#The true driving force of the universe

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[s-soulwriter]

Creative misfortunes for characters

Identity Crisis: Have your character lose their memory, forcing them to rediscover their true self and past.

Betrayal by a Loved One: A close friend or family member betrays the character's trust, leading to emotional turmoil and inner conflict.

Physical Transformation: Give your character a physical ailment or transformation that they must come to terms with, such as sudden blindness, a debilitating illness, or turning into a different species.

Unrequited Love: Make your character fall deeply in love with someone who doesn't reciprocate their feelings, causing heartache and a quest for self-discovery.

Financial Ruin: Strip your character of their wealth and privilege, forcing them to adapt to a life of poverty and face the harsh realities of the world.

False Accusation: Have your character falsely accused of a crime they didn't commit, leading to a desperate quest to clear their name.

Natural Disaster: Place your character in the path of a devastating natural disaster, such as a hurricane, earthquake, or tsunami, and force them to survive and rebuild.

Loss of a Sense: Take away one of your character's senses (e.g., sight, hearing, taste) and explore how they adapt and cope with this profound change.

Forced Isolation: Trap your character in a remote location, like a deserted island, and make them confront their inner demons while struggling to survive.

Haunted Past: Reveal a dark secret from your character's past that comes back to haunt them, threatening their relationships and well-being.

Time Travel Consequences: Send your character back in time, but make them inadvertently change a crucial event in history, leading to unintended consequences in the present.

Psychological Breakdown: Push your character to the brink of a mental breakdown, exploring the complexities of their psyche and their journey towards recovery.

Unwanted Prophecy: Have your character be the subject of a prophecy they want no part of, as it places them in grave danger or disrupts their life.

Loss of a Loved One: Kill off a beloved character or make your protagonist witness the death of someone close to them, igniting a quest for revenge or justice.

Incurable Curse or Disease: Curse your character with an incurable ailment or supernatural curse, and follow their journey to find a cure or accept their fate.

Sudden Disappearance: Make a character disappear mysteriously, leaving the others to search for them and uncover the truth.

Betrayal of Morals: Force your character into a situation where they must compromise their ethical values for a greater cause, leading to moral dilemmas and internal conflict.

Loss of a Precious Object: Have your character lose a cherished possession or artifact that holds sentimental or magical significance, setting them on a quest to recover it.

Political Intrigue: Place your character in a position of power or influence, then subject them to political intrigue, manipulation, and power struggles.

Existential Crisis: Make your character question the meaning of life, their purpose, and their place in the universe, leading to a philosophical journey of self-discovery.

Remember that misfortunes should serve a purpose in your story, driving character growth, plot development, and thematic exploration.

[moondirti]

cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

[next]

[sehunniepotwrites]

with a little pixie dust | mk.l

It’s just a little faith and trust, and with a little pixie dust, your wildest dreams will be yours.

SYNOPSIS. There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

GENRE. Fluff, Comedy, Best friends-to-lovers!AU, Theme Park!AU, Disneyland!AU, meddling/matchmaking friend group, all the romantic tropes that come with a theme park setting

WORD COUNT. 11.9k

WARNINGS. a lot of Disney references (movies, songs, parks, etc.), profanity, food/drink consumption, theme park rides, nothing too crazy tbh

PLAYLIST. 200 - Mark | Popcorn - D.O. | Dreams Come True - NCT 127 | Angel Eyes - NCT 127 | Fireflies - NCT Dream | Amusement Park - Baekhyun | Candy - Baekhyun | Sh-Boom - The Chords

PARK ANNOUNCEMENTS. I understand that not everyone has been to Disneyland. Because I want to paint the perfect picture in your head as you read through the fic, each scene will be titled with the land/area they are in and a picture of the land/area will be hyperlinked with a visual. It's unnecessary to click them but it would be a lil helpful! <3 DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work.

Your graduation commencement came and went. The spectacle flew by so slowly but so quickly at the same time. You can’t exactly describe how you’re feeling now that you’ve graduated–relief is mixed in with panic, happiness mixed with dread. It’s a jumble of emotions you can’t quite comprehend but alas, that is the wonder of adulthood.

The happiest takeaway from your college experience is not the expensive degree you earned but the special friends you made. Karina was the first friend you made in college because she was your roommate. She introduced you to her high school friend, Jeno, who then dragged you two to the ginormous welcome event. It was there you met Donghyuck and last but definitely not least, Mark Lee. 

The other two boys were attractive, yes, but there was something about Mark that drew you to him. Donghyuck talked as much as him, sure, and Jeno’s attractiveness was on another level than Mark’s but that boy immediately caught your attention. Maybe it was the way he spoke and never completed a thought or the way he’d laugh so unabashedly, losing all control of his body that got to you. He was so incredibly endearing that your heart just claimed him.  Years later, when the friendship is stronger than ever, that beating muscle in your chest refuses to let Mark go. 

One morning the summer after graduation, you wake up in a hotel room with an alarm blaring at 6:00am. You roll over and groan, blindly reaching to stop the device. Karina is rustling inside the sheets next to you, hoping the noise will go away. Jeno and Donghyuck are on the other bed snoring up a storm. Mark, on the other hand, rolls uncomfortably on the pull-out couch. 

On normal days, the alarm set for six in the morning would be a sin but today is not a regular day. It is the day your group saved up for. 

The five of you, with your similar interests in movies and theme parks, wanted to go to Disneyland together for years. After graduation, you finally had the money and freedom for it. 

Your hypothetical plan finally made it out of the group chat—that is your driving force to get up. While doing so, you hit Karina’s side and she grumbles in response. The two of you agreed you’d wake up earlier since it would take you longer to get ready. The guys, however, could sleep in. 

As you quietly pass by the couch, Mark asks, “Is it time to get up already?” He must’ve heard the shuffling. There's darkness under his eyes. You can tell he didn’t sleep well last night. On top of his eyes struggling to open up, his voice sounds incredibly hoarse and filled with fatigue.

“No,” you answer, patting his messy head of brown hair. His body reacts positively to your touch, eyes closed and neck stretching to meet your touch. He releases a relaxed sigh as your fingers card through his thick strands. 

Lowering yourself to his level, you continue to play with his hair. “Sleep well last night?”

“Nah, not really, like dude, this shit really isn’t comfortable,” he complains with a deep exhale, “but I volunteered to take the couch so…”

“Move to mine,” you tell him, gesturing to the unmade bed. You hear the water running and figure that Karina jumped into the shower to help wake herself up. “Try to get a little more sleep, I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

Too tired to fight back, Mark languidly moves towards the bed. Once close enough, his body drops onto the mattress and he wiggles his way under the covers. You watch him until his breathing evens out. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep; after all, he did most of the driving on your road trip down to Southern California. Satisfied, you move to start your morning hotel routine. 

The fresh smell of coffee hits you as you do your skin care, apply your makeup, and brush your teeth. Karina’s done in the bathroom shortly after and you claim it to change into your outfit of the day. When the final touches of your look are finished, forty minutes have passed and it’s time to wake up the rest. 

You wake Jeno first because he’s the easiest and whisper that there’s fresh coffee waiting for him. Donghyuck throws a bit of a fit when you shake him awake, stuffing his face in his pillow. He gets up after a few threats from Karina, whining over how mean she is to him. 

Part of you wants to let Mark rest for a little bit longer, especially after knowing how exhausted he is. There’s the option of letting the other three go first while you wait for Mark to wake up naturally. The other half of you, however, thinks about two things: how much money you all spent getting these tickets and how you promised each other to be at Disneyland from open to close to make your splurge worth it. Being Mark’s best friend, you know how disappointed the guy would be if you stayed behind with him. So with no choice left, you wake him up.

You do so gently, your hand immediately going back to his unruly hair. You comb back his bangs and hold them in place. “Mark, it’s your turn now, everyone else is almost ready.”

As soon as he hears your voice, he stirs. Mark blinks the sleep away, and suddenly, you are the first thing he sees. With you sitting on the bed next to him and your hand still in his hair, Mark thinks he’s still dreaming. “Hmmm?”

“It’s your turn, Spidey,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. “We’re all ready.”

He buries his head in your lap for just a second, wanting to keep this little moment with him a little longer. 

“Okay,” he finally says a minute later, before slipping out of bed. 

Karina claims her rightful place next to you on your shared bed, still warm from Mark’s little nap. She shoots you a look and you ignore her knowing stare. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she challenges you, perfectly drawn eyebrows raised in question.

“That,” you gesture to her face.

“Oh, you mean the look I’m giving you when you share a little cute moment with your best friend who is most definitely more than a best friend, fine,  I won’t do that,” Karina pretends to give up, her hands raised in surrender.

You shush her at once, looking over to the boys that are currently fighting over the sink. Mark’s already dressed in some black cargo pants and an oversized Spider-Man shirt. He’s in the midst of styling his hair, struggling with one strand that will not stay in place. You hear his frustrated huffs and puffs while Jeno and Haechan chuckle at his antics. 

“Does my baby need help?” Donghyuck teases, reaching for Mark’s hair. 

“Yo, dude, no, stop! You’re gonna mess it up!” Mark shouts, backing away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“But you can’t do it on your own, my sweet baby, I’ll help you,” Donghyuck continues with the bit.

You remove yourself from Karina’s conversation and break the two idiots up. 

“C’mere,” you gesture towards Mark. 

He instantly comes to you, dipping his head down to your level as you lean against a piece of furniture. Your fingertips curl that one strand just the way he likes it, framing his forehead, and smile when it’s all finished. So focused on his hair, you almost don’t notice how close his face is to yours. Your breath hitches and you lean back to create more distance. 

Removing your hand from his hair, you smooth the non-existent wrinkles on his baggy tee.“There you go, not hard at all.”

“Right,” he murmurs back, body frozen in place but his large, pretty eyes still aimed at you. 

You clear your throat. “I, um, need to–”

“Oh yeah no, sorry,” he stumbles over his words, moving so you can get through. You shuffle past him, pretending to do a last minute check of your crossbody bag. His stare lingers on you as you fuss over your belongings and put on your Mickey ears.

You try to shake away your thoughts but Karina won’t let you. She slides up to you with a playful smile. “Not even eight in the morning and you’ve already had two little moments. When’s number three happening?”

“In your wildest dreams,” you snap back with a hiss, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Wanting to avoid the conversation from moving further, you open the door. “Let’s move, slowpokes, we gotta go!”

“Or yours,” Karina takes the last word as she exits the room. 

You can’t argue with your roommate because she’s right. You've been wanting to be with Mark and calling him yours since your first year. Yes, there were times in the past when it seemed like he wanted the same–moments just like the two you just shared–but nothing was explicitly said or done. Feelings were left unsaid. They lingered in the air until the romantic vibe fizzled out and the moment ended.  To love and be loved by Mark Lee is your wildest dream. It’s the one you’re sure will never come true. However, there’s a sort of magic in the air in Disneyland–a magic that will make even the impossible possible. You wonder if that bit of magic will apply to you, too.

✨ TOMORROWLAND

7:45am arrives and your friends are following you like little ducklings following their mother. Without you, they would be lost causes. 

It’s not your first time in the parks so naturally, you are the one who takes charge. You have all the tickets on your phone, scanning them one by one at the main entrance gate as your friends go through the turnstiles. They wait patiently until you are the last one through the gate. 

Karina holds your hand, giggling as you stroll through Main Street, happily taking in the sights and sounds of Disneyland. Mark, Jeno, and Donghyuck are behind you, phones out to capture anything and everything in sight. You hear them excitedly discussing the map, mentioning things that they want to do, and you mentally take note of them all. 

At exactly 8am, the ropes held by the cast members drop, signaling the official opening of the park. You quickly lead your friends towards the right of the famous castle and fight your way into Tomorrowland for Space Mountain. As one of the most popular attractions, it’s not so bad in the mornings when you’re one of the firsts in line. Jeno mentioned this ride in the past and you are determined to get him on it. 

The crowd is packed like sardines and Karina links her arm through yours as people shove their way through. Amidst the craziness, someone grabs hold of your free hand from behind. From the way his hand fits in yours, you can tell exactly who it is. Jeno’s hand is much larger than this one and it’s a lot rougher than Donghyuck. 

You turn your head to see Mark who asks you a question with a simple look. He knows you’re not too fond of crowds and is using this silent exchange as a check-up. You appreciate the gesture, much like how you appreciate every other way Mark looks out for you, and reassure him with a squeeze of his hand. You’ve frequented the park many times over the years so despite the mass of people, you know the theme park like the back of your hand. Mark returns the action and brushes his thumb against your knuckles. He doesn’t let go as the crowd dissipates into the ride queue and you don’t mind that at all.

As much as you love this dark roller coaster, you partially dread going on the ride, or any ride for that matter. The uneven number in your group guarantees that one person will be a single rider throughout the day and you are certain that will be you.  Jeno and Karina have been dating for a while now, so it makes sense that they ride together. Even with Mark’s hand still in yours, you’re certain he’ll sit with Donghyuck. When it comes to Mark, Donghyuck loves to cling to his best friend, no matter how annoyed the older one gets. It’s their thing and has been since childhood so who are you to get in the way of that? 

The wait goes by quickly, especially with the entertaining debates your friend group comes up with while queued up. It takes your group a mere thirty minutes to get to the front of the line. Once assigned your rows, you wiggle your hand out of Mark’s grip and silently move toward the last gate to make room for Donghyuck.  

“Wait, where are you going?” Mark masks his hurt with a confused tone.

“To the back,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Oh,” his tone drops and you can barely hear him through the echoing sounds of the ride. “I thought–”

“Huh?” you shout from the back row.

Seeing you in the last row, Donghyuck pauses for a second as if contemplating on where to go. “Wait. Why are you here?”

“What do you mean? Are you saying I can’t be here?”

“No. You’re supposed to be–” Your mischievous friend is cut off by the gates opening and the employees instructing you to enter and lower your lap bars. You do what they say and Donghyuck sighs before moving to sit with Mark.

