married someone else. And she died young, at twenty-five. But Dante never forgot her. He wrote about her, again and again. And in The Divine Comedy, she becomes this celestial figure. A messenger in Hell, guiding him through Purgatory. And when he finally sees her again, it’s as if he’s nine years old, looking at her for the first time. And in Paradise, she goes to heaven—because that’s where she belongs. Like an angel.”

Mai blinked. “That’s...depressing.”

Helena sighed, shaking her head as if she’d heard this take before. Frankie let out a quiet chuckle, the sound barely audible over the clinking of silverware. You, sitting beside him, smiled in amusement but said nothing.

“What?” Mai demanded, raising her eyebrows. “She died. And anyway, how did he even know it was real? She married someone else, didn’t she? For a reason.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Helena said, her tone affectionate but certain, “we’re talking about centuries ago. Marriages weren’t exactly love matches. Most were arranged. I think Dante himself was engaged as a child.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in, setting your wine glass down. “Beatrice was married off at fifteen, and Dante was engaged by the time he was twelve. They saw each other once when they were kids, and then years later, they passed each other in the street. She greeted him—just a simple hello—and that same night, he dreamt of La Vita Nuova.” You paused, pressing your lips together for a moment, as if carefully recalling the details. “I think they might have crossed paths twice more after that, but by then, I think she was already married. Dante could never have done more than dream about her.”

Helena exhaled softly, her expression wistful. “It was an impossible love.”

Mai looked vaguely amused. “Even if it was unrequited?”

Helena nodded. “Unrequited, unrealized—it doesn’t matter. He loved and idealized her in his own way. She became his muse.”

Mai nodded, unconvinced. “I get it. Still, he kinda sounds like a creep.”

Helena exhaled sharply, already losing patience. Frankie had seen this a hundred times—the exasperation, the incredulous little shake of her head, the way her lips pursed before she spoke. It was fun.

“He never even went near her, Maia,” she said, waving a hand for emphasis. “It’s not like Dante was some kind of obsessed pervert, lurking around corners. He respected her. He didn’t follow her, didn’t bother her.”

“And how do you know that?” Mai pressed, her tone deliberately provocative.

Helena let out a dramatic sigh and gave her daughter a light smack on the hand.

“You do this on purpose!” she accused, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Then, suddenly, you spoke. “And what do you think?”

Frankie looked at you, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Yes. What do you think? About Dante and Beatrice.” You were looking at him, really looking at him, your gaze steady and expectant.

He blinked, the remnants of his earlier smile fading as he processed the question. From the other side of the table, Helena and Mai turned toward him, equally interested. It seemed they were curious too.

Frankie hesitated, eyes flickering from your face to some vague point behind your shoulder, as if the answer might be written there. Then, after a few seconds, he met your gaze again.

“I think…” He exhaled through his nose, thoughtful. “We’ve all been through it.”

There was a beat of silence, but his eyes stayed on yours, just a fraction too long.

Helena gasped, her expression scandalized. “Frankie!”

He turned toward her, confused. “What?”

“You can’t say that in front of your girlfriend!”

You and Mai burst into laughter at the same time.

Frankie frowned. “Say what?”

Helena gave him an exasperated look. “We’ve all been through it? Are you saying you have your own Beatrice out there somewhere?”

Frankie froze, mouth slightly open, eyebrows raised. For a second, he’d forgotten—forgotten that, in his mother’s mind, you were his girlfriend. Forgotten that he wasn’t just speaking to you, alone.

“Oh,” he said, almost under his breath. Then, clearing his throat, he added, “Right. She’s my Beatrice.”

Your eyes widened slightly, amusement flickering across your face as his gaze returned to you. A small, knowing smile started to unravel at the corners of your lips.

“But with a happy ending, right?” Frankie added, tilting his head ever so slightly, a smirk forming.

You lifted your chin, watching him with something that looked a lot like affection—but softer, more playful, something almost unspoken.

“Clever, huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“That’s right, honey, don’t let him off the hook,” Mai teased, narrowing her eyes at her brother like she was onto something.

Frankie let out a dry laugh. “Shut up.”

Mai grinned, triumphant.

Then you tilted your head slightly, eyes flicking to Helena. “Now that I think about it… didn’t they say Dante might’ve had narcolepsy?”

Helena’s brows lifted in consideration.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” she admitted, tapping a finger lightly against her wine glass. “But I think some people speculate that would explain his blackouts and visions.”

“It would make a lot of sense,” you said, thoughtful. “So much of what he wrote about involved sleep, passing out… hallucinations.”

Helena nodded, already intrigued.

“That’s true, that’s true.” Her eyes brightened. “Now you’ve got me curious—I’ll have to look into that.”

You smiled, lifting your glass to your lips, taking a small sip before setting it down. Then you exhaled, something soft and fascinated in your expression.

“It’s amazing,” you murmured. “Dreams, dreams and all that.”

Frankie was looking at you.

He wasn’t sure why, but the way you said it—like you were half here, half somewhere else entirely—made his stomach turn over. The side of his mouth twitched, something close to a smirk, but his gaze was steady, fixed. Unrelenting.

And yet, you didn’t even glance at him. Your eyes stayed on Helena and Mai, following their conversation, nodding along as they spoke. Whatever pull you had on him, it was effortless. Completely unintentional.

He dragged his attention back to the table just as Mai started complaining about a recent freelance project—a website for some clothing brand—that had turned into a disaster when her laptop decided to die mid-edit.

Dinner, all things considered, was a success.

After the plates were cleared, Helena announced it was time for dessert and returned moments later with a chocolate and strawberry cake that looked unfairly good. She uncorked a bottle of late-harvest wine, grinning as she held it up. “Sauvignon Blanc, to elevate the chocolate.”

Frankie poured himself a glass, just one. He still had to drive, even if, at this point, with the way you were acting, he could’ve easily finished the entire bottle.

By the time the evening wound down, the warmth of summer had settled thick and golden over the front porch. The air clung to bare legs, and a gentle breeze ghosted over your neck, light and fleeting.

Helena pulled Frankie into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek, her palm lingering against his face for a moment. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” she said softly. “And pick up the damn phone every once in a while.”

Mai hugged him next, squeezing him tight before pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “And don’t be an idiot with avoidant attachment,” she added pointedly.

Frankie rolled his eyes, but there was affection in it.

With you, they were just as warm, maybe even more so. Helena hugged you like you were already part of the family, reminding you to come back soon. She patted your arm as she stepped back, eyes bright. “I’ll stop by the shop for my book, okay?,” she promised, “and I’ll buy you a coffee while I’m there.”

Frankie stood by, watching the exchange, resisting the sudden, inexplicable urge to cut in. To say you had to go. To say something.

But he didn’t.

Now, you were in the car.

As always, music poured from the speakers, filling the quiet space between you. It had a certain magic to it at this hour—the way the city lights blurred past the windows, the hush of the late-night streets, the familiar warmth of a song that somehow felt perfectly timed. Drive by The Cars.

Neither of you spoke as it played, the soft, melancholy synth weaving through the silence, until the lyrics seemed to catch both of your attention at once.

Who's gonna pay attention

to your dreams?

A small, knowing smile pulled at your lips. You turned your head, resting your chin against the palm of your hand, elbow propped on the door as you looked out at the city.

Beside you, Frankie let out a quiet huff of laughter, his gaze flicking toward you for a second too long. He could tell you thought it was funny too.

“C’mon.” His voice was low, edged with amusement. “Spit it out.”

You glanced at him, but his eyes were fixed ahead, steady on the road.

“What?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Just nodded, as if confirming something to himself, then kept driving in silence until you rolled up to a red light.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said then, finally looking at you. This time, fully.

You blinked at him. “What am I trying to do?”

His gaze was unreadable, the dim light from the dashboard catching on the sharp angle of his jaw.

“It’s obvious.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “A wet dream, you said?” His eyes flicked down your frame, slowly, then back to your face, his expression smug. “Wet. So you did wet the bed. I’ll take that as confirmation.”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at him. Amused, despite yourself. Trying to appear unimpressed but failing.

“I won’t tell you anything about it without a fair exchange, Francisco.”

“Yeah,” he said easily. “Not interested.”

“You don’t look that way.”

He scoffed, lifting a shoulder. “What do you mean? Look at me. I don’t care.”

You tilted your head, studying him.

“Is that why you went quiet at the table?”

Something flashed in his eyes, something quick and unreadable, before he turned his head back toward the road.

“Apparently, you’re more interested in my interest than I am, baby,” he murmured. His voice dipped just enough to make your stomach pull tight. Then, a small smirk. “Why’s that?”

His head tilted slightly, gaze lowering, and your eyes instinctively followed the movement.

You said nothing. Just faced forward again, and he did the same.  

When the light changed, Frankie pressed down on the gas, the car gliding forward into the quiet, empty streets. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the drive.  

You probably hadn’t even dreamed anything. You were probably just making it up to get under his skin. And he didn’t care.  

Right?  

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to ask. Wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction.  

So he kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel, and let the silence settle between you.  

By the time he pulled up in front of your house, he just turned the car off without thinking, like some part of him knew he wasn’t leaving just yet.  

Neither of you moved.  

The car sat still, parked beneath the dull glow of the streetlamp, filling with the kind of silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable, but wasn’t tense either. 

You sat with your hands in your lap, absently twisting your fingers together, and Frankie leaned against the driver’s side door, resting his head in his palm, his elbow propped up. His gaze flickered out the window, scanning the empty sidewalk, but every few seconds, his eyes found their way back to you.  

Then, as if remembering something, he straightened.  

“So,” he said, voice cutting through the quiet, and you turned toward him. “About skydiving—there’s a place about an hour from here that’s really good. An old friend of mine works there, said they’ve got some spots open this month.”  

Your lips parted slightly, a quick inhale.  

“Really?” A smile was already tugging at the corners of your mouth. “When?”  

“As soon as you want, I hope.”  

“This weekend?” you asked, eyes lighting up. “Do they work weekends?”  

Frankie chuckled at your enthusiasm, shaking his head.

“Yeah, of course they do. You wanna go this weekend?”  

“Are you kidding?” You turned in your seat fully now, excitement buzzing in your voice. “Of course!”  

He laughed at that, his own grin slipping easily into place.

“Alright, done. I’ll book it early tomorrow.” He reached for his phone, unlocking it with one hand. “I can send you the website if you wanna check it out.”  

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah, definitely. God, that’s crazy.” You exhaled, leaning back into your seat, eyes still shining.  

“I think you’re gonna love it.”  

“You think so?”  

“I’m sure,” he said, glancing down at his screen as he tapped something in. A second later, your phone buzzed.  

You picked it up, lips pressing together as you bit back a smile.  

“Yeah,” you murmured. “So am I.”  

Then your brow furrowed slightly. “How much is the jump?”  

“Don’t worry about it.”  

Your head snapped toward him. “Why?”  

Frankie just waved a hand, already setting his phone back down.  

“Hey, no,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m sure it’s not cheap. Just tell me and—”  

“No, no.” His voice was firm, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and steady. “Don’t even think about it.”  