You notice the frustrated look on Donghyuck’s face and an exasperated one on Mark’s but it’s too loud in the room to hear whatever serious thing they’re discussing. You try to lean in closer to catch a glimpse of their conversation but by the time the safety checks are done, you’re launched into darkness at a high speed with the ride soundtrack and Mark’s screams of terror filling your ears.

The ride ends quickly and you all rush to find your photo. Everyone in your vehicle looks like they enjoyed the ride minus Mark, who hid his handsome face in Donghyuck’s arm. The green-eyed monster makes a short appearance in your mind and you wonder how it would’ve been if you stayed with Mark. Would he cling onto you like that too, with his arm looped through yours and his face buried in your neck?

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a roller coaster?” Mark whines as you take a picture of the screen. You immediately send it to your group chat and Giselle, the one person missing on this trip, reacts to it right away.

“Because I knew you’d try to get out of it, you scaredy cat.” 

“Rude,” he scoffs, clinging onto you as you lead them to a breakfast spot. 

“Spidey, it’s really not that bad.”

“Yeah, says the thrill seeker,” Mark pouts at you, which makes you pinch his cheek. It’s not as soft as it used to be, his baby fat from your first year long gone. It’s replaced by the prominent bone structure that only highlights the features that you secretly want to kiss. “Warn a guy next time.”

“Okay, okay but you still did it! I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah but…” His voice trails off.

“But?” You echo, wondering what Mark wants to say.

He looks shyly at you, a faint redness painting his skin, “Can you sit by me next time?” He asks because you make him feel brave even when he isn’t. 

Mark’s timid request has you grinning from ear to ear and your heart beating faster than any roller coaster you’ve been on. Your best friend is expecting an answer, you can tell by his teeth sinking into his thin bottom lip and brown boba eyes widening with each second. 

“I mean, you know, like, sitting with Hyuck is cool,” Mark stutters when you don’t answer, trying to explain himself, “but I’d–well, I thought you were gonna sit next to me?” His voice raises at the end due to nervousness and you can’t help but giggle. 

“You mean, you were gonna leave poor Hyuck all alone?” you poke fun at him.

Mark deadpans, “He’d survive on his own.”

“I mean, I’ve been here before and it’s everyone else’s first time. I’m okay riding by myself,” you push back with a frown, trying to convince Mark and yourself for that matter, “I just want to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

“I get that but–”

“We’re here!” you cut him off, stopping in front of a quick-service restaurant. You gesture to the door and the others go inside. 

Donghyuck, Jeno, and Karina make their way in. You move to follow them but Mark stops you with a hand to your wrist. He hesitates, his mouth opening and closing, and you patiently wait for what he needs to express. The boy lets out a long exhale. 

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that riding with Hyuck is fun and all but I…” He pauses again. Mark has this habit of not finishing a full thought and you think this is one of those times. Despite that, you listen attentively. “I want you to be my ride partner today, okay?”

And again, your heart shoots to the moon. Its fuel is the adrenaline that runs through your veins as you process his words. A hint of a smile begins to peak out as Mark fuses in front of you.

“I mean, like, I’ve been to theme parks with Hyuck since we were kids, I’m not missing much with that and I just–I kinda–you know–want to experience things with you today.”

The way he confesses this, like every other thing Mark does, is adorable. You hope your forgetful brain will store this memory along with the rest of your core ones. He’s about to go off on another rant, you can tell by the small puffs of breath he takes and the redness that’s flushing his ears, so you end it before it starts. 

You cup a hand over his cheek to stop him from going even further and your fingers sense his rapidly beating pulse. “Okay,” you reply softly. 

That one word alone has Mark’s expression changing from an unsure one to the brightest face you’ve seen him make all morning. He rivals the sparkles on top of the castle and the bright sun that’s shining over you. 

“Really?” He perks up.

“Yeah,” you giggle at his change in mood, “now let’s get some food in you, Spidey boy.”

✨ THE CASTLE

“Get out, Hyuck! Why are you like this?” Karina yells from her spot beside Jeno, clearly frustrated with your friend. 

Karina and Jeno stand at the side of the castle, far enough from the crowds but close enough to still get their picture with the iconic landmark. Donghyuck is just out of frame, ready to jump in to ruin whatever adorable shot the couple is trying to take. It doesn’t really matter since you’re continuously snapping away on Karina’s phone. Knowing those two, more than one picture will turn out beautiful. Looking at them, how could they not?

“Because you’re taking too damn long and I want pictures too!”

“You already got yours!” Completely used to their bickering, you shake your head behind the camera.

She’s right. You’ve already taken everyone’s solo pictures at this picturesque spot–Karina taking the longest–and now there were requests for group or partner shots. Jeno, being the perfect Instagram boyfriend, helped take the shots of you and your girl best friend with no pointers needed. You thought you were almost done with this photoshoot but you guessed wrong.

“Not with Mark though!” Donghyuck shouts back, pulling Mark to his side.

“Yo, wait, what?” Mark squeaks.

“You got good enough shots, so move!” Donghyuck has no shame when shoving the resident couple away and dragging Mark to the exact place they stood. You shoot Karina an apologetic look, handing her phone back, right before you grab hold of Donghyuck’s device.

The younger of the duo, as affectionate as he is, has no problem hugging Mark tightly for a picture. Mark sighs but goes with it without much of a fight. You take pictures of Donghyuck hugging Mark from behind, clinging onto the older’s arm, forcing him into making a heart and standing back-to-back. As this goes on for several minutes, you endlessly snap pictures, not even looking at the screen anymore. While doing so, you miss the hushed conversation that happens at the other end of the camera. 

“Why am I doing this with you?” Mark hisses in between a grin. His arm around Donghyuck tightens and the younger one almost chokes at the sudden attack. “Are we done yet?”

“Why? Is there someone else you want to take pictures with?”

“Shut up.”

“I will not,” Donghyuck whispers under his breath, wiggling out of Mark’s grip. His volume raises as he announces, “Mark, catch me!” With that, the mischievous kid jumps onto Mark’s back and the elder of the duo has no choice but to do what he says.

Mark groans, “Why are you so annoying?”

“I will continue to be annoying until you man up,” Donghyuck nuzzles his forehead into Mark’s hair with a smirk. “I could keep this going or–”

With that, Mark lets go of his friend’s thighs and Donghyuck slides down with a helpless yelp. The boy is dramatic while dropping to the ground but Mark pays little attention to the action. Instead, he smiles shyly at you.

You raise an eyebrow at the duo’s suspicious actions. “Are you guys good or can we move on now?”

“I–um, actually–” He’s stuttering over his words more than usual, a red tainting his normal skin tone. You know he’s embarrassed but you can’t figure out what’s making him feel this way. The chaotic duo is up to their usual antics of Donghyuck being irritatingly touchy and Mark slowly losing his patience with it all so there’s no visible variable in your eyes. So, what’s the difference in this situation?

“What’s up?” When he doesn’t answer right away, you take that as a sign to keep moving. You turn your body away from him, adjust the straps of your bag to feel more comfortable, and get ready to move on. The park app on your phone is open to all the current wait times and you note that Fantasyland has low numbers, determining the most logical choice for your next destination. 

You open your mouth, preparing to spill out your plan to explore Fantasyland when Mark’s feeble voice breaks the silence. 

You don’t quite hear him the first time, leaning towards him in hopes that will help you focus on his voice alone. The excitement around the area only increases when the park marching band makes their way to the center of the castle for their afternoon set. Mark huffs in frustration when you fail to hear him for the second time. 

But as they say, the third time’s always the charm.

“Take a picture with me!” he yells when the band goes silent. The flush on his face increases tenfold and you almost coo at how flustered he is. His eyes were wide, almost begging for you to grant his request. His ears match the color of his Spider-Man plush hanging on the belt loop of his bottoms. 

Wanting to tease him a little more, you say, “We already took a group picture, Marky.”

You hold back your laugh when his hand goes back to fumble with his hair. He muses it, the strands now messy, making him look even more endearing than ever. 

“Yeah but–you know what I mean,” Mark’s voice drops at the end, his lips forming a pout. How desperately you want to peck his cheeks but you refrained, still scared of crossing that line. His brows furrowed. “You know what, never mind, dude, let’s go.”

Just as he began to walk away, you tugged him back into place. “I know what you meant, Spidey, I just wanted to mess with you.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he sulks and your fingers reach out to pinch his cheeks. It’s not quite a kiss but it’s close enough. 

You run your fingers through his messy hair, quickly fixing it and Mark just lets you, enjoying the little touches you are so willing to give.

“Hyuckie, can you please?” Donghyuck knows exactly what you’re asking of him, taking the phone out of your hands. He sets your phone to 0.5, bends down to get a better angle, and begins to snap away. All the while, you and Mark are a bit awkwardly standing side-by-side for the pictures. Your bodies are stiff--his hand is barely around your waist while his other hand is holding up a peace sign. You copy his pose, your fingers automatically making a V. 

“You guys,” Donghyuck sighs, grabbing the attention of Karina and Jeno, “at least act like you’re having fun with these pics. We’re at fucking Disneyland right now.” 

Karina laughs at how hopeless the two of you are. She takes pity on you and jumps in to give directions on how to improve your poses. “Mark, if you can just tighten your grip around her waist–”

Mark gulps, his nerves at an all-time high. Your best friend underestimates his own strength as he does what he is told. It happens a little too abruptly and you’re suddenly lurching into his body. Your head lightly hits his chest and you place a hand on the spot to create a little distance. He immediately fusses over you, looking down to check if you’re okay and it turns you into a giggling mess. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you reassure Mark with a bright smile on your face.

Once he notices that you are nothing but smiles, the curve of Mark’s pretty mouth matches yours. It brightens his handsome face so much that it matches the glitter found at the castle tops. You take a mental picture of the face he makes, eyes and nose scrunched up with happiness, and the golden glow of the summer sun illuminating his beaming aura. 

Mark shakes his head and chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You sink into his hold, your chin perching on his shoulder. 

In your mind, Mark Lee is your (awkward) Prince Charming. While you stand together by the castle, you cherish every second he makes you feel like royalty.  He rocks you for a couple of seconds, swaying to the song playing in his head, and then pulls away. His stare, however, never leaves yours. You don’t dare break the connection. Your eyes curve up into little crescent moons and your hands drift back down to his chest. You feel the slight heaving from his laughter and it makes you giggle even more. 

“Stop laughing at me,” he says with a smile.

“Never,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

The two of you are so caught up in your little moment, that you forget that your friends have phones in their hands, documenting everything that just occurred. 

“Oh, that one’s cute,” Karina says, snapping the two out of your shared reverie. Jeno and Donhyuck’s heads peak over her shoulders to look at the picture she’s talking about and they hum in reply. Then, she lifts up the phone to your eye level. You and Mark lean forward to take a closer look but the boy refuses to let go of you as you scroll through the selection.

Your finger swipes through what feels like thousands of photos before landing on one that catches your eye. In the photo, you’re so consumed in your laughter, lids closed happily and your dazzling smile half-covered by your hand. Mark holds you in his arms, fondly looking at you with sparkling eyes.

You stare at it a little too long, taking in the way he looks at you. You steal a glance at him and he’s wearing that same soft smile as he scans the photo. It made you wonder if your best friend always looked at you that way. You wonder if this was your first time making note of it. 

You pull yourself out of it, knowing that if you ruminate on it anymore, you'll sink into a deep neverending ocean. Your finger taps the bottom of the screen and the heart fills up, adding the picture to your favorite album. You just know this is a picture that had to be included in your photo dump.

“I like this one,” you muster out, fighting the urge to make eye contact with him.

You feel a squeeze around your waist, one that lingers for a moment, and hear him whisper, “I like this one too.”

Mark says it with certainty and with a hint of longing like there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. 

There is, of course, a message buried in his words. Mark likes how it’s just the two of you in the picture. He likes how it encapsulates how happy the two of you are in each other’s company. He likes it because it shows how in love with you he is. Mark especially likes it because it has you in it.

Mark Lee likes–no, loves–anything with you in it.

Mark loves you. 

Point blank.

Mark loves you.

And Mark hopes that by the end of the night in this magical place, where anything can happen, he can gather enough faith and trust in himself to tell you how he truly feels.

✨ FANTASYLAND

While strolling through Fantasyland, where all things fairy tales come to life, you make a pit stop at a store filled with costumes for princes and princesses. Your friends were amazed to see that deeper into the store, there was a salon that catered especially to children. All the kids sitting in the salon chairs were beaming with excitement as they got their hair and makeup done while dressed up as their favorite characters.

Karina coos as a little princess dressed as Rapunzel passed by her. She ran her fingers through the skirt ends of the costumes, admiring all the different dresses, while the boys immediately reached for the plastic weapons and shields. You hear their dramatic noises as Donghyuck stabs Jeno with a sword. Mark’s familiar laughter bounces off the walls as the fight continues, his hand shakily recording the ridiculous exchange.

“What is this place?” Karina asks curiously, turning to you for an answer. You knew she would love this place–the girl, although people perceived her as a tough girl, loved anything that had to do with princesses. 

There’s a sparkle in her eye, which only brightens when she approaches the section belonging to her favorite princess. Karina grabs hold of a pretty character headband, removing the one that’s on her head and tries on the new one. She spins to face you, silently asking if it looks good on her, and you nod enthusiastically, giving her a thumbs up. 

“Welcome to the Bippity Boppity Boutique,” you reply happily. Pointing to the cast members working on their guests, you continued, “They’re called Fairy Godmothers in Training. They help the kiddos with their makeovers.”

“Have you done it before?” Mark pops up out of nowhere, a little out of breath from the play fighting he did with the other two. He must’ve joined in the little spar after taking some pictures.

“Yeah, when I was little. I was Cinderella,” you laugh, remembering how pleased you were to be in the chair. You remind yourself to look for those photos; it’s been a while since you’ve seen them. “Can’t do it now as an adult though. Sorry, Rina.”

“Then why’d you bring me here?” She pouts at that, “To torture me? That’s mean. There goes my dream of being a princess.”

Mark bites back a chuckle at her bitter response and Karina has no trouble slapping his shoulder to shut him up. You choose to ignore the childish exchange.

“Well,” you start to say, inching towards the counter where a cast member eyes you curiously. “We can’t get full makeovers but we can get pixie dusted.”

“Pixie dusted?” Mark echoes, tilting his head in confusion. Your fingers twitch and you fight the urge to pet his head.

“The fairy godmothers have wands with them and they basically sprinkle glitter on top of your head while you make a wish. It’s really cute!”

The light in Karina’s eyes glows even brighter than before. “Really? Oh my god, can I do it?!” she asks, bouncing on the heels of her feet. 

“I knew you’d like it,” you giggle.

“Babe!” She calls Jeno over. 

His head pops up over a display, resembling a puppy hopping out of a hole they just dug. “Yeah?”

“Get pixie dusted with me,” Karina requests, reaching out for him with her wiggling fingers. 

Jeno quickly sets down the toys he was playing with, leaving a whining Donghyuck behind, and follows his girlfriend’s lead blindly. 

You and Mark watch them silently, both with smiles on your faces, as the couple holds hands and closes their eyes. The worker mumbles a little spiel as she taps her wand, the glitter raining down on their heads. Your camera is at the ready, finger holding down on the burst button for this special moment, capturing Karina’s tiny squeals and Jeno’s chuckles as the pixie dust settles in their hair and on their skin. 

“Anyone else?” The Fairy Godmother in Training asks politely, looking at you expectantly.

Mark nudges your side. “You gonna do it?”

“Of course. I’ll never pass up getting pixie dusted,” you say matter-of-factly, stepping forward.

“I want to do it, too,” Mark proclaims, stepping with you.

You laugh and warn him, “You wanna deal with glitter in your hair? It’s going to stay there for days.”

He shrugs, “They grant wishes, right? Maybe I need mine to come true.”

“Oh, yeah? And what wish is that, Spidey?”

He holds a slender figure to his lips. “If I tell you, then it definitely won’t come true. And I need all the help I can get with this one.”

You eye him suspiciously and when he doesn’t give it up, you sigh in defeat. Preparing yourself for the glitter, you bow your head down and close your eyes with your fingers linked together in the tightest hold. Your best friend nudges his forehead against yours and you let out a surprised giggle.

Just like Mark said he needs all the help he can get. He isn’t wishing for any regular thing. He wishes for something more precious than that–your heart. 

Sure, this is most likely playing make-believe but Mark Lee wants to believe in it. Maybe this is the little bit of magic he needs. Some might say he’s too old for this sort of thing but he wants to believe in fairy godmothers. He wants to believe in the shiny powder that they call pixie dust. He wants to believe in the magic that you do.

So when the glitter pours down on him, Mark shuts his eyes tightly and grips your hands with all his might. 

Mark wishes for your wish to come true,

Mark wishes for your happiness.

But most of all, Mark wishes to be yours.

Your next stop is quite the staple in the park and it’s a must-do on your list. Luckily, they all agree with you and suddenly, you are in line for the iconic teacups. For the summer, the wait isn’t too long–a mere fifteen minutes before it’s your group’s loading time. Before getting on the ride, the five of you decide to break into two groups instead of all squeezing into one tiny spice.

In their excitement, Karina and Donghyuck rush to claim a vehicle. Donghyuck lightly shoves Karina’s side when he realizes they are both aiming for the same cup, causing her to lose her balance. She groans once he hops into the pink teacup with hearts decorating the sides and scurries to grab another pink cup. 

“Why are you two like this?” You shout after them, shaking your head.

“When are we not like this?” Hyuck shouts back, his arms already spread across the rim of the cup. He calls you to join him and you do, closely followed by Mark.

Once you are seated and the door to the vehicle is closed, Donghyuck’s expression changes. “We need to spin this baby as fast as we can and we need to last longer than”–he sends a playful glare towards Jeno, whose hands are already resting on the wheel–“them.”

“Oh god, not this shit again,” you roll your eyes. 

The boys have an ongoing competition when it comes to spinning rides like these. Whoever spins for the longest period wins; the losers have to treat the winners to a prize of their choice. In the past, it’s been food, plushies, and anything else you can think of. 

“Can we just be normal for once?” 

“Bubs,” Mark laughs, “when are we ever normal?”

“Touche.”

Donghyuck dramatically drops his hands on the wheel, “Are you ready?”

There’s really no point in this competition. Although Jeno has a stronger build than you, Mark, or Donghyuck, there are only two of them in their cup as opposed to the three of you. There’s a clear winner. Despite that, you copy your mischievous friend’s actions,  a smile breaking through your unamused facade. “Alright, Hyuck.”

The spiel is blasted over the speakers, the music begins, and off you all go. Laughter surrounds you as the ride begins to spin. Your hands speedily make work and giggles spill out of your mouth when your hands pile on top of Donghyuck. Your friend matches your enthusiasm, his face crinkled in concentration as he turns the wheel, his whole body moving along with the teacup. You steal a glance at Jeno and Karina; seeing them only fueled your competitiveness and motivation to win this useless contest.

Mark, on the other hand, did not add to the spinning. He just watches his best friends, phone in hand. The device captures the most candid moments of you—smile wide enough to hear your laughter through the screen, hair flying in the wind, hands either gripping the wheel or Donghyuck when the cup goes a little too fast. 

Mark snaps a picture of you and Donghyuck cackling, bodies thrown over each other in the height of their fun. Even when your gorgeous smile is aimed at his best friend and not him, jealousy isn’t coursing through his veins. A warm feeling does instead—Mark just loves to see you happy.

He captures one last picture of you, your bright grin shining at him, and your hand reaching towards his camera. If someone were to play that Live Photo back, they would hear the giggles living in your voice as you call Mark’s name to join in on the fun.

This picture is the one he saves in his favorites folder and of course, in his heart.

✨ AVENGERS CAMPUS

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” you ask Mark although the answer is obvious. Ever since you got in line, the boy beside you fidgeted with anything and everything possible. When he wasn’t playing with the keychains on your bag, he messed with the drawstrings of his cargo pants. He had a hard time staying still.

“No one asked you, Bubs," Mark hisses. His voice softens a moment later when he apologizes for snapping. The fussiness he exhibits is adorable in all kinds of ways and you fight the urge to mess with his hair in the meantime. You know it would only make him feel worse.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” you reassure him as the people in front of you step forward. “It’s not every day you meet your childhood hero.”

“Isn’t this–I don’t know–a bit childish of me to feel like this? I mean, it’s just a guy in a suit.” 

“Hey,” you say, hating the way your best friend tried to bring himself down, “we’re here to let our inner child out. If you’re nervous or excited or whatever you’re feeling, just feel it.”

Mark sighs as the line moves again. “Right. You’re right.”

You laugh, ruffling his hair, “Aren’t I always?”

The boy groans, fingers immediately rising to fix his fringe. “Don’t mess it up, dude, it’s almost my turn.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips instead of an apology. You’re so fond of him. “You’re too cute.”

His cheeks flush with a bright red which only increases his cuteness factor. Mark, flustered as ever, opens his mouth to ask what you mean by that. His sentence is interrupted by the character attendant calling for the next person in line. Your best friend’s nerves are at an all-time high at this point and he looks to you for support.

You shake your head negatively and gesture to the phone in your hand. “This is all you, I have to take your pics!”

Mark sticks his tongue at you in retaliation before taking a deep breath. He approaches the awaiting figure with a cautiousness you’ve never seen from him. But with all due respect, Spider-Man is standing right there in front of him. If your favorite comic book and superhero character of all time stood in front of you, you’d probably react the same way. 

“H-hey,” Mark stutters out. You stifle a laugh as you snap the first picture of Mark and Spider-Man shaking hands.

“Hey, man, what’s your name?” Spider-Man greets enthusiastically. He gestures to Mark’s Spider-Man shirt, “Love the shirt.”

“It’s Mark,” he manages to say, “I’m a big fan. We just went on your ride and it was so cool.” Mark gestures to the building behind them, which housed the ride. It was an interactive ride that tasked the riders to help Spider-Man save the Avengers-themed area by shooting webs with motion-tracking technology. “My arm’s kinda tired though, I don’t think I could shoot webs like you.”

His rambling comment makes Spider-Man chuckle, his voice muffled through the red mask. “Yeah, I guess slinging webs isn’t for everyone. But hey, maybe if you train more, and go on the ride a few more times, you’ll be just as good as I am. We’re always looking to recruit new members to the team. You look like you’d be a great addition.”

Mark’s eyes glow with delight as the actor continues to shower him with compliments. “Yo, wait, that’d be so cool!”

“Should I show you some poses to start off with?” Spider-Man excitedly suggests. Mark easily complies and happily follows all the instructions the superhero gives him. While doing so, they stare right into your camera and you snap several photos of each pose. 

The joy radiating off of Mark’s face is enough to make your heart soar to a new height. The merriment he and your other friends exhibit as they make their way through the park is why you keep coming back. Disneyland brings everyone’s happiest self out and you will never grow tired of seeing people’s youthfulness shine through. 

“Got ‘em!” you shout from your place, giving the duo a thumbs up. 

You laugh as both of them return the thumbs up with a lightning-quick speed. Many people pointed out Mark’s speedy reactions, calling them his Spidey senses. Seeing Mark stand tall right next to Spider-Man himself, reacting the same way the character does, makes the term all the more fitting for your friend.

“Hey, you wanna jump in with us for a picture, too?” Spider-Man calls out to you. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, not expecting that at all. Your sole goal was to take Mark’s picture with his hero.  The thought of you joining in for a picture didn’t even cross your mind. “Sure, why not?” you grin, quickly handing the phone to the attendant on standby.

You swiftly shuffle into position, copying Spider-Man’s iconic pose, as the cast member takes a couple of shots on your phone. They prompt you to pose for the professional camera they have on hand as well and the three of you switch up your poses. The wide smile on your face is identical to Mark’s as the flash goes off. A feeling higher than contentment floods your entire being. You’re happy, incredibly so, to be in this moment with Mark and his hero.

You’re happy.

You see Mark dive right into another rambling burst with the prettiest little sparkle in his eye and you’re in love.

You’re happy and in love with Mark. 

Standing by for just a second, you see Spider-Man turn to you and nod his head in acknowledgment. Wordlessly, you open your arms to ask for a hug and the character accepts. “Thank you for making my Spidey’s day,” you whisper as Spider-Man squishes you to his side. “It means a lot to us.”

The actor catches onto the nickname and comments, “He’s your hero, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s my everything,” you confess under your breath and your face immediately heats up upon realizing what you said to a complete stranger.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” 

The moment passes so quickly, that Mark doesn’t even grasp that two of his favorite people held their own side conversation. You give Spider-Man one last wave, retreat back to the attendant who hands you your phone, and stand off to the side to swipe through the pictures. Mark stops his little rant to watch you with a slight tilt of his mouth.

“She’s a good one,” Spider-Man brings Mark out of his thoughts, “We could use a recruit like her too.”

“She’s really special,” Mark lets out a fond laugh as you happily show your friends the pictures you’ve captured. “She’s my MJ, man.”

The character beside him laughs, not out of ridicule, but because of the similarities the two of you share. “Does she know that?” 

“Nah,” Mark’s hair ruffles with the breeze as he shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Better let her know soon then,” he pats Mark on the back, gently pushing him in your direction. “And don’t let her go once you have her,” his hero adds as an afterthought. 

Mark turns back to give Spider-Man one last smile, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Mark Lee doesn’t have you in the way that he wants to, at least not yet, but once he does, there is no way he is letting you out of his sight. He may be the one who carries the heroic nickname but you are the one who has caught him in your web of love. Wherever you go, you have his whole heart. 

You are his whole heart. 

How can Mark Lee ever live without his whole heart?

✨ CARSLAND / SH-BOOM

“Hurry up, hurry up!” you call to your exhausted friends, who drag their feet behind you. 

“But we’re tired,” Karina whines as her steps grow heavier. She’s stolen her boyfriend’s hat to beat the heat but has little luck doing so. Jeno, noting this, turns his portable fan to face her. She wearily smiles at him, squeezing the hand conjoined with hers to thank him.

Donghyuck echoes Karina’s sentiments but you ignore their complaints altogether.

There’s no time to slow down, you think, as you make note of the time. The sun is about to set and your group still hasn’t reached the spot you want–no, need–to be in. You understand their exhaustion because you feel the same way but deep down, you know the hustling will be worth their while. 

“You guys, just do what she says,” Mark comes to your defense, giving you a reassuring glance, “I mean, she hasn’t let us down this whole day. I’m sure whatever she’s rushing us for will be worth it.”

You weave and bob through the crowds with ease and your friends fall in line behind you. You pass through the entrance of Avengers Campus and lead them straight into Carsland. A mass of people are gathered at the entrance of the land and you cringe at how packed it is. But upon hearing Donghyuck gasp with excitement, you grin and bear it. In the past, your friend mentioned that Cars was one of his favorite childhood movies. Since you’ve found that out, you’ve gifted him a Lightning McQueen present every year for his birthday.

“Holy shit, bro, I’m in Radiator Springs,” Donghyuck clutches your arm, “This is the best thing ever.”

“Oh, believe me, Hyuckie, it gets even better,” you say, pulling your friend along with you. You giggle at his reactions to every little detail you point out–how everything is built to scale, that all visitors are meant to be cars, how every third blink of the traffic light is slower just like the movie–and his brown eyes widen in childlike wonder.

Once again, Mark stands back as you take care of Donghyuck. He appreciates all the thought you put into this trip–making sure you know everyone’s specific interests and adjusting the day’s itinerary to meet everyone’s wishes. Jeno wanted to get on every thrill ride possible, so you purchased the Lightning Lane express passes to guarantee he had a good time. Karina wanted to feel like a princess, so you took her to the Boutique to get pixie dusted and scheduled time in the Fantasyland area to take as many pictures as she wanted. You spent a bit of time in Avengers Campus so Mark could get the entire Spider-Man experience. And now, you’re expertly guiding Donghyuck through Radiator Springs, equally excited as your friend who’s experiencing everything for the first time.