Your mouth opened slightly, but he cut you off before you could protest.  

“Consider it my conciliation gift.”  

You stared at him for a second, watching the way he sat there, relaxed, like it was settled. Like you couldn’t argue even if you wanted to.  

Your fingers tightened slightly around your phone.  

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head again, but softer this time. Less like you were disagreeing. More like you didn’t know what to do with him.  

Frankie just smirked.

Silence settled again, but this time, it didn’t feel charged. Just easy.   

Frankie could tell you were thinking about something. He recognized the way your gaze lingered outside the window, the way your fingers lightly traced over the hem of your skirt, absentminded, like whatever was on your mind had wrapped itself around you completely.   

And you weren’t in a hurry to leave the car.   

He hesitated, debating whether to ask. Then, before he could overthink it, he did.  

“You okay?” His voice was quiet, careful. He reminded himself to tread lightly, to not push too much, to not ask something that might put you off. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.  

You didn’t answer right away. Just exhaled, slow and measured, before speaking.  

“Harry’s wedding is on friday.”    

Right. The wedding. He’d forgotten. But you hadn’t.   

From the tone of your voice, it didn’t sound like it hurt the way it used to, like the wound had at least stopped bleeding. But you still cared.  

“Oh,” he said, dragging a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t sure how to phrase his next words, wasn’t sure what was the right thing to ask. “And how do you feel about that?”  

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, almost like you found his question funny, and turned to look at him with something warm in your eyes.   

“Please don’t do that.”  

Frankie frowned slightly. “Do what?”  

“Tiptoe around me.” You tilted your head, giving him a look, affectionate but teasing. “I know our fight was... ugly. But you don’t have to treat me like I might break. I’m okay, really.”  

He sighed through his nose, shifting in his seat. “I just don’t wanna sound nosy. Or ask something I shouldn’t.”  

“I know.” You nodded, your voice softer now. “And I appreciate that. But I promise you can ask me about this.”  

Frankie watched you for a second before nodding back.  

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, bracing himself before speaking again.  

“Do you wanna go?”  

You didn’t answer immediately. Your fingers tapped lightly against your chin, your eyes unfocused, staring ahead like you were untangling something in your mind.  

Then, finally, you let out a small breath.  

“I feel a little silly,” you admitted. “But I think I do.”  

Frankie leaned back against his seat, brow furrowing slightly.  

“Why?”

“I know you’re right.”  

Your voice was steady, but something in your expression wavered as you turned to look at him. The dim streetlight outside cast a soft glow across your face, catching the shine in your eyes, making them look almost luminous in the quiet darkness of the car.  

“There’s no real reason to go,” you admitted. “No logical one, at least. It’d be... masochistic, probably. But at the same time, I feel like I need to bury all of this. Just see it. See it with my own eyes. Put a bow on it and give it away, let it go. You know?”  

Frankie didn’t say anything, just listened, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel.  

“I think I’m close to that,” you continued, more to yourself than to him. “I wasn’t before. I wasn’t that night, when we argued, but after that... I don’t know. I think fighting with you even forced me to face it.” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, almost amused. “Because I realized I was still hurting over something that didn’t make sense. I mean, yeah, it was painful, but that’s it.”  

Frankie shifted slightly, glancing at you. “Don’t take what I said that night too seriously. I was—” He paused, searching for the right word. “Rude.”  

“Maybe,” you acknowledged. “But you weren’t wrong about some things.”  

For a moment, there was nothing but the distant hum of passing cars. You exhaled, more certain now.  

“I wanna go,” you said simply. “Put this behind me once and for all. See it with my own eyes.” You pressed your palms against your thighs, as if grounding yourself in the decision.  

Frankie nodded, like it was that simple. “Okay. If you want to go, let’s go.”  

You turned to him, frowning slightly. “You don’t have to come with me, though.”  

“What do you mean?” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to?”  

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head quickly. “I just mean—I’m already dragging you into this skydiving thing, and everything else on my list. I don’t want to take up your whole weekend.”  

“I don't mind.” The words came easy, deep and certain, like he didn’t even have to think about them.  

You studied him for a beat, like you were searching for a lie, for some sign that he was just saying it to be nice.  

Then, as if trying to call his bluff, you said, “Surely you have other things to do. Hasn’t Santi texted you? He bought a new grill. He sent me a pic.”

Frankie smothered a laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t mind going with you. I mean it.” His voice was even, assured, like there was no room for argument. “Besides, we made a deal, didn’t we? And if I remember correctly, I told you—I don’t break my promises.”  

“Yes, you did.” Your voice was light, but there was something behind it, something teasing. The kind of softness that made him want to keep talking just to hear it again. Your eyes lingered on his face, studying him like you were trying to memorize something.  

Frankie shifted slightly, leaning in just a little.

“And anyway,” he added, his voice dropping an octave, “I know you’re going to look incredible in whatever dress you wear. I’d be an idiot to miss that.”  

Your lips curved, the smile slow and knowing, your eyes locked on his. Neither of you moved, caught in something suspended. 

Frankie could feel the weight of it settle between you, something warm, something he shouldn’t want but did anyway. He couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.  

“What time?” he asked, voice quieter now.  

“The wedding starts at five. At the Marriott.”  

“I’ll pick you up at four-thirty.”  

“Okay.”  

“Perfect.”  

“I’ll be waiting.”  

“I know.”  

You held his gaze, the air between you thick and charged, like the last moment before a storm breaks. Then, just as he thought you might say something else, you reached for your seatbelt, unfastening it with an easy click. But instead of moving away, you leaned in first, just enough for him to catch the faintest hint of your perfume, just enough for his breath to catch.  

And then your lips were on his cheek, warm and soft, gone too soon.  

Frankie exhaled, gripping the steering wheel like it might keep him grounded.  

You pulled back without hesitation, opening the door and stepping out. The night swallowed you in one smooth movement, but before you turned to leave, you dipped down, peeking through the open window.  

“Goodnight, Dante.” Your head tilted, the corners of your lips still curved, your eyes bright beneath the streetlights.  

Frankie let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “Goodnight, Beatrice.”  

You didn’t linger. Just turned and walked toward your door, your steps unhurried, your silhouette framed by the dim porch light.  

Frankie watched you the entire time.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Taglis: @paleidiot @gothcsz @everyth1ngfan @katw474 @mellymbee @pedritosgirl2000 @tsunamistorm123 @jokesonthem @sunnytuliptime @greenwitchfromthewoods @ashleyfilm @darkheartgatita @joelmillerisapunk @nandan11 @whirlwindrider29 @onlythehobi @diabaroxa @yellowbrickyeti @daybleedsintonightfa11 @mys2425 @pigeonmama @speaktothehandpeasants @pez3639 @stylesispunk @imaginecrushes @isla-finke-blog @smiithys @jokesonthem @brittmb115 @sukivenue @awkwardmebaby @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @suzysface @picketniffler @gaypoetsblog @merz-8 @doblasftcisco @ultra-nina-bella

[paucubarsisimp]

stressed

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which charles helps relieve your stress

a/n: don’t forget to leave a request!

you sat at your desk, staring at the screen in front of you. it had been one of those days, the kind where everything felt like it was piling on top of you—deadlines, responsibilities, and just a never-ending list of things to do. your head throbbed, and your body felt like it had been drained of energy. but there was no escaping it. you had to keep going.

with a frustrated sigh, you pushed your chair back and rubbed your face with both hands. your mind was racing, but you didn’t feel like you were getting anywhere. it was one of those moments when you wished for a break—just a little time to breathe, to reset. you glanced over at the clock and realized that charles would be home soon. the thought of seeing him brought a small amount of comfort, though you knew you didn’t have much energy left to spend with him.

just as you were about to go back to work, your phone buzzed on the desk. it was charles.

charles: hey, mon amour. how’s your day going?

you quickly typed out a response.

you: long and stressful. so much to do, i feel like i’m drowning a little bit.

almost immediately, he replied.

charles: i’m sorry, mon amour. but don’t worry. i’ll take care of you when i get home. just hang in there, okay?

a small smile tugged at your lips. charles always knew how to make you feel a little bit better, even when everything felt chaotic. you quickly got back to work, trying to focus and push through the remaining tasks.

about an hour later, the sound of the front door opening reached your ears. you barely registered it at first, still lost in your thoughts, but when charles stepped into the room, everything seemed to slow down. he walked up behind you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. you leaned back slightly into his touch, closing your eyes.

“hey,” he said softly. “how are you feeling?”

“exhausted,” you admitted, turning in your chair to look up at him. “i don’t know how much longer i can keep going.”

charles frowned, his brow furrowing with concern. “mon amour, you need to take a break. this is too much. you’re working yourself into the ground.”

“i know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “it’s just… everything is piling up and i can’t seem to get ahead.”

he kneeled down in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. “look at me,” he said softly. “you’ve been doing so much. it’s okay to slow down, to ask for help. let me take care of you tonight.”

you let out a small breath, the tension in your shoulders starting to ease under his touch. “i don’t want to be a burden…”

“you’re never a burden,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “i love you. let me spoil you tonight, okay?”

before you could protest, charles stood up and reached out his hand to you. “come with me,” he said, guiding you toward the bathroom.

you blinked in confusion but followed him. charles had a gentle, almost playful smile on his face, and it made your heart flutter. once inside the bathroom, he turned to you with a quiet smile. “you’re going to take a bath. i’m going to make you pasta. we’re going to have a cozy night in, and you’re going to relax. that’s an order.”

you chuckled softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your chest. charles was right. you needed this. you needed him to take care of you. “thank you,” you whispered, stepping into the bath as he filled it with warm water.

the scent of lavender and vanilla began to fill the room as he added a few drops of your favorite bath oil. charles adjusted the water temperature, making sure it was just right for you. “there we go,” he said, looking at you with a satisfied smile. “now, take your time. i’ll be in the kitchen.”

you nodded, feeling the warmth of the water immediately seep into your tired muscles. charles gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before leaving the bathroom, and you let out a long, slow breath. as you sunk deeper into the bath, you allowed yourself to just relax for the first time all day. the warm water felt soothing against your skin, and you closed your eyes, letting the quiet calmness of the moment wash over you.

meanwhile, charles was in the kitchen, humming a quiet tune as he prepared dinner. he knew how much you loved pasta, and he wanted to make something that would not only fill your stomach but also lift your spirits. he pulled out all your favorite ingredients—tomatoes, garlic, fresh basil, and a block of parmesan. charles loved cooking, but tonight, he was doing it with a special purpose: to give you a moment of peace.

as he simmered the sauce, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. he loved taking care of you, especially when you were feeling overwhelmed. charles knew you were strong, but he also knew that sometimes, you needed to rest and let someone else shoulder the weight for a while. it made him happy to be that person for you.

he glanced at the clock. the pasta would be ready soon. he set the table with candles and your favorite glass of wine, making sure everything was perfect for when you came out of the bath.

when you finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel, you immediately noticed the soft glow of the candles and the delicious smell of food drifting from the kitchen. charles stood by the counter, a glass of wine in hand, looking at you with a proud smile.

“how was the bath?” he asked, his eyes soft.