When everyone else voiced how worn out they were throughout the long summer day, you kept the spirits up and took care of each and every one of them. You may have not outwardly mentioned how spent you were but Mark caught onto the signs. While you were busy tending to each person's wants and needs, Mark found himself taking care of you. You’ve done so much for the group, he wonders what exactly he could do in return.

“Alright, stop right here,” you stop in the middle of the land, granting the group the perfect view of the land, “and face this way.” 

“Why are we stopping? Isn’t the ride right there?” Donghyuck points to the end of the area. “I thought we were heading there.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “there’s something we gotta do first.”

“What’s everyone standing around for?” Jeno asks, hugging Karina from behind. 

The others take a look around to see that a large crowd has formed in this area of the park, all facing the same way. Everyone is eagerly waiting for the same thing you are, their phones propped up in the air. You take another peek at your weather app and it deems it around one minute before sunset. Perfect. 

“Well, my good sir, you are about to find out,” you answer cryptically.

You squeeze Donghyuck’s hand. “You ready, Hyuck?”

“For wha–” His sentence is cut off by the area loop music increasing in volume. Everyone around you cheers as Sh-Boom by The Chords starts to blast through the speakers. “Oh my god.”

The rest of Donghyuck’s sentence is trapped between his teeth as the neon lights, starting from the furthest point of the area, begin to light up. It’s an exact replica of the movie, the lights flickering on with the beat of the old-time music. The bright lights resemble your friends’ expressions, the giddiness of experiencing this iconic moment apparent on their faces. Donghyuck is practically glowing with childlike wonder, bouncing on the balls of his feet. You snap a photo of him as he continues to take it in. Jeno sways Karina back and forth, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s waist and chin resting on her shoulder as she records the whole thing.

Smiling, you turn to look at Mark whose eyes are solely trained on you. His phone is in hand, aimed in your direction, and you assume he took a picture of the lit-up signs behind you. “Isn’t it so pretty?” you ask, hands gesturing to the entire area.

Mark’s gaze doesn’t falter, doesn’t leave you when he answers, “It’s the prettiest.”

A heat spreads to all parts of your face and body at his flirtatious response. You turn away from him, too embarrassed to meet his soft stare. “It’s one of my favorite times of the day. My family always came here at sunset just to watch it. It’s fun watching everyone’s reactions and seeing people dance to the music, like them”–you point to a dancing couple, the man spinning his partner and the woman laughing gleefully–“I dunno, it just makes me happy.”

“I can see why,” Mark chuckles.

Your gaze lingers on the duo and Mark spots a look of longing in your eyes. Your best friend sees a chance, one as clear as day, and with all the bravado he can muster, Mark takes it. He tugs you towards him and you gasp at the sudden movement.

“What?” you whisper.

Mark sticks out a hand for you to take and bashfully says, “Dance with me.”

“What?” you repeat in shock, eyes dropping from his face to his outstretched hand.

“You heard what I said,” your best friend chuckles, “Dance with me.”

Instead of waiting for a response from you, Mark takes your palm in his and gently places his other hand around your waist. Your breath catches in your throat, anxious eyes meeting his own, and the boy shoots you a reassuring smile. He takes the lead, guiding you through a few swing steps as you dance on the street. You’re a little unfocused through it all, your mind wandering from the warmth of his touch to his unfaltering look. 

“Have you always known how to swing?” you ask as he leads you into a spin.

Mark dances with an ease you don’t expect from his clumsy self. You’re used to his harder, sharper style of dancing he exhibits when you all go out dancing–the lighter style catching you completely off-guard. It makes you fall for your best friend a little more than you already have.

He nods as he catches you in his arms before turning you around again. “Yeah, I learned from watching my parents dance. I only really danced with my mom, though. I guess I was just–” Mark coughs, shaking his head.

“Just what?” You egg him on, wanting to hear what your crush has to say.

“No, never mind, it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” you quip.

“Nah, it’s stupid,” Mark tries to dismiss it, distracting you with another spin.

With him being the perfect leader, your sneaker-clad feet move in time with him, following wherever he goes. “Nothing you say is going to be stupid,” you add, squeezing his palm.

You know you’ve won the argument when Mark sighs. He’s so close to you now, you can feel his breath hit your face. There’s a hint of fresh spearmint, coming from the gum you offered him earlier. Any closer and your lips can press right into his, completing the romantic moment that you could only dream about. 

Mark gulps nervously as you look up at him with confusion. The words come tumbling out before he can stop himself from making a fool, “I guess I was just waiting for the right partner.”

There’s more to Mark’s sweet reply than meets the eye. Once again, you burn up at the implications. You shouldn’t assume the meaning behind your crush’s words but something about the way he said it makes you believe that you are the partner he is waiting for. To be deemed worth waiting for is a girl’s deepest fantasy and your heart swells in your chest at the thought of it all.

Despite the rapid thoughts running through your head, the only thing you can spit out is a quiet, “Oh.” 

Mark renders you speechless at the favorite part of the day and in your favorite place in the entire world; he pockets this as a big win. With his warm hand resting at your waist and the other clutching your calm, Mark leads you into a flurry of sequential moves. Never once does he bump into another person in the crowd, he navigates through the small space you’re granted so gracefully. Dancing with him brings you to such a natural high, you feel lighter than air. 

The laughter that spills from your lips fills his heart with joy and as the song reaches its end, the arm at your waist tightens enough to usher you into a dip. As your torso lowers, his body follows your own. He keeps you in this position, his pretty brown eyes glued onto your shaking pupils. He’s so near, that your sight triangulates from his eyes down to his grinning lips. You notice the pink that tickles his skin, from his squishy cheeks to his pierced ears.

As Mark pulls you back up, you circle your arms around his neck and give him the biggest hug in existence. You whisper a light and heartfelt, “thank you,” in his ears and Mark responds by pulling you closer.

While the song that played through the speakers announced, “Life could be a dream,” Mark Lee deems that his life already is. To him, his life is a dream and that’s because you’re in it. 

✨ FIREWORKS

The sun has set and your entire group is tired but the day’s not quite over yet. The five of you are amongst the throng of people seated on the asphalt, bodies splayed in all sorts of configurations. Karina and Jeno are in front of you, whispering happily as they go through all of their pictures together. Donghyuck has no problem taking a nap on the floor, using some plastic bags as his makeshift mattress and Karina’s new plushie as a pillow. Mark, on the other hand, is seated on your right and silently playing a game on his phone. 

The extent of your tiredness didn’t hit until you sat on the floor, a groan leaving your mouth as you fought to find a comfortable position. The ground really isn’t the best place to sit but you have to camp out for the best view of the castle and the fireworks. You find yourself hugging your legs and resting your face on your knees to keep yourself warm. The weather is a lot cooler than it was earlier in the day and the slight breeze has you shivering. 

“You okay?” Mark asks, still looking at his phone.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“You keep moving around like you’re uncomfortable or something,” Mark pauses his game and notices the goosebumps on your skin, “Bubs, are you cold?”

“Yeah, just a little bit but I’ll deal with it.” You leave out the fact that you’re tempted to buy a sweater from a gift shop, just as you do every single time you get cold in the parks. It’s an expensive tradition you need to break. Plus, there’s no more room in your closet for more cozy crewneck sweaters. 

Another quiver runs through your body as the winds blow through the area. Mark frowns as you tighten the grip around your legs. He immediately shrugs off the zip-up he wore, draping it around your curled-up shoulders. The warmth of the fabric combined with the smell of his cologne hits you all at once. 

“Mark, I told you I’m okay,” you pout at him as he gets up from his spot. He stops you from taking it off, his palms firm on your back. “You’re gonna get cold.”

He disagrees, pulling the hood over your head. “Nah, I run hot anyway. I don’t want you to get sick or anything so just leave it on, okay?”

“But–”

“For me?” Mark pushes. He smiles when you pout even further, knowing there’s no way you can beat him in this conversation. “That’s my girl,” he adds, a hand coming to cup the back of your neck. A sudden urge comes over him and before he even places what he's doing, Mark plants a tiny kiss on the top of your head. You feel the slight pressure of his lips between the fabric and your head is reeling the second he pulls back.

“I’ll be right back,” Mark whispers before setting off into the crowd.

You’re frozen in place, the ability to respond nonexistent in your mind. You simply watch as he fades away and then, the shyest smile breaks through. There are no clouds left in the sky but you’re officially on Cloud 9, your heart beating rapidly in your chest, and your face buried into the sleeve ends of his jacket.  

True to his word, your best friend returns fifteen minutes later with a plastic bag in one hand and a hot drink in the other. Mark pulls out the coziest Disney-themes blanket you have ever seen, folds it in half, and then places it onto the floor. He motions for you to sit on it and you smile even wider. “Better?” he asks as you settle crisscross on the soft fabric. 

A relieved sigh slips past your lips as the soft material rubs against your skin. “So much better.”

Mark plops himself right beside you. His bare arm presses against yours in an attempt to fit on the blanket. There’s lots of space left but you don’t mind, snuggling right up to his side. He chuckles at your action, draping his arm around your hoodie-clad shoulders to pull you closer. “Got you a hot chocolate too, passed by the cafe across from the gift shop,” your crush gently places the drink in your hands.

“You really didn’t have to,” you mutter, hiding your smile behind the drink.

“Wanted to.” 

“Thanks,” you reply in between your tiny sips.

“Anything for you, Bubs.”

With his arm around you and your body cozied up to his side, the time passes quickly. You’re in your own world, your quiet conversations drowned out by the chatter of the large crowd surrounding the castle area. The cocoa is passed back and forth between his hand and yours, an indirect kiss shared each either of you takes a sip. You laugh over things that happened throughout the day, from Mark’s burnt tongue to all the hideous ride pictures your friends took while wholeheartedly enjoying themselves. 

When Mark takes a big sip, you crack an unexpected joke that leaves him choking on the drink. Your roaring laughter attracts the attention of the others around you but you are so into Mark, you don’t even notice.  He’s a sputtering mess, with the hot drink all over his cheeks and hands. You help him through it, one hand patting his back and the other reaching up to wipe away the liquid with his sleeve. 

“You’re so silly,” you whisper fondly as your thumb rubs against his soft cheek.

“No, you just caught me off guard,” Mark replies, nuzzling into your hand. The moment feels a little too intimate, especially when his fingers reach up to connect with yours, but you don’t want it to end. It finally feels like something good is happening. It feels like the dream you’ve kept deep in your heart is coming true and you don’t want to fight it. 

You pay no attention to the way your friends are staring knowingly at you like this was all meant to happen. Your eyes are solely trained on Mark and how he holds you so delicately as if you were a bubble about to burst. Mark keeps you tucked into him until the five-minute before the fireworks announcement blasts through the speakers. 

Mark is the first to get up off the blanket and you hate how easily he does so. The feeling of pins and needles travel down your legs as you try to get up. You moan in pain, struggling to get up. When you finally rise from the ground, your knees buckle and you lose your balance. A little noise slips out as you stumble, your clumsiness almost leading you straight into another person. Strong hands from behind immediately fly to your hips to keep you steady and you fall right back into Mark’s sturdy chest. 

His hands remain at your hips as you turn to look at him. You mumble an apology and he clutches your waist a little harder. “Who’s the silly one now, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Even as the moment ends, Mark’s hands stay in place. The only movement he makes is a minuscule tug that molds you into his chest. He hears no complaints from you, just a pleased little sigh, that signals you’re one hundred percent okay with what is happening. 

The surrounding lights dim, projections on the castle come alive, and music that could only be described as magical begins to play. It’s the scene of your dreams–you are in the hold of someone you love as fireworks light up the sky. The show’s just begun and here you are, wishing you can stay in this moment forever.

Seeing as how he’s made it this far, Mark puts on his bravest face and circles his arms around your waist. You hum in approval, resting your hands right above his. He replies by tangling his digits with yours and you smile so widely, it’s brighter than the pyrotechnics shooting off above you. 

The soundtrack isn’t new to you; it’s the show the park features every summertime, so you find yourself humming along to every section and transition that passes. By the time the love-themed section bleeds through the sound system and the castle glows with pinks and reds, you tell your best friend, “This is my favorite part.”

He says nothing in response, too busy admiring you instead of the show. Mark rests his chin on your shoulder, his gaze directed at the side of your face. He takes in the sight of the glow the lights cast on you, your lips curled up as you mouth each and every lyric.

It’s quite obvious that he’s staring at you. Even if you didn’t catch him from the corner of your eye, you feel Mark’s steady breath hit your neck and cheek. Your entire body radiates heat upon this realization. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to calm the hopeless romantic inside you. 

You want to look at him, you really do, but you’re scared of what will follow after you meet Mark’s eyes. But when he whispers about your favorite song playing, your heart swells at his great memory, and you turn. 

The tip of Mark’s nose grazes yours after your sudden movement. You’re right there, less than a breath away from him, and his eyes are filled with immense tenderness. In your years of knowing Mark Lee, you’ve never seen him look at another person the way he’s looking at you at this moment. It’s a look filled with endearment and affection, leaving your heart swelling in your chest. 

You barely hear the boom of the fireworks shooting off, not when Mark’s eyes flitter down to your parted lips. He’s captivated your heart and soul, you can’t help but nudge your nose against his as you inch closer. It’s a silent signal, one he understands without further explanation. Your best friend shuts his eyes, calls upon the glittery pixie dust that sits in his hair and makes his final wish of the night. He wishes for the strength to make his next move. 

Mark’s soft lips touch yours most delicately; the press is merely there, and it throws you for a loop. The kiss makes you so incredibly giddy, that you turn your head even more and your hand anchors itself to his cheek. It keeps you steady as he dives in for seconds, this one more eager than the first. With your favorite love song in the background and the fireworks booming in the distance, you are happier than ever.

You are so happy that your wide grin and little giggles cause Mark to break away for a short moment. He plants another peck amid your laughter and soon he’s chuckling too. The arms around your waist lock you in place as he burrows into the crook of your neck, placing the tiniest kiss where your pulse hammers against your skin. 

Mark’s feet are on the ground but he feels like he’s flying. His heart has grown wings, allowing him to soar to new heights. He feels like he can touch every little star in the sky. Kissing you in this land of make-believe, underneath the fireworks, feels like a miracle and he fears that he will never come down again.

He’s pretty sure the gleam in your eyes mirrors his own. It’s so pretty and bright and magical–it encompasses all the emotions stirring in his chest. They start from his heart, bubble up through his neck, and the words he’s been meaning to say spill out as a crescendo booms throughout the area. “You’re my wish come true.”

Turning in his hold, you circle your arms around his neck. You draw him closer, your lips ghosting against his to say, “And you are mine,” before closing the sentence with another kiss. 

You’ve always loved fairytale endings–how the prince always gets the princess at the end of the story. When he grins against your lips, you realize you’ve been in one the entire time. The story of you and Mark is more than a dream that filled your head. It’s more than something you wished upon a star for. Your story is the slowest burn that led to the greatest happy ending. 

All it needed was a little faith, trust, and a whole lot of pixie dust.

TAGLIST. (tagging my gen taglist and friends that I think will be interested in it hehehe) @winwintea @johtenrecs @lavendersuh @itsapapisongo @nctsworld @hotdogct @smileysuh @suhnnyskiess @jaemdonuts @haetrack @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky

FINAL PARK ANNOUNCEMENT. Hey everyone! Long time no post. I think the last time I posted a fic was in either December or January? I'm happy to be back for a hot second. This fic was inspired by many things: Mark calling his fans "his MJ," my personal visits to Disneyland over the years, and especially the trips I've gone on with friends that I've met on this site. Hehehe. I really hope you all enjoy this rainbow of magic and fluff. Please let me know what you think of it. Your feedback keeps me going! Love always, Nikki <3

© SEHUNNIEPOTWRITES, 2024

[norrisjpg]

motion sickness - ᴍᴠ¹

in which, max feels the affects of losing his best friend.

contains: unresolved conflict, implied depression, crying, swearing, mentions of jos verstappen (AH), max losing his home grand prix, social media, happy ending.

max verstappen x unnamed female character

...

...

it definitely wasn't for the better.

driving down a pretty hillside road with the windows rolled down, soft sobs left her lips as the familiar dutch scenery blurred past her peripheral vision.

daniel had persuaded her to attend the dutch grand prix, max's home race - at least she could see him happy here, right? she could tell herself he was better off without her and move on with her life. but, she couldn't help but be a little selfish and think about her wellbeing - it was safe to say she wasn't well at all.

she had met someone - tristan, his name was.

they'd met in a bar in monaco, when she'd been dragged out of her apartment by her friends to pull her out of her grumpy state - anyone would have thought that she had gone through a devastating break-up.

you know that greek myth about soulmates? how we were seperated into two humans from one with two heads, four arms, and four legs?

max never used to believe in soulmates - platonic or romantic - but he adamant that they were meant to be, so be it friends, or hopefully lovers - she was supposed to be his, he was supposed to be hers.

but he had ruined it.

she was currently on her way to the track - it was race day in zandvoort.

qualifying had gone well in her eyes, but she knew that max would be disappointed with himself. she couldn't bring herself to face him when he visited the RB garage to see daniel, so she spent some quality time with yuki and liam instead.

max missed her, so much. he missed her hugs, her smile, her laugh, just her in general. he missed their monday evenings together, now they were spend moping around in his monaco apartment - tortured by knowing that they were only a few blocks away from each other.

tristan was in monaco, daniel claiming he only had one paddock pass left when he'd asked for her to come to the race - he'd lied, of course.

you see, he had this master plan. well, it relied on one thing actually, that both wanted each other back - which he knew was very true for the (previously) best friends. daniel would get her to come to the red bull garage after the race - claiming to have some big news, forcing the pair to confront each other and finally realise how stupid they were.

she arrived at the track two hours before the race started, parking her hire car delicately into a space near the entrance.

"hey, where are you?" daniel asked her over the phone, as she walked through the entrance to the paddock and scanned her pass.

"just coming in now." she replied bluntly, nodding as if he could see her.

"okay, come to the garage, yeah?"

she hummed a quick response before hanging up, shoving her phone back into her bag. her cheeks were slightly tear-stained, her eyes were a little bloodshoot, and her lips were a tiny bit swollen.

max, on the other hand? he was a fucking wreck.

the past few weeks had been absolute hell for him - the car looked pretty shit, mclaren were super close to them in the constructors' championship, and lando was closing in on him in the drivers' championship too - essentiallly, his whole life had gone to crap now that she wasn't in it.

the weekend couldn't have gone worse, so he thought maybe this was the universe telling him to fix the worst mistake he'd ever made.

first of all, the car was a monster, and not in a good way. the tires dropped off so quickly, the grip was atrocious, and his balance was way off. the practice sessions had proved the new lack of pace on the car, it was just so difficult to drive. then, he had lost pole position to lando — why did it have to be him?

of course, max was happy for his good friend, but why him? lando was only a couple handfuls of points behind him, and he was closing in on max's fourth world championship hopes. why couldn't it have been perez or something? well, not that he was doing too well in the car either — in all honesty, max kind of just wanted daniel back as his teammate.

but either way, max wasn't starting first — so in his mind, he was a failure, and did his father let him know that too.

"what the fuck was that?" jos had yelled at him, inside the confinement of max's driver room. "you're three tenths behind lando!"

"i know, dad—"

"god, maybe you don't deserve the seat after all this."

you don't deserve the seat.

you don't deserve the seat.

you don't deserve the seat.

max didn't really hear anything his father was rambling on about after that — he sort of just zoned out, his mind becoming a blur of static noise and foggy disappointment.

he needed her.

he knew he needed her.

he hoped she needed him.

she needed him too, right?

they had been friends for what felt like forever — meeting at an awards ceremony when they were fifteen, exchanging numbers, and it sort of went from there.

and now there was just nothing.

max felt an emptiness he'd never imagined, like the other half of his heart had been strategically cut out and burnt at the stake. but there was nothing he could do about it — well that's what he thought, because max was completely unaware that daniel had invited her to the race weekend.

so, when he thought he watched her walk into the paddock, he told himself he was seeing things. and when he thought he heard her laughing with an RB mechanic, he told himself he was hearing things.

the race rolled around very quickly, and she decided to stay in the garage. headphones over her ears, she stood with heidi berger, watching intently as the formation lap occured.

she had the same old nervous feeling in her stomach, but this time it was a lot worse. the thought that something could happen to max always ate her alive during a race, but the fact that they were also on bad terms currently? she was being burnt at the stake.

...

+ 22.896s.

that was the gap to the lead.

max verstappen had finished a pit stop behind lando norris — in second place.

he got out of his car at parc ferme, trying his best to seem happy with second place, although not too happy because otherwise that would be another thing to add to the list of things his father would have a dig at him for.

max shook hands with a few red bull mechanics, and then headed off to do some post-race interview, lying about how he was okay with second place due to the car new and unimproved pace. the podium felt lonely, max's gaze searching for her in the swarm as he plastered on a fake smile and sprayed his home crowd with champagne - but she wasn't there.

it was on his way back that it happened.

his heart was already beating fast as it was, but the pace sky-rocketed when max's miserable gaze fell on a familiar figure.

there she was, in all her melancholy mood and misery. she was here. in zandvoort. she was real. it wasn't some delusion that he was experiencing, she was here, in front of him.

his feet gained a mind of their own, walking quickly toward her stilled figure, slightly wide-eyed and definitely staring at the dutchman. max might have well collapsed into her body.

his hands tentatively found her waist, holding it as his head fell to the crook of her neck. her hands instinctively went to the back of his head and body - it was almost an involuntary action.

"i'm sorry." max murmured. "so fucking sorry."

"i'm sorry." she replied quietly, ignoring the cameras snapping and clicking around him.

"missed you so much." his voice was at a mumble, scared of what her response would be.

"me too - too much."

then something came over him. he didn't know what it was, but he lifted his head quickly and pressed his lips to hers. it was the softest, most delicate thing max had ever done - he was so hesitant during the movements it was ridiculous.

her eyes widened briefly, before closing and melting into him. the kiss was reciprocated, of course, but it stayed pure and wholesome.

he broke away first, gazing down into her eyes with a mix of pure admiration and lust.

"we need to talk." she blurted quietly, receiving a nod from max, who hummed in response.

a minute or so later, max had discarded his media duties and had headed back to his driver room with her.

"i'm sorry." she began, but max abruptly cut her off.

"no, don't apologise, i pushed you away and i was horrible and i didn't mean any of it." he rambled. "i'm the one who needs to be sorry and i am, i am so fucking sorry. the past month has been fucking awful and i miss you so much and i need you back in my life and please i'm so sorry."

"max, max, max." she stopped the man from literally pacing up and down. "calm down, breathe."

"i'm so sorry." he repeated.

"i know, i know." she nodded softly, cupping his face. "and i forgive you. you were stressed and exhausted and i know you didn't mean it - okay?"

"really?" he furrowed his eyebrows gently.

"really." she responded with a small smile. "now, i'm sorry for letting you push me away, i'd usually stand my ground and make you talk to me, but... i didn't and i'm sorry for that."

"i was never mad at you anyway." he shrugged, a small smile appearing on his lips - a real smile, the first of the month. "i can't ever stay mad at you."

"good." she blinked up at him. "now, you kissed me."

"um. yeah. sorry about that- we can just forget it if you want?" he shrugged, a little nervous at what her response was going to be.

"i mean... if you want to forget it, we can." she replied quickly, nodding her head slowly. "but, well... forgive me, but i don't really... want to."

"thank god." he breathed out, leaning down to her and catching her lips in a delicate kiss.

"max." she murmured into his lips. "i like you."

"i love you too." he replied effortlessly, the words just rolled off of his tongue before he could even realise what he'd said.

"really?" she pulled away, hands resting on his jaw as she gazed up at him.

"um." he pursed his lips. "yeah, i do."

"i love you too." she softly responded, a small smile painted on her pretty features.

"again, thank god." he laughed slightly - the first real laugh he'd let out in a while.

and he kissed her again,

and again,

and again.

this was definitely for the better.

-

guess who's the big fat fuck back!

[buttercupblu]

SoftDom!Suguru

Geto Finds Your Fanfic X Reader|Birthday One-Shot

the deets: uh, oh...girl, your boyfriend found your smut 😶 w.c: 12.3k (look...it is what it is) tags: fem!reader, fanfic indulgence (reverse uno, reader is an ADDICT—SHOCKER), mention of smut which is so ironic, delulu reader has all her dreams come true with the dreamiest fucking boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, soft-dom power dynamic, clitoral and vaginal masturbation, spanking/impact, edging/orgasm denial, fingering, forced orgasm, mention of breath play, gagging and throat fucking, mention of wax play, rope/restraint play, overstimulation, use of vibrator, P in V, creampie, reader’s brain is scrambled as she’s fucked into oblivion and ‘space’ (if you know you know), and most importantly, 💗💗💗CONSENT AND AFTERCARE IS SEXYYY💗💗💗 angel’s note: i almost named this 50 Shades of Geto chat 🧍🏾‍♀️…|a SoftDom!Suguru inspo pic i came across while writing 🥴 earworm 🐛: Freak in You|PartyNextDoor [Hoe|Jhene Aiko in video header]

Is this really the life I'm living?

The stifled moans threatening to spill over your puffy lips say yes.

That's less noticeable than the sharp, cool air kissing your aching nipples, though. Cute, little buttons that make your boyfriend's dick jump when he thinks about pinching them.

But neither compare to the coarse feel of the rope wrapped around your dainty wrists—competing for your attention and burning into your skin the more you grappled with it. 

Remnants will be there for days, intricate lines of art that mark your body and make your slutty little mind smile.

But only fear lives in your eyes looking into Suguru's—his face smug but stern. 

A slight grin graces his lips as he raises his hand. “Eyes on me.” 

And you hold your breath, knowing that it’ll be 100 times worse if you look away, and wait for the—

Holy fucking coW, this is not a drill this is nOT A DRILL.

You squealed watching the mail truck drive off from the post you'd been stalking for hours—barely containing yourself from tearing the package to shreds the moment you had it in your hands after rushing back inside.

Weeks had gone by, WEEKS, waiting for this beauty so gracefully wrapped in a shimmery tulle. You delicately peeled it away and practically creamed yourself the second you pulled it from its satin bag.

It was finally in your hands, and you traced your fingers over the glossy cover and raised title, unable to believe you were finally witnessing it in all its glory. And God, that new book smell was like crack.

Isn't It Sweet?

You nodded and bit your lip, agreeing with one of your favorite authors of all time as you marveled at their latest limited-book release.

One of only 1000 copies.

You remember how shaky your hands were when you ordered it, having set 4 or 5 alarms to make sure you didn't miss out on the drop. But you probably should've won an award for the world's fastest order the way you secured the bag with the quickness. And after daydreaming about it for days, you wanted nothing more than to hug it into your chest like a newborn babe.

Anyone who knows you would agree and say you're an avid reader (as if your overflowing bookshelf isn't enough evidence.) Still, you would say you were maybe just slightly above average—only spending about 5 to 6 hours a day gluing your eyes to books and words. Fully immersing yourself in endless lives, worlds, and universes was nothing as long as the life was worth living. And you're no stranger to all kinds of genres.

The classics. Sci-Fy. Horror. Smut. Occasional non-fic and self-help because it pays to be well-rounded. Romance is often hit or miss, but it has its moments.

What?

Oh ya. That's right.

That said smut.

And oh baby, does it have its claws in you.

Especially when it comes to fanfic.

Are you the world's biggest nerd? Maybe not (that's a lie; you've cosplayed and been to a few conventions—you're too far in the trenches, beloved, and it's okay), but the second someone mentions anime, you almost break your neck to listen in. Waiting to see if your favs are mentioned.

With most of them, you come for the action, laughs, and often heartbreak. Your latest fav is a great example of all of the above and was taking the anime world by storm. The storyline and PTSD you get from watching it are part of the reason why, but truth be told, it's mostly because of the real gems you get if you stay. Gracing the screen from the first episode to the last.