“perfect,” you replied, feeling like a weight had been lifted. “thank you.”

“anything for you,” charles said, leading you to the table. he pulled out your chair for you, a small gesture that made your heart swell. as you sat down, you couldn’t help but smile at how thoughtful he was.

the pasta was amazing. charles had outdone himself, and you could tell that he had put so much care into making it just the way you liked it. the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, and for the first time all day, you felt at ease.

after dinner, charles cleared the table, and you moved to the couch, settling in under a warm blanket. charles joined you, pulling you close as he clicked on the tv. you let out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

“what do you want to watch?” he asked, scrolling through the options.

“something light,” you replied, snuggling into him. “i just want to relax.”

he smiled and found a movie that you both loved—a light-hearted comedy that always made you laugh. as the movie played, charles gently ran his fingers through your hair, the soothing motion making your eyelids feel heavier with each passing minute.

you were so comfortable, so cared for, that you almost forgot about the stress of the day. charles had a way of making everything feel okay, of reminding you that you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. in that moment, you felt safe, loved, and at peace.

“thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him as the movie continued in the background.

“always,” charles whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “i’ll always take care of you.”

you smiled, feeling your stress and worries melt away, knowing that as long as charles was by your side, everything would be okay.

[crazycat010]

I found you

PART ONE OF THE Gojo Satoru x reader (soulmates AU)

part 1 ; part 2

IN WHICH: Gojo finally finds his soulmate, after being given a very unlucky way of connecting to them.

fluff, angst, y/n is insecure about her looks and powers, her colleagues are worried sick about her. Almost-dying thoughts. Talks about death (fight and curses being killed), blood and scars. Fight between y/n and her friend.

Reader is written about as a female and there are references to her clothing. Happy ending.

word count=6.103 words

“Ahh” Gojo hissed, grabbing his face in pain, when was it going to end?

Another blow, this time directed to his abdomen, made him double over in pain.

“Gojo-sensei! Are you okay?” Yuji gasped, checking to see if he was okay.

“Yeah, don’t worry! M’fine.” The teacher laughed it off, used to the feeling.

“You sure got an unlucky way of connecting with your soulmate.” Maki added.

He shrugged his shoulders. He was one of the strongest, if not the strongest sorcerers alive, he came from a rich family, had many friends at Jujutsu High and a never ending list of women of all kinds who would do everything to even go on a date with him! All in all, he considered himself lucky, yeah, maybe his parents hadn’t been the best, being married for convenience and not love, but his mother loved him and his sister was very dear to him.

Nonetheless, everyone who learned his way of connecting with his soulmate cringed sorrowfully, pitying him: he felt most, if not all, the pain his soulmate felt. Though it was probably the same for his other half, it really made his life more difficult. It was like they were constantly getting beaten up for some reason, while he tried in every way possible to not hurt himself as to not pain them more.

With his students, he was headed to the entry of Tokyo Jujutsu High School’s complex, where he would meet with the students and teachers from the Kyoto College.

He’d heard a new teacher had recently arrived, but he didn’t care about it much. He had resigned from trying to reach his soulmate a long time ago, after many years spent searching.

He had gotten quite tired, and decided it would be better to let fate do his own thing. Was he gonna meet his soulmate soon? Had he already met her? Was he ever going to meet her?

Those question remained unanswered, and the ‘soulmate’ case closed.

After a long walk, they’d finally reached the meeting point. He had never realized the grounds were so big…

They were met with the usual group: the two teachers Gakuganji and Utahime and the students Mai Zenin, Kasumi Mia, Noritoshi Kamo, Aoi Todo and Mono Nishimiya.

Gojo looked around, expecting to see another teacher, but was found with nobody else.

Not having to hear the question, Utahime had already answered: “The new teacher had… some jobs to finish. She should arrive this evening.”

“Oh, okay! Well, let’s head to the school grounds so we can have a proper catch up!” Gojo said happily, masking yet another strong blow, this time aimed to the back of his neck.

The trek in the Foothills of Mount Mushiro was unusually quiet.

Seeing Gojo’s confused expression, Utahime said: “The kids have grown quite attached to our new teacher. They’ll get back to normal once she’s back.” She told him calmly, almost as she was reassuring herself.

“So, what’s up with this new teacher?” Satoru couldn’t help but ask, interested in this new mysterious figure.

“I promised not to do any spoilers, but I’ll tell you this: she’s very patient and kind, even more than me. The only problem is, taking care of everybody else, she often forgets to look after herself, getting injured because of her Cursed Technique. That pretty much sums up her entire personality, so I think you two will get along nicely.”

“Oh so they’re a she?” Gojo implied, smirking.

Utahime rolled her eyes, chuckling.

“Anyways, it’s good to know we’ve got someone else on our side. I bet you care a lot about her.” He replied.

“We all do…”

The dinner was filled with the usual laughter and chaotic environment, created by the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event. Yet Gojo could sense something was off: while most of the students were able to fake it and enjoy their time, Utahime, Mai and Todo looked nervous and uptight, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, Mei Mei said, taken back: “She’s here.”

Mai and Todo sprinted towards the door, Utahime and the rest of he students following closely.

Even the old Yoshinobu had gotten up and was slowly heading towards the entrance door.

“Hellooo…Ahh!” Said an unfamiliar voice, before hearing a loud thump of bodies falling over.

“I swear if you ever scare us like that again, we will kill you. And that’s final.” Mai said to the unknown figure in a stern voice, opposed to her comforted look.

“Todo?” Asked the girl, searching for help.

“I’m on her side on this one.” Answered the black-haired boy.

“C’mon, not even you Utahime?” She asked again. Utahime raised her hands up, showing she was also on the green haired girl’s side.

“We’re glad you’re back, Y/n-sensei.” Said Kamo, offering a hand to get her up to her feet, while Yoshinobu simply nodded.

“We sure are!” Said Mika and Nishimiya, reaching for their teacher in a fond group hug.

‘So that’s the mysterious teacher…Y/n. That’s an unusual name, but I like it’ Gojo thought, heading to the new sensei to properly greet her.

“So you must be the new teacher everyone’s talking about!” Said Gojo.

“Y/n Y/Ln, it’s nice to meet you.” She replied.

“Gojo Satoru, and the pleasure is all mine.” Said the smug teacher, going for a simple handshake since he’d noticed her hands were entirely covered by black leather gloves.

‘The new teacher looked, weird. Not in a bad way though. She had silver straight hair, cut short just below her chin, with a huge side bang covering the left side of her face. Her eyes resembled her personality, a sparkly silver adorned by big lashes and complimented by a pair of thin brows of roughly the same color. She wasn’t short, but she was just around Utahime’s height, so the difference between her and Satori made her lift her chin upwards in a cute way, in order to face him directly. Her clothes were torn apart, leaving her in a black leather suit that covered her entire body, a neck warmer on her neck and chin and a belt with small weapons, matching gloves and combat steel-toe boots. She was full of cuts and what looked like blood and dirt and prominent a eye bag could be seen on her right side of the face.’ Gojo eyed her cautiously.

“Well, I’m sure you must be famished by now, so why don’t we go back to the dinner table and get a new seat for miss Y/Ln here.” Shoko interrupted the oncoming silence.

“Don’t worry. I was able to grab something to eat along the way. Nonetheless I’m very tired, so, if you don’t mind, I’ll head to my dorm to wash off the dirt and get some rest.” Y/n kindly turned down her offer.

“I’ll show you the dorms.” Utahime intervened, grabbing her by her arm with force.

“Don’t worry, I saw where they were com…” The silver haired girl tried to stop Utahime, but was met with an icy glare even Gojo had rarely seen on his ex-classmate’s features.

“I said I’m showing you the dorms. C’mon let’s go.” She ordered Y/n, who couldn’t do anything but comply, getting pitiful looks from her students.

The evening continued nonetheless, no sign of Utahime’s return.

‘That just means we’ll get to meet the new kid tomorrow’, Gojo shrugged it off.

The next day, Y/n was finally able to join the others for breakfast, having been patched up the night before by a very angry Utahime.

She knew what she had done the other day was risky, telling everybody to go so she could single-handedly defeat the three first grade curses, but she wasn’t gonna risk anyone else getting injured, that’s just who she was like.

She knew Utahime would’ve gotten furious and mad at her for making her worry and scolding her, but, in reality, she was happy knowing there were people who really cared about her well-being.

That morning she ate almost twice her daily portions: she had lied the day before, in fact, she hadn’t eaten anything since the past breakfast, but she didn’t want to intrude in the meal or, especially, she didn’t want to have to take off her gloves or any other part of her suit to eat.

Underneath all that fabric, her body was constantly full of bruises and cuts, which concentrated on her arms and the cause was her Cursed Technique.

YOUR (Y/N’S) POV

“Soo, Y/Ln. How are you feeling? You looked pretty rough last day.” Gojo tried to initiate a conversation with you, after you’d finished eating and were casually strolling around the campus to show you were all the main facilities were located.

“I’m fine, thanks. And please, call me Y/n.” You responded, smiling.

“That goes for me too. Anyways, I’m glad you’re doing good, you should’ve seen your students and co-teachers yesterday, they were worried sick.” He replied.

“I’m sure they were.”

“Well, you got me curious. What happened?” He asked, trying to not invade your privacy but at the same time get to know you more.

“Let’s just say, on our way here, we got caught up with some curses. They weren’t that strong, but I decided to finish the job myself while the others came here.” You answered.

“What grade were they? What do you mean by some?” He questioned you.

“They were…three first grades.” You said, a bit embarrassed for some reason.

“What? I mean, wow! You managed to take them all out on your own! I don’t mean to come as judgy or stuff, but when they’d told me a new teacher had arrived at Kyoto High, I didn’t really expect someone that strong.” He said, shocked.

“Thanks, I guess…? I kinda get that a lot!” You replied, chuckling to yourself and shoving your hands in your pockets.

You wore a simple navy blue hoodie and black tight jeans with a pair of white and blue sneakers with silver gloves covering your hands.

You had always been very insecure about your scars, being basically covered in scratches and those squiggly white lines. When you didn’t wear gloves or you exposed your scars in any way, you always got weird or pitiful stares from those around you, so, a couple of years ago, you’d decided it would be in your best interest to hide them.

You started absentmindedly fidgeting with your necklace, until Gojo interrupted you in your actions: “What’s up with the gloves? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You were used to people asking that type of questions, so you replied how you usually did: “My hands get cold.”

He stared at you, unamused. Many people figured that was a lie, but they usually dropped the topic at your response. Instead, he questioned you further: “Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes, not knowing if you were more irritated or amused by his investigative nature. All your friends knew about it, and he looked like a pretty chill guy, so, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him.

“Okay, fine. It’s because of my Cursed Technique. It’s called Glass Veil.”

He seemed intrigued by it, asking you: “I’ve never heard of it before. How does it work?” 