Drop-dead gorgeous fictional daddies.

Being ate up around the world for being too good to be true. And there are more than enough of them to build a harem all wrapped up in a cute, gory little bow.

And you're the baddest of the down bad.

But you're not alone,

Oh dear love, very, very far from it.

The simps are everywhere. 

And you're the queen of Delulu Land, full of edits, cosplays, AUs, and art galore of anything you could ask for. And who could forget the stories?

Just the sheer amount of raw, raunchy, unsolicited smuttiness you get out of those is enough to make anyone sweat like a sinner in church. And you keep coming back for more.

It amazes you, the quality of content you get from those fandoms written by everyday people that even rival popular published works. But God, you can't even begin to imagine the sheer amount of batshit-crazy and unhinged energy it must take to think up and create such toe-curling filth.

Be there you were. Holding your second hardcopy fanfic that managed to make it off of the internet. About to shamelessly indulge your tastes once again. 

It didn't help that the cover was positively delish. It had a dark and mysterious air that you instantly recognized and made you feel a little funny. The infamous style belonged to one of your fav fanfic artists, and you couldn't believe the collab of your dreams was real.

Your bath was about to be one for the books, and you wanted to wait until you were simmering in the tub to open it, but you just had to get a sneak peek of the author's note at least.

You laughed, expecting nothing less as you read the gaggorific but true words. They're so unserious.

But this bath was about to be.

Rosy scents filled the bathroom as you lit a few candles and drew your bath, sprinkling salts and tiny petals into the bubbles.

Anyone on the outside looking in would think you were preparing for a date, and in a way, they would be right, but this solo ritual was routine anytime you got your hands on a good, smutty story.

Sighing, you sank into the cloud of bubbles, your muscles instantly relaxing in the hot, steamy water as you exhaled your cares away and let your head fall back against the fluffy body pillow.

The water felt amazing, and you could spend forever soaking in paradise, but slowly, your face began to warm. Not just because of the sweltering bath curling waves of steam around your body but also because of the heady thoughts that floated through your brain when you remembered why you were there. And so you pulled the caddy into the tub, your heart fluttering as you set up your book and dove in.

Fruity notes coated your tongue as you sipped a new wine between scenes, warming not just your tummy but also your coochie. Desire steadily building as you flipped through the pages, eyes soaking up the words as the scenes played in your head like you actually had the privilege of being a voyeur of such vulgar moments.

Your hand absent-mindedly drew small circles on your neck the more you imagined and read about your fav fictional daddy. Hearing his voice, trailing your finger down your chest as you envisioned his sharp, sultry eyes. That face he makes when he's being a big, tough, serious guy and somehow your hand ended up between your thighs, fingers lightly tapping your gradually pulsing clit.

And fuck were you jealous.

Your fav warned you about being in her bondage and restraint era, but the OC was going through it—manhandled and dealt with in a way that made your pussy throb until you couldn't take it anymore and slipped your fingers in to feed it.

Mewling, your fingers flexed inside you, feeling so warm inside your walls that ached so much you could feel a heartbeat when you dove in and out—moaning and working to sync with the story's vulgar pleasures.

But no matter how romantic the atmosphere was or how turned on and desperate for release you were, your dainty fingers, as cute as they were, were simply no match for the level of smut between those pages, and soon you found yourself drunk and pouting. Failing to properly reach those deliciously sweet spots inside you and leaving you unsatisfied and craving the only thing you knew could actually give you what you needed.

Your boyfriend.

And you knew if the day ever came when he did even a smidge of the things you'd seen in that book, you'd absolutely fall apart in his hands while blubbering ‘thank you’.

If only you weren't too chickenshit to just open your mouth and ask your angel of a boyfriend for it.

Suguru is such an, oh God—(insert animalistic noises)—you could eat that man for DAYS.

But truth be told, you weren't the usually overly confident bad bitch that made boys fall to their knees with Suguru. In fact, when you first saw him around, you were actually very intimidated.

Right off the bat, everything about him was different, way different.

His casual but cunty style screamed curated but careless when he walked around looking like he was fresh out of a Japanese street-style magazine. Often dressed in dark, baggy clothing that added to his mellow, mysterious aura—only to quietly flex on niggas by adding minimalistic but expensive layers of jewelry and accessories.

But what really made you weak the first time you saw them are the crown jewels that tie his look together—his piercings. The one in his eyebrow made it look sharper when he raised it, and whenever he tucked a strand of hair, you'd notice his cuff earrings fitting snugly on his cartilage that perfectly complimented his gauges. And—fuck—you could go on and on for days about how you constantly had to resist the urge to smash your lips onto his just to feel his snakebites.

You were doomed.

There he was, this tasty but nonchalant, cool guy. Reserved. Exclusive. And picky. 

Never ever ever in a million years did you think you could bag a walking piece of art like that. 

Don’t get it twisted; you are THEE shit and always the prize, but this time, it was less about looks and more about personality. And compared to Suguru? You were like a baby Powderpuff, sweet and bubbly, while he was a panther: sly, magnetic, and quick to ghost anyone who tried to get too close. 

Hot and impossibly hard to get. 

No wonder everyone wanted him.

Even without the competition, you were sure he probably had a thing for someone more his vibe, like big titty goth bitches, and you wouldn't blame him. Because sugar and spice just do not mix.

But fate had a funny way of humoring you, and one day you were unexpectedly thrown into each other's lives in a way that couldn't have been anything but the stars aligning.

The Panther and the Powderpuff.

Who knew you two would be a recipe for...perfection? And to your surprise, it was Suguru who latched on first, finding you simply addicting.

You were this vibrant, unapologetic good girl, sugary sweet and full of life, while he was this introverted yet magnetic loner, secretly craving someone to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Everyone else had been mere distractions, superficial, and a waste of his time.

But when the universe suddenly dropped you right into his lap, everything he thought he knew about loving someone changed.

The chemistry was undeniable and Suguru was selfish, wasting no time taking you off the market after only a few dates because the thought of you with anyone else made his stomach twist. But honestly, he had you hooked from, "Hello, my name is...", and ever since, you still find yourself unbelieving your luck—and the way he treats you.

From the unconditional princess treatment to every small or large sentiment you could wish for, Suguru does it all without hesitation. Knowing you deserve nothing less and leaving no room for anyone else to even try to compete. Often making you blush like a little schoolgirl who doesn't know what to do with herself because of his cool candor but loud love.

Leaving you gagged and absolutely feral for him.

But it was simple for Suguru. He never questioned his instinct or need to have you. He just knew what he wanted, what he needed. 

You. 

You stir something deep in him, and he’s simply a slave to that insatiable urge to care for you in ways only he can.

Your sweet, raven-hair simp—always waiting and ready for you to pepper his blissful face with kisses every time you love on each other. Leaving you with no doubts that he’s yours and you’re his.

And he constantly reminds you that he can and will match your freak as his hands never seem to be able to stay off of you just as much as you think about sinking your claws into him.  

You practically jumped at any opportunity to have your way and slut out that man in all his panty-dropping glory—when he let you—but you firmly drew the line at vanilla.

In a perfect world, you could live freely as the truly unhinged and slutty succubus you were and let this man dictate your every waking moment, conscious thought, body, and soul however he pleased, just like many of the books you obsess over. 

But you couldn’t risk scaring off your dream man with your Freak-a-leek fantasies. 

You had to be quiet with it. 

There was no way Suguru would be into that stuff.

Besides, it’s not like you were missing much. 

Suguru and Satisfaction go hand-in-hand, and your oh-so-thoughtful boyfriend is damn-near dedicated to making sure you spend your nights repeatedly moaning his name. Whether it’s by slurping you up with his tongue just for a taste or slow-stroking your insides until you soak the sheets before fighting over who's sleeping in it. Naturally reading your body with ease and filling you to the brim with butterflies until you claw his back then milk him dry. 

But every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder…what would happen if one day he just happened to tap into that subtle but smug big dick energy and took the reins?

Alas, you’d rather sneak away every blue moon and submerge in the depths of smut than confess. Settled and content with getting your fix when you could, but that night, you found yourself growing more frustrated the longer you tried.

No matter how hard you concretrated, no matter how detailed and lewd the images and sounds were in your head, you were hell-bent on shooting stars into your eyes with every trick you knew in the book yet failing to bring yourself rapture with such feeble fingers. 

Eventually, with a final but not yet defeated groan, you decided to stop toying with yourself and return to Earth. Slightly disappointed but relishing in the fact that you always had access to the ultimate trump card, no matter how your smutty escapades went. You might not get to play 9 and ½ Weeks with your boyfriend, but he always guaranteed to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you and give you everything you need anytime you get all dolled up for him.

Your hand glided down your silky thighs, feeling like butter as you caressed them. You nodded. Mhmm, you were gonna get tore up tonight.

You finished your bath and dressed your body in your favorite lotion and serum combo before slipping into the silky lingerie Suguru randomly bought you a few weeks ago. Now, all that was left to do was wait for him to get home and peel it off.

He’d been out most of the afternoon hanging with the guys while you did a few chores and stalked your mailbox. Suguru said it was supposed to be chill, but with the sun setting soon and knowing that Satoru was invited and without a doubt responsible for why Suguru was still not home, nine times out of ten, they ended up playing basketball. 

Your boyfriend is already pretty active, but anytime Satoru comes around, he gets turned up times ten and things get real competitive, real fast. Almost always against Sugu’s will, but he’d rather entertain Toru to make him shut up and eat his words than back down. And like a good girlfriend who knows all of her boyfriend’s dumb little weaknesses, you were exactly right.  

You missed the sound of his umbrella when he came through the front door, smoothing back his hair from the rain you didn’t hear while in the bath.

“I’m home, Love,” he calls out, and his gentle yet sultry voice paired with your pet name always makes you blush.

His natural scent was the first thing to hit your nose when he entered the bedroom, mingling with the wine steadily warming your body. Expecting you to nearly tackle him with a hug as you usually do after hours of being apart, he braced himself, but when he found you poised on the bed, relaxed and waiting for him, his mouth dropped, his heart steadily racing once again even though he was sure he burned through his adrenaline playing basketball. 

You looked downright delectable.

“Hi, baby,” you laughed, smiling at his expression as you crawled towards him. The silky fabric draped in soft folds over your body, shifting and riding up just enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin as you moved—clinging to your curves like a second skin. Everywhere he wanted his hands to be. 

Imagining you in it when he picked it out was one thing, but seeing you in it, right in front of him, well fuck—you looked so perfect now, he’d probably die seeing it around your ankles later.  

He drew a breath, unable to believe his luck or imagine a better view than the one of looking up at him with doe eyes while on your hands and knees. Just for him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the soft blend of rose and vanilla flooding his senses as you pulled your body close before realizing he was soaking wet.

“Ahh! Babe!” You jumped back. “You’re wet.” But his warm hands had already settled on your waist, firmly holding you in place. He smirked, stealing a quick peck, and the familiar tease of his lips soon made you forget all about how cold and drenched he was as you melted into his touch, his lips making you more and more needy every time they met yours. 

He smiled against your lips, noticing you were more excitable than usual as you deepened the kiss, your heartbeat thudding against his chest as you pressed closer.

“You’re going to *peck* ruin your lingerie, Pretty,” he teased. But you clearly didn’t care, and he softly chuckled, having to reel it in for the both of you as he gently pulled away. “Let me hop in the shower first, ya?”

But when he looked into your puppy-dog eyes as you knelt before him, the thought of walking away felt nearly impossible. You wore that little frown and plea in your eyes that silently begged him not to leave, and any other time, he’d give right in. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, sending warm tingles to your tummy and making it just a bit easier for both of you. Your patience recharged, you perked up and switched gears, asking about his day as he settled in.

He casually shrugged, saying everything was cool. Yu had called him, Toru, and Kento over to try out the latest 2K game, and though Toru was always down to hang, he spent the entire time groaning because, surprise, surprise, he was awfully bad at it—no matter which version he played. After losing one too many 1v1s to Suguru and the others, he let his butt-hurt ego get the best of him and suggested they ditch the “baby game” and play some real basketball.

Suguru knew it was just a cop-out for Toru sucking, but he also knew Toru wouldn’t stop whining until he got a chance to redeem himself. At least the day was nice enough for Suguru to humor him—until their Opp, Toji, showed up trying to start shit and ruin a good time as per usual. Lucky for him, the rain came in out of nowhere and cleared everyone out just before the gang could pop off, and blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff. 

Suguru sounds so lovely when he talks, but you were only half-listening, completely mesmerized as he pulled his sopping, wet shirt over his head and revealed his toned body and tats.

No one would ever guess that his chest and sides of his torso were inked unless he showed you. The intricate dragon tattoo weaved across his shoulders and down the full sleeve of his arms, but that was the only evidence that he’d taken a needle to his skin. It’s like a special little surprise reserved only for those he wants to see, and you never get tired of drooling over it—or him, watching him shyly smile as he noticed your gaze and gave you a playful wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sank into the bed with a pout but managed to distract yourself as he showered. Suguru loves a long, hot one, and he definitely took his sweet time that night. You figured he deserved it after such a hectic evening and told yourself that the wait to quell your fire was just a little bit longer. 

But your impatience would cost you, as you failed to notice that in your haste to get ready for Pound Town, you’d forgotten to do something very important. 

Suguru came out whistling, a cloud of steam pouring into the bedroom as he stepped through, a towel wrapped low on his hips. His long, slightly towel-dried hair clung to his face in cute, messy stands, and he shot you a soft, knowing smile as he crossed the room. You were so adorable, waiting on him like a pup, shamelessly following his every movement with your gaze.

He laughed, “You look comfy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you pouted. “You were in there forever.”

Suguru grinned, reaching for the towel draped around his neck. “Yeah? I guess I got a bit distracted.” He moved toward the dresser, lazily pulling it open. “Did you have a good day?” 

Suppressing the urge to be frank, you nodded. If only he knew. “It was okay. Nothing special.”

“Oh, real?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re in such a good mood, though. Didn’t get into anything exciting?”

Just failed to get off to one of the smuttiest fics ever written. 