You decided to explain it further: “it’s exactly what it sounds like. I create barriers made of transparent, glass-like cursed energy. They can reflect attacks, bend light to make me invisible, or distort space to create mirages. Sounds great, right? Yeah, well, here’s the catch. My defenses aren’t invincible—if an attack is too strong, the barriers shatter, and I feel every bit of that damage. Cuts, energy recoil, you name it. And if I try to reflect something too powerful? My own body starts breaking down from the strain. Oh, and those mirages? They don’t just mess with my enemies—they mess with me too. Use too many, and suddenly, I can’t tell what’s real anymore. If I push myself too hard, my entire technique collapses like shattered glass—leaving me completely defenseless. So yeah… it’s powerful, but if I’m not careful? It’ll kill me before my opponent even gets the chance.”

He looked at you, amazed. “Woah. I didn’t know techniques like that existed. I’m sorry for you though, it must hurt when you fight.”

“Yeah, well, you get used to it.”

“You know you shouldn’t. You should ask for help if fighting off curses becomes a threat to your safety.” He scolded you.

“Thanks…I-I mean, I don’t know what to say. I really appreciate it, Satoru.” Yes, you had many friends that worried about you, but this felt different. You were happy to know you’d made a new friend. After knowing how your technique worked, most tried to change the argument or make it about themselves, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong.

“But hey, enough about me. What do you have to tell me?” You asked.

“Well, I think you know pretty well how my Cursed Techniques work.” Gojo replied.

“Yeah, but, I’d like to hear more about how you manage to use them.” You inquired further.

“Okay, so, basically…” He had looked surprised at first, but in the end, started telling you everything. He talked to you about the basics of his techniques, then began to trail off about how he’d learned them and how he used them in fights. You’d talked so much it had already become lunch time, when, somehow, the topic became the thing you feared the most: soulmates.

You’d heard of all types of ways someone is connected to his soulmate and finds him, there were the most romantic ones, like where the other’s first sentence to you is written on your forearm; the more unique ones, where one would switch bodies with the other on a certain date; or the more creative ones where flowers sprouted in the point the other would first touch you or bump into you. You’d read so many books about it, wondering if you’d ever be able to find your soulmate.

You’d tried anything, yet you never found any red strings, or markings on your skin.

The main difficulty was, you didn’t have any signs of knowing if your soulmate was alive or not. I mean, you sometimes felt intense pain in parts of your body, but you were convinced it was simply because of your Cursed Technique and how you often over-worked yourself, which looked like a pretty good explanation for those around you.

“Do you have a soulmate?” Gojo asked, coming to a stop.

You were in front of a beautiful lake with the sun and a soft breeze helping you relax.

“Not that I know of. They might as well be dead or have never existed. I never got any signs actually.” You said, voice lowering.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Satoru said, staring at his shoes sadly.

“What about you? I’m sure you got a beautiful lady or dude waiting for you at home.” You shrugged off the heavy burden that had weighed on your shoulders since forever.

“Pft. I wish!” He replied.

“Wait really? Did you get any signs?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I can feel part of their pain, at least the physical one.” He said, chuckling.

“Oof, that must be painful!” You said.

“Yes, it is. I just wish I could find her, or him for that matter. I’ve been searching for years.” He confessed you.

You went to give him a pat on the back, telling him encouragingly: “I’m sure you’ll find them, sooner or later. I may have not known you for much, but you seem like a pretty good guy, and after all you’ve done as a Sorcerer, you deserve to have a happy ending more than anyone.

He looked taken back at your words and hugged you tightly, crying a bit in your sweater.

You caressed his broad shoulders, giving him small reassuring pats, and telling him not to worry, your heart subtly breaking at his broken state.

Breaking the hug, he wiped his eyes and sniffed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from him with his confessions.

Grabbing a tissue from your pockets, you wiped his beautiful eyes, getting lost in them for a second.

You then offered it to him to blow his nose, and he took it gratefully, thanking you.

“Blimey, it’s already 1:15 p.m.! We’re late for lunch!” You said panicked, looking at his watch.

Laughing, he took his hand in yours with a nonchalant: “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

In the blink of an eye, you’d been teleported right outside the dining hall, where he kindly opened the door for you and held it in a very gentlemanly way.

Thanking him, you quickly reached your seat at the table, in between Mai and Utahime, who both wore the same scolding look as ever, to which you replied with a tight lipped smile.

That afternoon, the students’ training was planned, in order to make the last preparations before the competition days.

You sat on a bench near the practice grounds with Gojo, asking him about his students and their cursed techniques.

The day ended quickly, and you soon sent all your students off to bed, in order to regain all their strength back with a good night’s sleep and be in perfect shape for tomorrow’s team competition.

The next day, tension filled the air heavily and all the students were silent, reorganizing their mind and thinking about the strategies they had  practiced yesterday.

You didn’t know what the Tokyo students had in mind, but with your students you had elaborated an intricate and intelligent plan that used everyone’s abilities: Mono would be the jolly, controlling from above on her flying broomstick the situation and occasionally helping on the grounds, Miwa would work in pair with Mekamaru, focusing on the trio formed by Panda, Yuta and Inumaki; Todo had taken upon himself the responsibility of Yuji Itadori; Kamo would concentrate on Megumi and Mai on Nobara and Maki.

You’d explicitly told them not to engage combat unless needed, focusing on the task at hand, which consisted of killing 14 curses scattered across the forests of Mount Mushiro.

You teachers were to gather in the main classroom, where you would know what your students were doing thanks to Mei Mei’s crows.

To say you were anxious was an understatement, but Utahime told you to calm down and that everything was under control in case something went wrong.

The teams had until midday to defeat the curses, and then the team with the most points would’ve won.

Everything was going smoothly, the teams having killed 6 curses each and not fighting against each other too much.

That was, until Mei Mei lost contact with her crows. It was obvious someone, or something, had killed them.

You immediately panicked, scared your students could get hurt by what had finished Mei’s crows. The other teachers were on alert as well, instantly dividing their jobs between who would rescue the kids and who was going to fight off the curse.

Mei Mei had been able to get back one crow, which helped you all realize the problem at hand: there were around 5 special grade curses and many lower-grade curses.

You had planned for Gojo, Yaga, Yoshinobu and Mei to fight off the curses while Utahime, Nanami and Shoko were going to help the students.

They were going to divide themselves into groups for the different areas of the High School: Gojo and Mei would take the eastern side of Mount Mushiro, Yaga and Yoshinobu the Western. There was only the section surrounding the dormitories left, but before you could offer yourself for the job, Utahime grabbed you by the wrist: “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” You scoffed.

“You’re not joining the fight, you’re already injured.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You replied cockily.

“You don’t get to choose after all your reckless decisions.” She shouted back, the room going silent.

“They’re my students too, so if you think I’m just gonna sit here while they risk their lives out there, then you’re wrong.”

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Hey Utahime, calm down. We know you’re right but we have other things to discuss right now.” Gojo tried to make the girl relax.

“No you shut up! Y/n don’t you dare step out of that room! Do you understand me?” She said.

“I already told you I’m going and there’s no stopping me!” You replied, moments away from becoming the angriest you had ever been.

Impatient, she lashed out at your insolence:“YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?” You yelled back, the words slipping out of your mouth before you were able to register it.

Everybody’s heads turned to you, making you feel uncomfortable, so you decided to just go outside and do your job: “I’m going to fight the curses located near the dormitory, if someone else has got anything to say, tell it to the wall, at least it may listen.”

You shut the door loudly behind you, not caring about their shocked expressions or Utahime’s blank stare: you were utterly furious, who was she to tell you what to do? You were a grown-up sorcerer, you knew the risks of your job. She had no reason to lash out at you that way, she may have been worried, but it’s still your students we’re talking about; besides, your bruises had already completely healed and you were well-rested.

Thinking back to it, though, you felt sorry to have screamed at her, she hadn’t deserved it: she was only worried about you, but it sometimes got too much; you would apologize later.

You started running to the site in the uncomfortable sweater. You certainly hadn’t expected an attack that day, so the outfit wasn’t the most appropriate: you wore a baggy pink hoodie with a plain black sports Bra underneath and a matching pair of black leggings with your usual boots and gloves.

Along the way, you met a few small curses, bringing them down one by one without even having to use your powers, slicing them in parts with the small knives hid in the boots.

Reaching the dormitories, everything seemed oddly quiet and ordinary around you, until you sensed a tremor in the ground.

What was happening? You looked around as the ground rumbled and shook, a huge crack filled with water opening a few feet away from you. Out of the blue (literally), emerged a towering, humanoid figure with a body made of black, swirling water, deep-sea corals, and glowing abyssal fish embedded in its skin, its face masked by an eerie, translucent jellyfish-like veil.

You rapidly formed a glass shield around you to protect you from the high-speed water whips that came from the creature’s limbs.

You didn’t recount ever facing a curse like this before, but you figured it was nature-based.

In the bat of an eye, the whips started coming from all directions, rendering you unable to do anything but protect yourself in any way you could.

You formed a glass sphere around you, in order to get complete coverage while you studied the curse’s powers and thought of a plan to end him.

However, you weren’t given the time to think, as a water field surrounded your figure, pressure rising at unmatchable speed while the temperature and the oxygen decreased.

You had to be swift: you were already in a glass bell-like structure, where the oxygen would’ve run out quickly, so your biggest issue at the moment was to keep breathing.

Feeling another tidal wave coming to hit you, you made up a fallback plan, using the strong force to make the glass bell explode from within, sending shards of glasses flying and temporarily stopping the curse from attacking you because of the great quantity of cursed energy that had hit him.

You regained fighting stance in that short period of time, but weren’t able to react as another huge wave crashed over you, swallowing you whole. It would’ve been useless to create another shield, as it would’ve shattered in pieces, causing you severe feedback injuries and tiring you even more in the effort.

You felt like you were in a maelstrom, unable to breath and consequentially think properly, losing consciousness against the high pressure and not feeling your limbs because of the intense cold that had surrounded you.

You regained your vision, once the curse had stabilized the whirlpool in front of him and cleared a small tunnel, barely big enough for you to start breathing again.

He smirked at your unresponsiveness, your head throbbing and heavy: what if Utahime was right? Maybe you shouldn’t have come here, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to save your students, becoming a dead-weight to the other sorcerers who could actually provide help to those in need. Maybe you weren’t enough and you shouldn’t have ever considered becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. You should’ve stayed with your parents, attended a good school and got a financially rewarding job, ignoring the monsters you saw while walking around the city center and forgetting about the small light balls you had been able to create since you were a kid.

You could’ve prevented this, but deep down, you had always known it: you were born alone and you were going to die alone. You couldn’t wish for your friends or family’s help: your family loved you dearly, but, not being sorcerers, they didn’t understand you; Utahime and the rest of Kyoto’s sorcerers only took you under their wing out of pity, nobody saw you as anything else but a loner who liked hurting herself. You weren’t going to have a happy ending like Gojo or Utahime deserved, you were never going to find your soulmate.

Accepting your fate, a smile found its way onto your cracked lips, tears flowing freely from your eyes and merging with the surrounding water.

“I knew you were an easy prey the moment I saw you. How could anybody this helpless become a sorcerer? If you’re afraid of your own looks, how do you expect to be able to save everybody? You can’t fight! You were never meant to become a sorcerer, you’re just a harmless little girl who’ll die alone and unloved, forgotten by her very own friends and family.”