“Nope,” you quickly replied, chewing on your bottom lip. As thoughtful as it was for Suguru to be a loving boyfriend and ask you about your day, you wished he’d chat less and fuck your brains out more. Fuck the clothes, fuck the pleasantries. And it was painfully obvious by the way his sharp, purple eyes took in your antsy body.

Suguru pulled out some clothes, his lips curving into a smile. “You seem a little…eager tonight. Did my girl miss me?” But he didn’t really need to ask. He knew that you were practically in heat and only added flames to the fire, casually throwing on his favorite PJs that hung loosely around his v-section before slipping on a black wife-beater that hugged his torso(I know, that's a CRAZY name for an article of clothing).

Your coochie clenched—Yes God, YESYES STOP THE TORTURE!—silently screaming for him to just stop teasing and give you what you wanted before you exploded, but all you could manage was a whimper and frantic nod, knowing you were just seconds away from showing him exactly how much you did.

Suguru’s smile deepened watching you struggle, amusement dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards you. “How ‘bout we burn off some of that energy then, hmm?” His weight sank into the mattress as he crawled onto the bed, closing the space between you and softly pecking your lips with every word. “With. A. Game.”

But the way heat flared in your chest as you helplessly fell under his kiss, you didn’t know if you could handle whatever his mischievous little mind was thinking. Still, you felt your body betray you, naturally unable to resist him and growing curious—no, needing—to do just about anything he asked if it meant he would continue kissing butterflies into you. 

With heavy-lidded eyes, you asked what game, growing breathy as you imagined every raunchy couple’s game you could think of. But your anticipation quickly turned to confusion, your thoughts falling incredibly short when you felt him pull something from behind his back.

“Let’s read something new tonight,” he grinned. And you damn near went into cardiac arrest. 

With your mind solely focused on getting your hands on your boyfriend, you had completely forgotten about your book, leaving it in the bathroom to be discovered by Suguru the moment he stepped inside. 

And, oh baby, was it insightful.

You gaped, too stunned to speak as he pulled you toward the end of the bed. He settled on the bench and patted his lap, inviting you to sit, but you were frozen in place, absolutely mortified and refusing to believe this was real life.

You were caught, your mind filling with millions of thoughts all wondering how the hell your own carelessness after months of being “careful” ended up outing you, and it took him firmly calling you again before you finally found the courage to move, your brows furrowing as reality hit you. 

Now your boyfriend definitely knew how much of a menace you were—one of those Godforsaken BOOKTOK GIRLIES, of all things—and should’ve been running for the hills.

But he only looked at you lovingly, gently guiding you into his lap and making sure you were comfortable before his arms settled around you. Clearing his throat, he held the book in front of you, “I’ll start,” and he began where you left off—on one of the smuttiest scenes in the story. 

“Taichi had seen what your mouth could do.” Oh no. “Never failing to rightfully command everyone’s attention before you cleared a room with just your words. Now, his thumb softly traced over those same desirable lips that held so much power, his cock jumping at the idea of them wrapped around it.” 

Holy shit. 

Reading it was one thing, but being forced to hear from the last person you’d expect in the most naturally seductive voice imaginable was absolutely killing you in more ways than one. Especially when he was leaning right into your ear, his chin softly resting on your shoulder as if he were reading you a lullaby. 

Heat flooded your face, but Suguru’s voice was steady and calm—completely unbothered as if he weren’t reading about your smuttiest innermost fantasies and making your embarrassment skyrocket. You felt so vulnerable and exposed and dirty and like you couldn’t get enough air and fuck—you didn’t know what Suguru was trying to prove or if this was his wicked way of trying to embarrass you before breaking up with you, but the torture was too much, and you had to get out of there.

Panicking, you tried to get up, but no-no—he wasn’t about to let you slip away from storytime that easily, and his arm snaked around your waist, securing you against him with a gentle but unyielding grip before his legs quickly wrapped around yours and locked you in place. You gasped in disbelief, your heart skipping a beat when your thighs effortlessly parted and exposed your pretty, clothed pussy.

Helpless whines escaped you, and he tsked, smiling at your sudden innocence. Like you couldn’t believe this was really happening. Like you couldn’t believe that the same filth you craved, obsessed, and dreamt over was now spilling from your boyfriend’s pretty mouth, sounding like a limited-edition audiobook Fanfic girlies could only dream of. And if you thought there was no possible way to make the situation worse than it already was, Suguru decided to take things up a notch and bring the book to life.

His lips lightly brushed your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin as he nuzzled your neck and inhaled your scent. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck, he stole a breath from your lungs when he nipped your ear. Perfectly mimicking the story’s peak and leaving you completely at his mercy as the lines between fantasy and reality blurred.

His hand around your waist trailed across your stomach with a deliberate slowness, lightly traveling down until he grasped your inner thighs, knowing this was one of your most sensitive spots and drawing possessive lines that made your clit begin to tingle and swell through your panties.

Inching closer and closer, the sly smile in his voice grew, and your breath grew shallower until it hitched, sparks igniting when he ghosted over your clit. Your thighs trembled, but his voice remained smooth and unwavering.

Suguru noticed a twisted sense of satisfaction growing within as he felt you squirm, simultaneously struggling to close your legs even though you throbbed like crazy for more—caught between sheer embarrassment and undeniable arousal. Not knowing which to give in to.

He pressed his cheek to yours. “You’re so cute when you blush,” he murmured, becoming distracted by your reactions as he poured out endless praise—so flustered, so sickenly distraught and overwhelmed, but it only made him smile.

You always get so shy when he compliments you. His usually confident girl easily coming undone with only a few soft words and a glint in his eyes. And he loved it—the way you always tried to pretend you weren’t seconds away from completely unraveling when he flirted.

He hummed thoughtfully, wondering how long you could keep it up this time. And what it would take for you to fold.

“Finish up for me, pretty girl,” he decided, and handing you the book, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties and brushed your soaking folds.

You stiffened, the sudden warmth snatching your breath and making it impossible to get a single sentence or objection out. 

“C’mon baby,” he kissed your shoulder, fingers stilling right on your clit. “You have such a pretty voice.” 

The fucking Devil.

You let out a shaky moan, not knowing whether you hated or still loved him in that moment, but either way, you sure as hell weren’t going to let him see you crack, and you drew a breath.

Clearing your throat, you swallowed thicky and mustered up the steadiest voice you could to prove you wouldn’t just be a victim of this wicked game of his. And you were doing so well, for a sentence or two. Until his slick fingers started to call your bluff and gradually began to draw slow, precise circles right on your swollen bud. 

And God help you, you couldn't stop the stutter.

“Sm-smeared mas-sc-scara ran hah down y-your f-face.” You paused and closed your eyes, wetting your lips before continuing. “You’d p-pay for your ah used and…and b-br-bruised t-throat in the morning bUT,” you yelped when he squeezed your waist. “It-it was a small price to p-pay to taste a c-cock sss-so d-delish.” 

Suguru chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. But it wasn’t enough. 

He needed to see you completely fall apart. 

His free hand glided upward and fondled your breast, his thumb taunting and brushing over your nipple. You instinctively arched into his touch, a series of soft whimpers escaping your lips as he rolled them between his fingers until they were sensitive and hard. 

Your body couldn't decide which overwhelming sensation to focus on—the weight of his fingers just sitting and taunting your clit or the jolts of pleasure running to your core with each pinch of your nipple. Both sent messy moans tumbling out of your mouth. 

He grinned against your shoulder. “You’re so responsive tonight,” he said, adding to the heady mix of lust and frustration. Building you up and bringing you down in a vicious cycle as every time you crept closer and closer to losing it, he was quick to slow and remind you to keep going.

But your thighs kept quaking and your breath kept hitching and you could only squirm so much trying to rock into his touch and steal Heaven, but his fingers were light and easily kept you right on the edge. Touching only your clit and leaving you distraught as your poor, neglected walls began to ache. 

But your desperation was too loud to ignore, and knowing you wouldn’t give up, he smirked—like boyfriend, like girlfriend—and he nipped your ear, pulling back the hood of your clit before he strummed his fingers over it. Fast. “Go for it,” Suguru whispered. 

And fuck, it took all of 2 seconds for your legs to become a vibrating mess and made him wrap his tighter, your breath going light as you rose up on your toes. 

Whimpering. 

Heart racing.

Eyes drawing closed as you mentally sang his praises for allowing you to finally cum. Walking you to the line of release and rapture with every flick of your hot clit and every breath on your skin right up until he stopped.

You let out a defeated scoff.

You weren’t getting off that easy.  

He pulled the long-forgotten book from your hands, and you yelped, suddenly being lifted and bent over his knee. He gave you a second to adjust, then secured you with an arm around your waist, rolling up the hem of your dress before his heavy palm settled on your ass, fingers languidly massaging your cheeks.

You felt so plush as he caressed your skin, gripping you lovingly between his fingers before he delivered a heavy slap.

“Why’d you keep this from me?”

A shriek died in your throat, a million things instantly flying through your head. Shock from this stranger you called a boyfriend, how you ended up here, how no one could’ve ever convinced you that this situation only found in books and on the internet would actually happen to you. 

Endless things to think about but nothing to say.

“Oh, we’re being shy now?” Any other time, you would spend hours yapping Suguru’s ears off about one thing or another and he’d dote on every word. But now they were escaping you. 

*SLAP!*

And he gripped your cheek to soothe the sting, fingers running over the raised marks the rings he never takes off left on your skin.

He hummed, eyeing the soaked patch on your panties, biting his lip seeing you’d gotten even wetter since he bent you over his knee.

His fingers couldn’t resist gently dragging over your clothed folds, just light enough that it felt like a ghost and made you shudder. You pushed back, trying to chase it, your mind borderline broken and desperate to quench your insatiable thirst, but found it impossible to move. 

“Let’s try this again.” And he delivered a slap even harsher than the last, making you squirm under his tight grip. 

Obviously, you hadn’t learned your lesson from earlier, and when you tried to get away, Suguru swiftly pinned your arms behind your back and didn’t skip a beat, landing another series of slaps on the same spot since you wanted to be so damn difficult. 

You knew you couldn’t escape but neither would your words, silent screams building up as you just had to lie there and take it. Emotional turmoil churned within, leaving you questioning everything you thought you knew about Suguru who was promptly lighting your ass up. Bringing to life each hot sting that you’ve fantasized about in stories, on TV, and in the dirty thoughts of your boyfriend maybe one day warming up to the idea—but not like this. This was so sudden. Too much. So overwhelming to the point that nothing came out of you but feeble whines and stuttering breaths until you were on the verge of tears when “I’m sorry!” finally slipped from your defeated lips.

Suguru froze. 

His heart thumped. 

And in the span of a few seconds, Suguru learned a few things about himself. 

1. He hadn’t expected himself to be able to break you so quickly. You’re as tough as he is, hell, even tougher sometimes, and only admit defeat when you absolutely cannot fight anymore. 

2. He hadn’t expected to fall head over heels in love with the sound of your cries and heavy breaths as you tried to gather yourself. 

Knowing he was the cause and this was the effect of you being worn out and surrendering made his dick thump against your stomach. 

He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your flushed cheeks.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok,” he shushed, and you felt so pitiful yet turned on that you could cry. But as much as he wanted to relish in your punishment for keeping secrets, he also needed to reveal one of his own. “Because I’ve known for a while.”

“You wHAT?” Your voice cracked. If you could look him in the eyes, you would just so he could see how utterly flabbergasted you were because there was no freaking way. “How??”

“C’mon babe,” he snickered, “You watch DevilBoy Games, a lot, and Toru told me how you DBG girls are, I’ve seen you drool over that crazy guy with bags under his eyes.”

“He’s not crazy,” you huffed, “Just misunderstood.”

He laughed, lightly squeezing your thigh. “He kinda looks like me.” 

“Get over yourself.” And you’d cross your arms if he weren’t still holding them.

He tsked. “Are you really surprised, love?” he asked, smirking before completely reading you, mentioning that there was no way you thought he wouldn’t notice the nights when you would stay up late, blushing at your phone. 

Never once wondering if you were talking to some other guy or anyone else, but putting two and two together pretty early on when you said you were having reading time on your favorite social platform known for its…content. Scrolling the site for hours just to soak up pure filth. 

As secretive as you tried to seem about it, the obsession never stopped you from being bold enough to do it in bed.

Suguru pouted. “So, you don’t like me enough or what?” he asked, his tone teasing yet laced with genuine curiosity. He often wondered why you didn’t just say anything—how you could be so close to him and dive into your fantasies but not act on them. 

Your face instantly heated. “It’s not…it’s not like that at all!” you stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I just—it’s different, okay?”

He cocked his head. "Different how?"

“I don’t know I…–I honestly didn’t think you’d be into that stuff,” you admitted, feeling more vulnerable than ever and even a little guilty. You deflated. “I thought you’d think I was weird.”

"My baby? Weird?” He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "That can’t be it.” And he leaned close. “Or maybe you just thought I couldn't handle it," and his eyes gleamed.

Your stomach dropped, eyes going wide as you were once again left shocked and speechless. But Suguru let go of your arms, satisfied enough with your confession and ready to play now, for real.

Your pussy practically swallowed your drenched panties that clung to you as he pulled them to the side, the cool air kissing your folds before you felt his warm fingers swirl over your glistening vulva.

He smiled—you were so sensitive—bucking at the languid strokes as he gathered your slick. He’s always been gifted with his fingers and quick to make you fall apart from the slightest touch.

He bit his lip, unable to resist lightly dipping his fingertips in just to bring them to his mouth and give you a taste.

“So fucking good.” He could play with you forever. Licking his lips, he parted yours, transfixed on your walls that clenched around nothing. Desperate to take his fingers that teased desperate whines out of you. 

“You gonna keep any more secrets from me, baby?” 

You shook your head, desperate to do or say whatever, which Suguru knew, but he needed you to mean it. 

He’d been edging you for almost half an hour now and his own dick was just as strained and blue-balled as your pussy, but he could and would hold out as long as he had to to make sure you’d never feel ashamed enough to hide any parts of you ever again. He just needed to hear the words, and he dipped just the tip of his finger inside you. “Say it.” 