You knew it was the end, yet you weren’t scared. Exhaustion took over you as the Abyssal Curse, ‘Shinkai’, as you remembered him from a book in Kyoto’s library, ultimated his domain expansion: The Midnight Trench.

Suddenly, you were surrounded by void, you started struggling to breath, lungs feeling flooded and bones crushing under the increased water pressure and cursed energy barriers.

Then, a group of sea-monsters like you’d never encountered before, attacked you, devouring you from limb to limb, ripping your body to pieces as your mind felt like it was about to explode.

You saw your friends’ faces and your past’s happy memories started filling your head: you saw your parents bringing you for the first time at a Luna Park, Utahime comforting you after a bad training, Shoko curing your cuts, Mai and Todo offering you your very first Takoyaki, Gojo hugging you so tightly you felt like you couldn’t breath…

You couldn’t breath. YOU COULDN’T BREATH!

You had to get out of here, you were too young to die! You still had to save your students, find a real purpose in life, make your family and friends proud and happy but, most importantly, you had to find your soulmate! You couldn’t let your family, Utahime or your other colleagues down and you had to prove the curse wrong: you could fight and you sure as heck were going to!

You tried to remember what you had read about this particular curse: their domain expansion was characterized by hallucinations like the one you were having right now. You concentrated on your powers, when immediately a thought came to your mind, making you laugh: ‘You were the one who created mirage-like illusions! This curse had no chance against you whilst it used your own cursed technique!’

Simultaneously, you created a new mirage of yourself and made the real you invisible, thanks to the small light that reflected into the oceanic void.

As the curse started attacking the illusion, you saw a ray of sunshine from above: that was it! You’d found an exit!

You decided it was time to test that little gadget Mechamaru had built inside your boots: clicking a small button, a soft gush of wind came out from your soles, slowly lifting you in the air.

A soft breeze caressed your face, body warming with the sun rays, clean air filling your lungs: you had made it out! Concentrating on what you had to do now, you suppressed temporarily your ecstasy, knowing it wouldn’t have taken long for the curse to discover the deception.

You remembered these kind of curses usually took their cursed energy from water sources they couldn’t depart from, unless they didn’t mind losing a substantial portion of their powers.

Looking around, you noticed how a blue gluey trail connected the curse, still focused on their small domain, to a water fountain near the dormitory.

Sprinting towards it with all the strength you had left, you closed the pipe in order to stop the water from running and cutting off Shinkai’s water source.

The curse visibly tumbled, the energy they had previously used for their techniques and domain being drained from their body.

“Hah! You escaped, you insolent little girl. I should’ve known. Well, what are we gonna do now?”

You kept silent and invisible, circling him as he kept his back on you, eyes trained where the whirlpool had been until seconds ago.

Having reached the perfect spot, you revealed yourself: “I’ll kill you and all your stupid friends.”

“I’d like to see you t…”

His sentence was cut short by you slicing his head off with a sword made out of light.

The Jelly sphere rolled onto the ground, the body collapsing on itself and becoming a pool of suspiciously dark water, before evaporating completely.

You sighed, but the happiness was shortly lived.

Not only were the grounds near the dormitory a complete mess, but also you were full of cuts and bruises, your head so heavy it felt like it was about to fall off.

On your right arm, a huge gash had appeared, blood dripping copiously and drenching your torn apart hoodie. You decided to take it off, ripping a piece with which you would have wrapped your forearm, and throwing away the remaining pieces, leaving yourself in the sports bra.

Your legs and abdomen weren’t in a much better state, clothes ripped to pieces because of the explosion you’d created at the start of the fight, and you were thankful you couldn’t take a look at your back even if you wanted to, knowing it was probably reduced even worse than your front.

Not finding anyone near your position, you headed towards Mount Mushiro, were most of the students were located, along with the teachers and the curses.

You put one foot in front of the other, trying not to let your dizziness get the best of you, when pain shot in your left leg, as if you’d twisted it badly. Soon, you felt the same pain on your back and your left arm, falling to your knees as you gasped for air. It didn’t come from your cuts; it was different, like it came from the inside. You got a sense of deja-vu…Had you ever felt like this before? You were sure you had. All of a sudden, you remembered the mysterious pain you’d felt many times when you were younger.

As everything clicked into place, your conversation about soulmates with Satoru flashed in front of your eyes. You fought back the joyous tears that threatened to spill from your bruised eyes, a ray of hope appearing in your mind. Had you found your soulmate? If so, what did the pain mean? Was he okay? A sense of worry and anxiety washed over you, as you ran up the stairs of Mount Mushiro, heading to where loud battle noises came from, your heart beat increasing rapidly.

Not wasting any time, you bolted towards Gojo’s location, relieved at the vision of him beat up, but with the same smirk as ever. A huge dead curse’s body rotting behind his glorious figure.

Before coming out of the woods, a small voice in the back of your mind remembered you your scars were all exposed by then to anybody who looked in your way. What was he gonna think of you? Would he repel you for your looks? Would he hate you and be disgusted by you forever, not giving you a chance to prove your theory?

But then, you stopped listening. You stopped listening to the small devil that had haunted your past since you’d discovered your cursed technique, reminding you about how you didn’t fit in and weren’t liked by anyone.

You decided you were done giving in to your fears and letting them win over you: you only decided how you were going to live your life, and you sure as hell didn’t eat to hide your true self ever since, if you could.

Feeling free from the Cains you’d bound yourself to, you jolted towards an oblivious Satoru in a hug that sent you both flying on the ground.

“What the…?”

A confused look passed his face, soon followed by a mix of anger, worry and relief.

“What did you think you were doing? Running off alone to challenge a special grade? Are you freaking insane? You’re hurt! You shouldn’t…”

Sensing something was wrong, he halted in his words.

You were a complete wreck, full of blood and dirt, sobbing incessantly and body shaking feverishly, your hands gripping his suit like he was going to fly away any time, yet a sincere smile painting your features like a small kid who’s been gifted candy.

“Hey, hey. Shh, shhh. Don’t cry, it’s okay! I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine!” He soothed you, caressing your bare back with his left hand, holding you tightly with the other hand, still sat on the ground.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” He asked in a patient, father-like tone.

You slowed down your sobs and trembling, sniffing every minute or so, your throat feeling dry and blocked.

Not enough brave to look at him in the eyes, you asked him: “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” He answered, lifting your chin up in order to look at you in the eyes.

Your side bang had moved behind your ear, revealing an ugly scar that ran across the left side of her face, from her eyebrow, along her eyelid, to her rosy cheek, wet with tears.

You had chosen that haircut specifically to hide that repulsing scar, yet, when he saw it, he didn’t flinch or appear disgusted. Rather than that, he looked…intrigued, almost happy to have seen a side of you you usually hid from others.

He’d also noticed how you didn’t have your hoodie or your gloves anymore, and he felt somehow relieved: you trusted him. Besides, to him, you’d never looked more attractive.

“Turn your infinity off.” It wasn’t meant to sound like an order, but to Gojo it seemed rather bossy, yet, confused, he complied nonetheless.

As you felt your skin touch, for the first time ever, a warm chill rand down your spine and a burnt feeling spread across your left hand’s ring finger, where a marking had appeared: ‘Satoru Gojo’.

He looked at his hand, finding the same marking as yours, but with your name written instead.

He stared at you lovingly, contemplating whether to kiss you or not.

He recounted the years spent searching for you, the pain he had felt and the loneliness that had graved on him until the day he’d met you, deciding to go for it.

You were both dirty and stinky, though it still somehow felt beautiful, more than you could’ve ever imagined.

It was slow and passionate, full of raw emotions that couldn’t be kept at bay anymore.

Finally, as you two detached, a new feeling washed over you, one you’d never felt before: love.

You’d finally found your soulmate, as he’d found you, and you knew you would both love each other to whatever end.

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it. You're welcome to come check out my account and my other posts and/or make requests :) (MASTERLIST) Do NOT plagiarize this or any of my content.

Do you think I should make a part 2?

Love you guys! See you soon!😘

Written by crazycat010 © 2025 crazycat010

[kaleldobrev]

Comfortable?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Falling asleep in Dean's lap while he's driving

Word Count: 516

Warnings: None, honestly just pure fluff

Authors Note: Takes place pre-season one | Would anyone be up for a pre-season series with reader and Dean? Been really in the mood to write a little something | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You didn't know what it was about Baby that had made you feel so safe and secure, but each and every time you stepped foot inside of her, all anxiety and fear that you once had would quickly wash away. She wasn't a quiet vehicle by any means. The engine roared, and sometimes she would bump a little more prominently on certain roads, the sound of legos would rattle when the AC or heat would be turned on, and Dean would always have some type of cassette playing even if you were attempting to get even a wink of sleep.

The more you thought about it, maybe it wasn't Baby who had made you feel safe and secure, but it was the man that drove her.

As Dean drove along the highway, there were no cars in sight. The only kind of light for miles were the headlights of Baby; not even streetlamps. Metallica was playing softly on the radio, as Dean lowered the volume so the two of you could talk without yelling over the music. But the conversation didn't last long as you felt your eyes starting to grow heavy.

You wanted to try and stay up so you could continue talking to Dean, but the tiredness that you were feeling was starting to take over more and more. Letting out a small yawn, you pressed your back to the passenger side door and crossed your arms, trying to get into a comfortable position. "Gonna sleep on me?" Dean asked, briefly looking at you before looking back at the road again.

"Unfortunately, yes," you confirmed. "I just feel exhausted all of a sudden," you said.

"Want your blanket? It's still laid out from earlier," Dean said winking. You looked at him, not responding to his comment as you were too tired. Usually, you'd give him some kind of sassy remark, or tease him, but instead, you simply just leaned into the back seat, grabbing the blanket Dean had placed neatly before the two of you had sex a few hours prior.

Taking the blanket you wrapped it around yourself, and tried your best to get comfortable, but you found yourself shifting way too much. "Come here," Dean said, gesturing for you to lay down.

"You sure? Won't be distracting?" You asked.

He shook his head. "Not at all," he reassured. "Now come here. I want you to be comfortable. We got a long drive."

"Okay," you said, before shifting positions. You placed your head in Dean's lap, while the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. When you looked up briefly, your boyfriend was slightly grinning. "Comfortable?" You asked.

"I should be the one asking you that," he said, letting out a small chuckle. "But yes, I am comfortable. Are you?"

"Yeah," you replied. "Wake me up if we stop okay?"

"Sure thing Sweetheart," he said, his free hand that was currently not on the wheel started stroking your hair gently; your eyes starting to flutter closed. "Goodnight Sweetheart."

"Goodnight Dean," you smiled before feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @octoberclidan If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (4)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope, John Walker bashing

How to cure a grump (3)

How to cure a grump masterlist

“That audacity,” Bucky angrily mutters. “How dare he talk to you! He should be ashamed of himself and his actions!”

You blink a few times. What happened not minutes ago was mind-boggling. Your former boss, the grumpiest person you ever met, kissed you to save you from embarrassment.

“Why?” You whisper so no one but Bucky can hear you question his intentions. His help surely comes with a price. “What do you want?”

“What?” He furrows his brows, still lost in thoughts, as he watches John and his fiancé walk past your mother.

Your former boyfriend greets your mom, earning an angry look and no response. If it was up to her, he’d lie on the ground bleeding, and his teeth missing.

“We should get the things your mother wanted you to get. Give me the list,” Bucky says. He snatches the list out of your hands as you stand there, frozen to the spot. “You can pay the stuff here, and I’ll get the rest.”

Bucky walks out of the store, nodding at your mother as he hurriedly makes his way toward the next store.

Almost done with your mother’s list, Bucky walks toward the last store. He carries around the paper bags filled with more things your mother needed for dinner.

“It’s you again,” John smirks as Bucky wants to pass him by. It was already a long day. He’s cold and tired. Not to forget, he kissed his former employee and liked it. “I didn’t think she’d find a new guy anytime soon. Not after she lost me.”

John Walker hates losing. Watching Bucky kiss you in public, in front of people knowing him, and you made John furious. He doesn’t care that he ended your relationship and cheated on you. John Walker is the kind of guy wanting to eat his cake and keep it.

“What do you mean, with a guy like you?” Bucky dips his head. “The kind of guy promised a woman marriage and a future only to cheat on her with a cheap imitation?”

John’s face contorts in anger. “A good catch like me. Business owner, house owner, a stallion in the bed.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Usually, when guys tell you they are good in bed, they are quick shots and can’t satisfy a woman.”

“Say,” John leans closer to look Bucky up and down, “does she still only want to fuck with the lights out? She’s a frigid little thing, isn’t she.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. It takes anything in him to not throw the paper bags at John.  He won’t throw punches but fight dirty. “Not with me,” Bucky says, smirking. “I can understand she only wanted to have sex with you in the dark. With a face like yours in front of her, she must’ve been unwell all the damn time…”

John gapes at your former boss, who holds his gaze, still smirking. Without another word, Bucky walks past John, hearing people laugh about John who throws a tantrum like a toddler, calling Bucky names.

“He did what?” The moment you came back home, the phone wouldn’t start ringing. Your aunt was first to call to tell you what Bucky said to John. It didn’t change your mind about your former boss but made you chuckle.

Next was your neighbor across the street. They watched with amusement when John was taken down a peg by your former boss.

Six calls later, you are snorting because it’s John’s fiancée, asking you to tell Bucky to apologize to John. “Yeah, not going to happen, darling. If you’d excuse me now, we are in the middle of our Christmas preparations.”

You ended the call before she could say another word.

“Who was it this time?” Your mother chuckles as you try not to laugh. Of course, she enjoyed every call. Bucky fought fire with fire, and she likes him even better because of it. “Come on, Munchkin. Tell me who it was.”

“John’s fiancée,” you snort. “She wanted James to apologize to John for calling him a quick shot and that he’s got an ugly face.”

She shrugs and says, “What is true, has to remain true. James was right, and people love him for it. Mrs. Applebaum from the end of the street even clapped her hands. You must love James.”

“Mom,” you sigh, deep and exasperated. How can you reveal now that your mother likes your former boss so much, that you hate him? “Please don’t tell him that you love him.”

“Who loves who?” Bucky casually walks inside the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear. He enjoyed that you got flustered around him on the trip back to your mother’s house. “I parked the car.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” your mother coos and winks at Bucky. “I know it’s a bummer they didn’t have a free room for you, but you can stay here for Christmas. We have more than enough space and food. Right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you say, even though, you feel like this is a conspiracy between your mother and your former boss. “Uh—I’ll check on the heating and if we got enough wood for the fireplace.

“Munchkin,” your mother says, “why don’t you show James around the house? He hasn’t seen much of it.”

You give up and simply nod. Whatever you say would only hurt your mother’s feelings. If you must, you’ll play pretend over Christmas. You can always tell her that you and Bucky split up. The last thing you want is to ruin Christmas for your mom.

“Alright, show me around Y/N,” Bucky smirks at you. He’s enjoying this too much for your liking. “I can hardly wait to see every nook at your home.”

You grit your teeth but say nothing. Every word would only make your mother suspicious or cause a fight between you and your former boss.

So, you bite your tongue and politely ask him to follow you, murder in your eyes.

“Your mom is very nice,” he says while walking next to you. “What do you want to show me first?”

You walk upstairs, guiding Bucky away from your mother. You’re seething and can’t hold back any longer.

Grabbing him by his jacket, you push Bucky against the wall next to your room. “What kind of game are you playing?” You accuse. “I know you’re having a blast lying to my mom, but if you dare to make fun of her home, I’ll castrate you.”

“Whoa,” he yelps when you slam your fist into the wall beside his head. “When I said your mom is nice, I meant it. She invited me in and let me stay at her home for free. I’d never make fun of her or her home.”

“Good.” You step away from Bucky, exhaling deeply to calm down. “Listen, this is an odd situation. If you want to stay here for Christmas, it’s fine by me. I owe you for John and…you know.”

Bucky doesn’t mention the kiss, and you're thankful for it. “How about you show me the rest of the house, and we discuss how we keep on pretending to be in love…”

How to cure a grump (5)

Tags in reblog.

[lovelyjj]

you can use any prompts but can u do reader and jj breaking up, mostly because he can't communicate well and he's to reckless ( maybe you could add something we're he flirts with other girls at bonfires when he's drunk) and she's not all for that ecspecially since they are starting to get older

Break Up

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.1k

I chose “don’t do this” and “we’re done” from this prompt list! i’m still accepting requests!

warnings: kinda mean jj

a/n: sorry if this sucks

(not my gif)

“JJ I can’t keep doing this,” you voiced.

“Doing what?” JJ asked.

“Putting up with your bullshit,” you responded.

“My bullshit,” JJ laughed.

“Yeah your pulling guns on people bullshit. Stealing from drug dealers, and being reckless.”

“I’m not reckless I’m perfectly fine.”

“JJ, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Don’t do this,” JJ begged.

“You know what whatever i’m leaving.” You stormed out.

You were trying to break up with JJ but you just couldn’t do it. You don’t know if it was his blue eyes looking into your soul or his sad face but you just couldn’t do it. You were putting it off.

——————

The bonfire was electrifying. People were drinking and dancing, and talking it was wild. You we’re having a good time with your friends.

JJ was on his third beer and he wasn’t planning on stoping anytime soon. It was safe to say he was a little drunk. He enjoyed drinking and being drunk, it made everything easier. He could just forget all his problems and let loose.

JJ saw a group of girls by the fire and decided to go up to them. He had liquid courage, therefore went up to them pretty confident.

“Hi ladies,” he spoke.

A tall blonde in a short black dress smiled at him and said “Hello, your JJ Maybank right?”

“Yeah that’s me,” JJ gave her a goofy grin.

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Oh yeah and what have you heard?” JJ asked.

“That your a handsome guy who knows how to have a good time,” she smirked.

“Sounds about right.”

“You have a beautiful smile,” JJ laid on the charm.

JJ continued to flirt with the blonde as he drunkenly slurred compliments at her.

“Don’t look now,” Kiara warned.

“What?” you turned around and saw what she was referring to.

There was JJ in all his glory stroking hair out of some random girls face. You were livid. How dare he in his drunken state think to hit on other girls.

You were about to walk over there when something stopped you. Kiara put a hand on your shoulder holding you back from leaving.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You marched up to JJ and demanded answers. You tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around all wide eyed.

“Listen Maybank I don’t know who you think you are, flirting with other girls right in front of my face, but you got another thing coming.”

You were getting older and you didn’t have time for all these games.

“Y/N?” He slurred.

“Yep.”

“I was just talking to some friends, no harm in that right?” JJ asked.

“Wrong. You’re being disloyal and unfaithful,” you hissed.

“How do you know? I’m just having fun.”

“Right well JJ i’m so tired SO tired of having to deal with this!”

“Then go away,” JJ casted you a unimpressed look.

“Maybe I will,” you shouted.

“Go, nobodies stoping you.”

You were pissed at JJ. He was acting like a child. You were not gonna control him, if he wanted to act like that you were gonna let him. But you couldn’t promise you will be by his side through it all.

———————

The day was bright and sunny. The sky holding the sun as it shined on you.

JJ walked into the château littered in bruises on his face. He was dreading the encounter with you because he didn’t want to worry you.

You were sat on the couch with the other pogues when JJ walked in.

“Hey J- Woah what happened? Are you ok?” You were frantic and scared for your boyfriend.

“Relax I’m fine. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“JJ you have- you’re not gonna give me a explanation,” you sighed.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” JJ said through gritted teeth.

“Ya know I would really love it if you could communicate with me sometime,” you frowned.

“Yeah well we don’t always get what we want,” JJ smiled rudely.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Suck it up princess.”

You pushed pass JJ going going out the door and onto the porch. You didn’t know what has gotten into JJ but you hated it.

——————

You and JJ weren’t on the same page. Everything seem to be crashing down. It was a disaster. JJ wasn’t communicating to you at all. All he did was blow you off and dance around your questions.

You stormed up to the château where JJ was currently staying and wanted to talk.

JJ came stumbling outside when he herd your knock and shouting. He wasn’t impressed but he showed up none the less.

“I need to talk to you,” you started off.

“You want to do this here?” JJ questioned.

You sighed, “works for me.”

“Ok what do you need to talk about,” JJ cringed he hated talking.

“I think you know,” you moved your lips inside your mouth forming a line without showing your lips.

“I don’t.”

“Ok well I think we need to have a conversation about us.”

“Which entails…”

“JJ…”

“What? You wanted to talk so let’s talk,” he gritted his teeth.

“Ok look this isn’t working. You don’t treat me right and i’m tired of it.”

“So you’re breaking up with me,” JJ put his tongue to his cheek.

“Yeah I guess I am.”

“I can change,” JJ’s voice broke.

“No JJ I don’t think you can.”

“Please give me another chance,” JJ begged.

“You don’t talk to me, your reckless and you flirt with other girls, I can’t handle it. how am I suppose to compete with them?”

“Sorry I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend.” JJ apologized.

“Well you should of thought about that before.”

“I know I don’t deserve it but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me and make this work, I would be eternally grateful,” JJ expressed with a sense of urgency.

“We’re done.”

“Y/N…”

“Goodbye JJ.”

You turned around to walk away and since you weren’t facing JJ you let a tear slip down your cheek. You didn’t want to do what you just did but you had to. JJ was hurting you, hurting your heart and you couldn’t stand it any longer. You loved him more than anything and not being with him was going to be a challenge.

JJ was your first real love. He was your person for so long until he started being careless and irresponsible. On top of that he didn’t communicate his feelings or give you any idea to what he was thinking which drove you mad.

JJ had his flaws but you loved him desperately regardless. You just couldn’t let him hurt you anymore as much as it hurt you to break up with him. So, as the tears streamed down your cheeks and with a heavy heart you said your last goodbye to JJ.

[russellsppttemplates]

Straight from the heart (Lando Norris)

It takes a bad race for Lando to notice how much he has neglected your relationship, and he can only hope he can fix it

Note: english is not my first language. I was fighting the other piece I was writing so I jumped to this one and I did something a little bit different (* cough cough * longer) and see how it goes! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me), but I promise this has a happy ending!! 🥹🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: relationship struggles, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Lando had a wonderful race, but a mixture of bad strategy calls, dark rain clouds appearing on the sky with only a couple of laps left to finish the race and the wrong tire compound made him lose a good number of places, cars overtaking him in the last seven laps.

"Is the race over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.

"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, darling", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got out of balance.

"Are you going to call Lando?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the position he had finished in. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when he was over.

"I'm not, I don't think - he's flying back tonight and the timezone is so different, I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews, and I'm sure the debrief will be long and torturous - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appel, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".

The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.

The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.

A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked. Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak.

"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.

"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Lando is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so profound, but it seems he only cares about racing and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know the triple headers are intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Max where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".

Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and have you talked about this? A long, grown-up and serious conversation?", she mused.

"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat.

"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think me and your father was all smooth sailing?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".

You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.

You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Lando would work through a look back on with a sense of accomplishment.

This wasn't how you and Lando end, is it?

.

Max and Lando headed for the plane as soon as they left the race track, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Max was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting his girlfriend to let her know they were leaving.

"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Lando mumbled, "didn't she watch the race? Doesn't she know that I need her?".

Max weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his best friend to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.

"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Max rambled off.

Lando was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Max, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.

"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Lando, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Max declared as Lando only grew more confused.

"What am I missing Max?", Lando snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.

"Mate, think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Max offered.

Lando wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.

The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.

"Fuck!", Lando shouted, punching the arm rest.

"Glad you figured that one out almost all on your own", Max tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N? Thought so", Max muttered. He didn't like the situation his friends found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Lando, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.

"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Lando mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".

He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.

"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than solving the world's problems -, but P and her talk here and there", Max reasoned, "she obviously won't tell me all the details but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, P is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Max offered. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Lando, the last couple of time Max's girlfriend couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the McLaren driver.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Lando groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".

"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Max asked and Lando nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about racing, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", Max offered.

McLaren had a one hundred and eighty degree turn lately. From struggling to get their cars in the points, the team had managed to turn things around to the point where P5 and P8 was considered a bad weekend for them.

With the new signings, Quadrant had grown exponentially and it had naturally drawn him to spend more time on it, and it seemed to have alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.

It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Lando loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.

They both sat in silence as the British drive thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the podium was a common feature for him, and the race win was there, up for grabs and he wanted it. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.have always been important to me.

"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Lando asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Max tries to comfort Lando.

"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Lando voicesd his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?

"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Max states.

"I hope you're right", Lando sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.

"I wouldn't do that", Max chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.

With his head on the headrest, Lando went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.

What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?

.

Lan 🧡

Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?

It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.

To Lan 🧡

Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?

Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.

We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.

Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.

Do you want me to pick you up?

No, I'll walk.

Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.

Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.

Lando chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.

When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.

"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.

The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.

"Hello, hi", Lando cleared his throat, "how have you been?".

Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.

"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.

"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.

The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.

"We really need to talk, Y/N", Lando says.

"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.

The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it - Bon appétit!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.

"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Lando was cut off by you.

"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".

If the ground could sink him into it, Lando would've accepted it gladly.

"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself like that, Lando. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.

Lando gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Lando added all in one go.

"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.

"When I lost all of those places in the race", Lando gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Max was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".

It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.

"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Lando. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your cornerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best driver out there and that a bad race doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".

"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Lando asks desperately.

"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the last season - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always a Quadrant video to film or a meeting or some event. You, Max and Martin went to Bali, and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when P showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Lando. I never felt so humiliated. Max had his girlfriend and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.

"I'm sorry", Lando murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.

"I don't need you to apologize now, Lando. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet glued to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or the McLaren social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took Max to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.

"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself.. Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Lando's swollen and tear-filled eyes.

The tears Lando has been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.

"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be our year - my year - and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Lando confessed.

"I needed you, Lando", she bit back.

Lando couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Lando was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.

"Can we walk along the marina?", Lando asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.

You both get up, Lando paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.

Lando wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Lando voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.

"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for croissants, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where that lady asked if Mila was our daughter when your brother visited. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.

"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Lando pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Lando mumbled.

As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.

"You're making it so hard", your groaned rubbing your temples, "It would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".

"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Lando assured you.

"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Lando got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.

"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Lando nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow, "I know you just asked me for some time, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".

"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.

"Is it still the case?", Lando picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".

"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.

.

Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Lando was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Lando still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.

So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Lando sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who it was from.

You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Lando. The sunny day invited you to go out and Lando seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.

"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".

"Lando invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.

"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Lando", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the racing ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her daughter would fight for them and for her. For you.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.

You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Lando's offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Lando under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.

"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.

"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.

"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your small backpack on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Lando's apartment.

"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "Jon did give me the recipe, but I made them! He says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".

"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.

"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocolate", Lando shrugged.

You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, Lan - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.

Lando's heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.

He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very posh and very proper and she was trying to cut in line! Then she started saying something in French and I was like 'no can do, madam! I need to get these croissants for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.

"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.

"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but for someone who eats pre-prepared meals, this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.

For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good, Lan! You should make granola bars more often - might even make a side business out of it!", you smiled.

"Charles has some ice-cream, there's alcohol from the other guys too - me? Granola bars", he smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted. Never ever.

The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park or the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Lando had definitely put some effort into this.

"Thank you for this, Lando", you smiled after you helped him clean up the supplies, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.

"It's alright, really", Lando mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.

The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.

"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.

"The day after tomorrow, we're going karting - Max and P are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.

"I'd love to go, Lando", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour", you pointed out.

"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.

"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, Lan, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".

"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.

As Lando walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.

Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.

.

"Why are we going this way?", Max asked as Lando took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the track that way?".

Lando couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".

Max and Pietra exchanged a look before rhe blonde woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".

"P!", Max scolded.

"It's alright, Max - she's not wrong", Lando added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Lando turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, P. I know you have been a good friend to her, so thank you for that", he added.

"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.

"Excuse me?!", Max dramatised, "what did you just say?".

"Did I lie, Max? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Lando realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.

Lando chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.

There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black jeans, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.

"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Pietra's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.

"Why don't I get a kiss?", Max pouted.

"Because you stink, that's why", Lando chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.

Blushing, you nodded before looking at Pietra again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the track, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before they raced eachother since you and P would happily drive around in the karts just to pass the time.

For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready.

"How have you been, Y/N?", Pietra asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.

"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Lando is home", you offered.

"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.

"He's... Goodness, he's Lando again, my Lando", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.

"Y/N", Pietra cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Max did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Lando was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.

Once the boys were done, Max waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to get your equipment ready.

"Come here, I need to make sure you don't fly out of your kart this time", Max called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped to go on the single seater.

You finished the makeshift hairstyle before you looked for the helmet, finding it in Lando's hands, "come here, big head, I'll help you put it on", he smiled.

As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, hands setting the helmet on top of your head and then pulling in on, "Look who's talking", you mumbled quickly before it was all the way in, his fingers gingerly touching your neck as he did the strap buckle.

"All good for our speed daredevils?", Max joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.

"Does it feel safe, Y/N?", Lando checked with you, making you wiggle a little to make sure you were strapped tightly enough, making you flash his two thumbs up.

"Ready, set, go!", Max yelled before you and Pietra went off, happily driving on the track despite not extracting the full potential out of the kart.

"You and Y/N seem well", Max offered as him and Lando took a break before they joined you back at the track.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Lando explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".

"I'm proud of you, man", Max tapped his back.

"You're what?", Lando asked, a little flustered at his bestfriends words.

"I'm proud of you, Lando - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what P said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.

"Thanks, mate", Lando replied earnestly.

After a couple of laps from you, you saw the boys joining you in the track, making you assure that whenever they lapped you, you made a Mario Kart like noise, always managing to get a smile and a headshake from Lando and Max.

Once you were done, Max and Pietra volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.

"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Lando asked as he approached you.

Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.

"I'm glad", Lando uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I could fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".

"Lan...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.

"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that it is coming straight from my heart - everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.

You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling, "two Bryan Adams references in the same sentence from the guy who used to DJ? You impress me, Lando Norris", you giggled and teased him playfully, feeling the rubble from his own laugh on his chest.

"I'll make sure to impress you everyday that we're alive, Y/N Y/L/N", he promised.

And he intended to keep it.

.

Lando invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.

The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.

The whole apartment was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.

Your acceptance to come to his place made Lando feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else, and he was sure he would always be in love with you until his last breath.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.

Lando assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Quadrant hoodie.

"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.

"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.

Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Lan", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.

"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.

"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.

"Is this going to be like the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just try it, Lan!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Lando's mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.

Lando chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "is it good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.

Once you finished eating, you helped Lando bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.

"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Lando nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.

"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.

"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.

You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.

Once the movie was playing, Lando's arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.

"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually! He's also Mila's favourite character, at least he was last week", Lando chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.

"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.

"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Lando reflected out loud.

"Lando, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.

"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.

"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.

"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it or that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".

"Lando, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Lando".

"You're right", Lando agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.

Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.

You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.

Lando was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him.

"I love you, Lando", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.

"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Lando stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Hey, hey! Lando, baby", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".

"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Lando added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.

"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.

Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".

"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.

"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.

"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".

"My love, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.

[lsd-astronaut]

Random headcanons of the fellowship bc I'm bored (mix of modern & canon)

✨Frodo

Scares the shit out of people by staring them directly in the eye without blinking but if you looked inside his mind, it'd be a rotating PNG of a fish, he just dissociates a lot

Would absolutely steal stuff in Claire's. He's really good at it.

Doesn't smoke, yet he is the one who gets asked the most out of the four hobbits for a light.

He strikes me as a stomach problems & back pain girlie.

🌻Sam

He looks like a bread guy for me. I like bread.

Full on conversations with his plants. Mainly gossip about the Shire, and how dashing Mister Frodo was looking today, can you believe it?

The only hobbit with a driving license (Frodo can't bc of depression and dissociation; Merry got pulled over and got his license revoked for having weed in his car; Pippin is a minor).

🍁Merry

You know these videos where a girl (usually) records her partner while they're cuddling and he's so whiny and talking like a princess, and suddenly he sees the phone and forces his voice like three octaves lower? Yeah...

Narrates everything that everyone in the fellowship does during the journey like it's a nature documentary. Stopped pretty quickly after Moria.

The Walter White of Middle Earth if he could get away with it, let's be honest.

🌱Pippin

Had a phase where he ate anything he saw. Mainly stopped after Merry made him cry by teasing him that if he kept eating ants, they would eat him from inside out. He still munches on flowers when he's bored. Aragorn has given up on telling him to be careful in case one is poisonous, but Boromir suffers mini heart attacks daily.

Accidentally mansplains to everyone he knows but that's because he gets very excited with his hyperfixations! He has no idea why he doesn't have any luck in love, and Merry is like "dude shut the fuck up..."

Is like these children who will constantly ask "why" to their parents, and Boromir tries to be nice and genuine for him but he eventually gets tired. "But, why?" "Because I fucking said so!" "Okay... but why?"

I feel like he cries pretty easily about everything and anything. He is just very sensitive, and feels emotions really strongly.

🗡️Aragorn

Hates parties; when he is forced to attend one, he will sit in one corner and sip on his drink. Gets really drunk and texts Arwen. "How was the party, meleth nín?" "Me, yes."

Hyperfixates on the weirdest things like Pippin, but his autism shows in the most deadpan way possible so he just stands there like "i like swords" and will emotionlessly list you all the characteristics of your weapon of choice. If you looked inside his mind, you'd see he is REALLY excited. He just doesn't know how to show it.

🏹Legolas

For some reason, I feel like he'd know a super random skill? Like ventriloquism. Recreates the "hi my name is snapple" video with Gimli just to fuck with him.

Can actually whistle with a leaf, idk how he does this, but it's the only 'instrument' he can play (apart from his voice if you want to get nitpicky with me) lol this elf does not have a single musical bone.

⛏️Gimli

Crystal girlie. Gives Frodo an encyclopaedia on all the types of healing properties and characteristics of every kind of gem and stone.

Really good medical skills. The rest of the fellowship regularly forget his uncle is Oín, so they're dumbfounded when Gimli gives advice to Aragorn, who is the only one that isn't surprised and actually listens to him when patching up Frodo lmfao

🛡️Boromir

Talks like someone out of a Shakespeare play and is dumbfounded when everyone in the fellowship is like "sup bro"

Keeps a heart locket with a picture of Faramir he likes to show like a proud dad does with his kids' wallet photos. Faramir was horrified when he learned of this and stopped talking to him for a month

Took to the hobbits like a dad who says he doesn't want a dog and then they're inseparable. Says he doesn't have favourites but Merry and Pippin remind him of Faramir and him when they were kids.

[boopshoops]

Please welcome Yuu Shi as a limited time (fan)summon!

Upon Summon: You know, at first I thought I'd like this social, but now... Ah, forget it! I'm just tired. Shall we dance? I'll lead.

Groovification: ???

Set to Home: Stunning? I know.

Home Transition 1: R-Royal Sword Academy is here too? Ahaha.. no, no! That's... fine.

Home Transition 2: Did you see how many skin products Vil made Epel bring? Like, I get caring for yourself, I do the same, and it's VERY important... but... there's such thing as too much sometimes.

Home Transition 3: GRIM! Quit sneaking bites of food from the bakery! I can't keep paying for it! Haaa, when I get my hands on him...

Home, After Login: I spend ages getting myself all dolled up, only to end up in the middle of yet another catastrophe. Figures. I should be used to it at this point.

Home Transition/Groovification: ???

Tap Home 1: I admit, I worry about Deuce being paired up with Azul. It's like I'm babysitting my siblings all over again... but hey, he's a sweetheart. He gets a pass.

Tap Home 2: My mask? I know! It's so heavy, but I got to make sure no one recognizes me, right? It's not Yuu Shi tonight, it's just me!... and remember to keep that to yourself~

Tap Home 3: Trying to get all buddy buddy with Rollo is exhausting. He's such a drag, and that makes mirroring him a drag. Talking with him makes me feel like I'm taking a bite of aluminum.

Tap Home 4: Ahh... I'm getting all nostalgic. I remember when I learned how to ballroom dance at my old school back home... I much prefer contemporary. Not a fan.

Tap Home 5: QUIT- Oh! You! Q-Quit tugging on my sleeves like that. I had to rent this dress, you know, I don't exactly have the funds for it. Hmph... personal space, please.

Tap Home/Groovification: ???

Writing and art tag list! Just lmk if ya wanna be added @lowcallyfruity @cecilebutcher @skriblee-ksk @kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3 @thehollowwriter

✨PART 1/2✨

Part 2/2

[calicoheartz]

could you do dating Caitlin and when your out some girl recognizes her and asks for pictures and reader gets a lil jealous with smut?!?!?!

Envy’s Veil ; Caitlin Clark

꣑୧ — summary | Caitlin x jealous!reader

wc ; 1.4k

— warnings | NSFW under the cut ! praise (lots of it) so much sweet tension , teasing , fingering (r! receiving)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : the time has finally arrived for my first ever smut fic 😈 pls forgive me as it is very light as im slowly easing myself into it , buuut i hope u guys enjoy ! ◡̈

After a week of long practices and conflicting schedules, you and Caitlin decided to take some time and unwind at a local bar. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background, and the sound of chatter and laughter filling your ears around you. You found a cozy booth in the corner and settled in, simply enjoying the time with your girlfriend, grateful at the opportunity to spend time with her.

As you sipped your respective drinks and continued your conversation, the brunettes eyes widened in recognition, as you saw a young woman excitedly approach your table from the corner of your eye.

“Oh my gosh! Caitlin Clark right??” the woman exclaimed, her phone already out and grasped around her hand, ready for a selfie.

Caitlin smiled softly, nodding slightly, “thats me, would you like a picture?”

The woman nodded eagerly, wrapping her arm around your girlfriend's waist and Cait stood up to pose with her. You watched from the booth, a small pang of jealousy tugging at your heart. You knew Cait was just being friendly, but you couldn't help but feel a tad bit overprotective over her. I mean, that was YOUR girlfriend, and the woman was practically throwing herself at her ???? But you couldn't help but feel a little bit insecure.

You kindly offered to take their picture, and it ended as quickly as it started. The woman gave a quick thank you, before rushing back to the booth where her friends were. But even after it was all over, you still couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity and jealousy.

Caitlin, noticing something was off, as the evening continued you seemed quiet, almost as if something was on your mind. She grabs your face, caressing your cheek softly, her other free hand wrapping her fingers against yours. She softly whispers , “hey, is everything ok?”

You give her a small, but doubtful smile. Reassuring her you were okay and just tired. For the rest of the night, you were anxiously attached to her at the hip. Whether it was asking for a few kisses every now and then, or asking to hold her hand, this definitely made the brunette aware that you were in fact, not okay. And that beneath the surface there was something bothering you, she just couldn’t figure out what.

Eventually, Caitlin couldn’t take it anymore. She gently grabbed your wrist and led you to the bar’s exit, and proceeded to drive the both of you back to your shared apartment. Among the confusement, you simply figured that the brunette had caught onto your message. But obviously you yourself were never going to mention it, it wasn’t typically like you to get jealous, plus it really wasn’t that big of a deal. All you wanted right now was to go home, get into bed, and forget that it ever even happened.

Well…that isn’t what happened.

As soon as you got home, you proceeded with your everyday nighttime routine. Beginning to slowly slip off your heels, and beginning to remove your jacket. You hadn’t really spoken much to Caitlin during the drive, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted her to know was how badly you wanted her to show you that she was yours, and obviously that you were even jealous to begin with.

Caitlin on the other hand, noticed your behavior (to be fair, you didn’t even try to hide it), and how you also hadn’t said anything during your drive back home. She wasn’t sure exactly how to make sure you were okay, as to her knowledge; you rarely acted like this.

You made your way to the living room and plopped onto the corner of the couch, with Caitlin following right behind you. She took a deep sigh before breaking the silence, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” your eyes widened at her sudden comment, as your fingers found their way to the hem of your blouse, you started fiddling with it slightly, only giving her a small pout in reply.

The brunette noticed this, and it immediately all clicked.

Oh. that’s why you were acting weird.

As soon she took note of this, she quickly scooched closer to you, wrapping her arms around your figure and burying her face in your neck, leaving small kisses over the piece of skin. A small moan escaped from your lips as a surprise at the sudden contact, Caitlin began tracing sweet shapes on the inside of your thigh, as she slowly whispered, “why don’t i show you how much you really mean to me, yeah?”

You nodded your head slightly, taken completely aback by her statement. But the idea of Caitlin doing anything to you in general is enough to have you completely soaked. She gently lifted you up, carrying you from the living room and into your shared bed, and softly putting you down. She had a feral look in her eye, but you knew deep down she would take good care of you. She tugged at the beautiful black fitted dress you were wearing, waiting for your approval to remove it, once she got it; she wasted no time slowly unzipping the back and gently slipping it off you. Caitlin had begun to feel your entire body, running her finger tips up and down your arms, slowly itching her way down your sides, before the began rubbing the inside of your thighs again.

You allowed a small whimper to leave your mouth at Cait’s free hand sliding down your exposed stomach, her lips kissing your neck and jawline as she allowed her fingers to wander closer and closer to your aching core.

“Do you want me to touch you here, my sweet girl?” she hummed into you, the special spot on your neck vibrating. You let out a light, but breathy moan. “Yes please, cait.” you said back, watching as her hand rested teasingly on your pussy. Your words seemed to have been good enough for her, as her palm lifted up, fingers feeling around for a certain nub.

You let out a pornographic moan when she briefly brushed against it, purposefully trying not to touch you at first. Your eyes were hazed with want, watching her long and slender fingers touch you, and only you while she sucked and kissed at your neck.

“Here?” she asked, as she slowly circled your clit with her thumb, pressing down on the nub while doing so. You let out a gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure. Your breath hitched as you let out a desperate plea for more. Two of her fingers joined together to rub you, her fingers working slowly and softly. Carefully rubbing your clit, up and down, side to side. Playing with it, toying with you-

She smiled smugly, giving you the most delicate kiss on your lips. As soon as she accumulated enough of your slick on her fingers, she wasted no time slowly prodding at your entrance, slipping 2 fingers into your core, as she listened for your reaction. She didnt have to listen very hard, as the moan you let out left her own wetness pooling in between her thighs.

Caitlin studied your face, observing the way it contorted from both the plain and pleasure, giving you enough time to adjust to the sudden pleasure before slowly pumping her fingers in and out, before quickening her pace.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she whispered sweetly, not taking her eyes off of you. “Look at you, taking me so well, just like a good girl should.”

She begins to tease you slightly, slowing her pace down and slowly rubbing your clit, but shes pushing her fingers so deep that you have to screw your eyes shut.

Caitlin knows youre sensitive, melting at slightest touch, you can feel your insides slowly begin to squeeze around her fingers, indicating that youre close.

“Yes just like that baby, come on, youre almost there” she whispers, “such a good girl, do you wanna cum on my fingers?” she asks teasingly. You eagerly nod your head, words not even daring to come our of your mouth due to the immense pleasure that youre feeling.

Your buried your head into her shoulder as you reached your high, your sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her shirt. She held her fingers in your for a couple of seconds, helping you through your orgasm; before carefully sliding them out. Your entire body shivering at the mere absence of them.

She smirked proudly, slowly bringing her fingers to her mouth before sucking them clean. A ritual she does after every time she makes you finish with her fingers.

She pulled you into a hug, kissing your head softly, “You did so good for me, good job baby”, as she gently rubbed circles onto your back.

“If that does show you how much i want you, then Im not sure what will”

omg wait that was lowkey…ok miss camiii 🫣👀 , anywhooo not sure how I feel about writing nsfw , but I will definitely keep it in mind for the future. As always , tysm for reading !