“I promise, Sugu, never again,” you pleaded, your voice shaking. "I’ll never keep anything from you again, just please, I—” you almost choked. "I need you so badly.”

The words spilled out you, sounding so pretty when you begged. And when he finally believed you, your mouth fell open, but nothing came out—a breath catching in your throat and eyes fluttering at that familiar stretch as he slowly pushed in. Walls finally sucking in the fingers they’d been so hungry for.

You could’ve came right then. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. You felt like home. 

Your spongey walls squished and pulsed around him like a heartbeat, his fingers sinking in slow until you drew a sharp breath, your leg twitching.

Right there, he smiled, almost instantly finding that gushy spot of yours that makes you see white. 

He whistled—this mouth-watering position not only gave him an immaculate view of your ass he wanted to sink his teeth into but also let his peace fingers perfectly angle and beckon your gspot. 

His other hand slowly spread you wide, and he cooed, marveling at how easy he slid in and out, his fingers hooking with each dip as he took advantage of the easy access and sent sparks to your toes.

Your teeth tugged at your lip, brows drawing together. He was pushing so sinfully into you, his fingers flowing like waves with the full intent to draw your orgasm out of you as he’d done millions of times before. Always leaving you breathless, heady, and unbelieving how natural it was for him to bring you to absolute shambles.

His pace was agonizingly slow, plunging in and out with a deliberate rhythm that had you trembling and your lip sore from biting and stifling your pathetic moans. His dick painfully throbbed against your stomach, the heat of it branding your skin with each ragged breath you took trying to contain yourself.

After keeping you on the edge for so long without mercy, he was about to send you plummeting into the deep end, his own restraint slipping with every passing second as his pace gradually increased, your slick beginning to pool around his fingers when you felt your orgasm coming on. 

Your muscles tightened around him as he pushed you towards your peak, the sound of his fingers fucking into you rivaling macaroni but had to battle your fat mouth spilling out moans like a starving slut. 

“Ssh ssh ssh.” His hand slipped over your mouth. “I wanna hear her, she sounds so pretty.” And without restraint, the squelches of your pussy fucked the air, your drool slipping through his fingers and dripping down the side of your mouth. And just as you felt time slowing, he quickly swapped fingers, his middle and ring fingers angling down and furiously hitting that blinding spot that sent your eyes rolling.

Forgetting how to breathe, your cherry-O raced around the corner, aiming to crash right into you. Slowly, you began to arch your back into his hand, core tightening. And when you drew a deep breath, eyes screwing shut as you held it, his voice was deep and low to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, let it out.” And he racked his fingers until the pressure of your orgasm burst open.

"ohoHfuckfuCKFUCK SUGUSUGUSUGUOHMYGODIMCUMMING!" You clutched his calf and toppled over, your fluids spilling around his fingers and down your thighs, making a complete mess on his pants.

“Gooood girl, just like that,” he said almost desperately, biting down on his lip to stifle his own moans, but his fingers didn’t slow down, jiggling into you until you were writhing and begging for relief. He just had to make sure he got it all out, his silky fingers swimming deep into your sopping and noisy pussy until he wrung out all your shudders then slowed until your breaths somewhat returned to normal.  

You came down, releasing your grip on him, your calves sore and aching from being on your toes.

Suguru smirked and licked his fingers clean, impressed by the sight of you lifelessly hanging over his legs: pathetic, spent, and cute.

After a moment of just holding you, he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your slightly reddened cheek before giving you an unexpected but quick lick of your pussy that made you twitch.

Yup, good and sensitive, just like he liked it.

Gently rubbing your back, he hummed. “Is my little slut satisfied?”

“Suguru!” Un uh—now he was calling you names?? You barely managed to open your eyes, still in a daze as you tried to look at him.

“What?” he shrugged. “Just making sure…the author said you wouldn’t be,” he cocked a brow with a playful smile. “...Right?”

…the godforsaken author’s note. 

“For all my sluts who’d rather be fucked by fictional men than real ones.“

You ran your limp noodle of a hand over your face and groaned. Just when you thought the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, your fave author doubled back and helped you stumble into more trouble.

But Suguru wasn’t offended, not even a little bit. If anything, he looked amused, a slight smirk gracing his lips with a flicker of something else in his eyes. 

He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this and bided his time. Now, every little secret and hidden desire you thought you’d keep forever buried in those books was out in the open and his for the taking—and he was ready to tear them apart.

“Suguru, I—” 

“It’s ok,” he shushed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he tenderly cupped your face. But the hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you saw that sly grin spread across his face before he said, “We’ll see about that.”

Things were a bit…different..after that night. 

It wasn’t something either of you discussed outright, but there was definitely a shift—an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air between you.

At first, it was like you were meeting for the first time all over again, and you slipped back into that shy, uncertain girl you were when Suguru first came into your life. Every knowing look he gave you, every slight touch, had you blushing, anticipating. As if you, once again, had no idea how to handle him—or how he would handle you. 

He was slowly unveiling the quiet power you never knew or expected him to possess. And he was making sure you wouldn’t dismiss it again.

Now, it was you who hesitated before speaking, nervously fiddling with your fingers any time he asked you something even slightly suggestive before your eyes would dart away in embarrassment—not knowing that Suguru was absolutely loving this budding dynamic. 

He would tease but never pushed too hard because he was patient. Always patient and watching with that soft, amused smile anytime you fumbled for words or tried to play off how flustered you were. Gradually coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend—the same one who always gave you a gentle look and treated you like you were more than precious—was more than willing to cater to and control you until you creamed and cried. 

But honestly, not much had changed for Suguru. He still carried that same calm, subtle soft-dom energy that had always drawn you in—now there was just a label for it.

But there was a subtle shift in the way he handled you, like a quiet reminder that he knew you now—all of you. And he made one thing clear and made sure you understood it—closed mouths don’t get fed—and it was a lesson you had to learn quickly, especially after you promised not to keep any more secrets. And whenever you’d shy away or fall into your usual silence, Suguru would tilt your chin and hold your gaze with those piercing, violet eyes. “Use your words, Pretty,” he’d say, and your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you’d still push through because you knew he was right. 

So you stayed true to your word and began looking for all the ways you could experiment and get what you wanted…in the only way a little gremlin like you could…by getting him riled up. And for a minute, he would just take it on the chin. But then he discovered breath play. 

You were really getting on his nerves one day.  

But you felt like you would actually die if he left you to hang with the boys when something in you was practically begging you to crawl into his skin. He was about to leave out wearing your favorite hoodie of his too, the one that's slightly cropped and hangs just above his midriff, and you sulked because you knew that any thirsty bitch in the vicinity would try to be on him like white on rice even when Suguru never paid them any mind. 

Besides, he had already fucked you silly that morning and had been pampering you with kisses all afternoon, so he didn’t understand why you were being so clingy. 

But you were craving something else. A bit of something to eat.

And instead of just telling him that you wanted his dick down your throat and past your tonsils, you decided to block the front door, cross-armed, scowling, and staring at the appetizing outline on his basketball shorts. Jealous that they got to hold his heavy balls all day instead of you.

His fingers snapped, “Babe,” the sound pulling you out of your silent tantrum and making you look at him with wanting eyes. “What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. 

But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it, so you deepened your silent pout until he pinched his nose and sighed.

“Then move,” he started, stepping closer, but you shook your head and widened your stance like a toddler.

A smirk played on his lips as he loomed over you, taking in your pettiness before his hand thudded next to your head.

You jumped, but your defiance didn’t waver, your eyes lifting to meet his. His smug expression only deepened as he shifted, the heat of his coveted dick pressing against your thigh in a way that made your breath hitch.  

“Move,” he repeated, but you just pressed your lips tighter, your eyes challenging him. 

His other hand slid up, fingers gently curling around your neck and thumb brushing over your pulse. "We doing this again?" he asked, low and laced with threat.

What could you say? Old habits die hard. 

But he knew what you wanted. The way you thickly swallowed and wet your lips, eyes darting to the growing tent between you, spoke volumes even when you wouldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, and before you knew it, your knees were hitting the ground, his hand settling on your head and making you slink to the floor. He tilted your chin. “Open that pretty mouth since you don’t want to use it.”

And at his gruff command, your tongue lolled out, unapologetically.

He tsked, tucking his lip under his teeth at your display. 

You’re the most difficultly-easy person he knows next to Satoru, quick to make the simplest things complicated sometimes, and this time, he was going to give you exactly what you were asking for, but not without reprimand. 

His thumb landed on your pink tongue, pressing and holding your gaze.

“You want it?” You caught a subtle thump, and he palmed his shorts. “Oi, up here” He held your jaw, cocking his brow.

His smirk was devilish, a knowing glint in his eye watching you grow needier by the second—unable to focus on anything but the desperate need for him to turn your throat into a daycare. 

Tongue trapped under his thumb, you finally answered him in the only way you knew how, and he watched with parted lips as yours closed around his finger with an eager nod. 

You were going to be the death of him.

With a tug of his shorts, your fat reward sprang forth, almost brushing the tip of your nose—already leaking stringy globs of precum for giving him such a hard time.

Your eyes sparkled. Suguru has such a pretty dick. One of the prettiest you’ve ever seen that’s girthy, long, and perfectly made for your greedy throat. 

It was heavy on your tongue as he tapped it, teasing your palate and holding it out for you to give it a taste.

Less was said, and you gladly accepted your meal, the taste of him coating your tongue as you swirled around the tip before sucking it into your mouth.  

Suguru’s knees almost buckled as you lapped at him like ice cream, your tongue tracing up and down his shaft before placing gentle kisses under his tip. His face went warm, his fingers threading through your hair as he fought to maintain control. “Don’t—ngh—tease. Suck it—mmph—properly.” And with a firm press to your bottom lip, he coaxed your mouth open before pushing in and filling it completely. 

You gagged, and a deep exhale left his lips feeling your warm mouth finally wrap around him, your eyes watering as the weight of his dick fully seated on your tongue and made your lips stretch to savor every inch.

“That’s it—mphm—take it all.”

His hips automatically moved at the feel of your throat, his head softly falling back feeling you relax and hum around him. He couldn’t help but gently thrust, his spongy tip kissing the back of your throat and making you blink back tears as he tested your limits. And you only made it harder for him to hold back with the way you ate him up like candy. 

Even though head is a game, you never play. All day, you’d been torturing yourself, once again denying yourself of your insistent need to swallow his kids in the name of shame, but once the reins were off, you wasted no time satisfying your craving—knowing exactly how to get Suguru to blow his load.

And fuck was it a losing battle for him to try to keep the tendrils of his orgasm at bay while also trying to remember that he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

As he said, closed mouths don’t get fed, and he started pulling away with a satisfying ‘pop’ every time you got too greedy. Rubbing his dick over your lips with a grin before snaking back in and taking you further and further down each time. 

He groaned watching you take him, your eyes meeting as you looked up. The new cut in his brow made them look even sexier when he bunched them, complementing the low and husky look in his eyes you’d never seen before you sent them rolling when he wrapped your hair around his fist and pushed in to the base.

“Hah.” His breath hitched as you swallowed. Once. Twice. Holding you down a sec before he pulled out with an exhale. And as he watched your heavy breaths, struggling to collect yourself but looking up at him with a starry-eyed but fucked out gaze, he got an idea. 

“Why do you act so innocent all the time?” he huffed, pushing back in. “Look at you,” his thumb stretched your lips, “Choking on my dick and loving it.” Always the innocent ones, he thinks, full of frills and freaks. 

And you couldn’t deny how the slow and lewd way he fucked your throat made your pussy drip like a waterfall, uring you to rub fast circles across your throbbing clit, but he knew you would try. 

You were a cock-drunk slut, after all, always getting off when he stretched, used, and abused your throat to his satisfaction, so he knew he would have to lock your hands away to keep your mouth open and you focused since you wanted to taste him so badly.

Still fucking your throat, he said, “Take a breath, baby,” and soon after, you gagged when he leaned over you. “Hold it,” and he pulled the string from his hoodie and began counting. “One, two, three.” Bringing a flood of tears to your fluttering eyes as he sank deep into your throat and tied your wrists behind your back.

Air. God, what is air?? Your lungs screamed for it, stomach tight, but your pussy clenched so sinfully tight from the lack of it. 

You didn’t know it then, but this was an accidental deep dive into something you’d both come to love. The control, the discipline, the trust. The skill you had to possess as a certified throat goat. And most of all, the uncertainty of never knowing when he was going to allow your next breath. Every time counting down until you were squirming for air before pulling out with an exhale as if he were breathing with you.

He ogled at the messy evidence of effort plastered on your face, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his pink tip. His dick twitched at your huffs and tear-streaked face and he rubbed your puffy lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” and the words went straight to your swollen clit before he continued playing with you.

He loved how your throat closed around his dick when you swallowed, like you were trying to milk him for every drop. Sucking, blowing, and swallowing til your throat knew every vein and his orgasm was coming and coming fast. His stuttering hips and tightening grip on your hair were enough evidence if the low moans competing with the sloshes of your throat weren’t. 

Heat pooled in his stomach, brows furrowing as he locked eyes with a borderline whiny look. He licked his lips. “Ready for me to cum for you, baby?” he asked in that breathy voice he always does before he unravels. And your dick-drunk nod, knowing you were about to earn your meal, was all he needed to cup your jaw, making sure you looked him right in the eye as the coil in him snapped.

“Fuck, hah, I’m cumming,” and he groaned, biting his pierced lips and slipping all the way to the base til your nose brushed his tufts of hair and he filled your throat. 

Ropes of cum poured out of him, and he went dizzy, his mouth falling open with shaky moans watching your spaced and gone face as he came down your throat. Your wrists strained against the tie as your throat constricted, but you swallowed his throbbing cock with ease like it was the only sustenance you needed. Pumping you full until he was a soft and empty gummy worm in your mouth. 

He shuddered and collected his breaths, slowly pulling from your lips with a sigh. You hummed and licked them—most of your lunch had gone to your stomach, but remnants remained on your tongue, warm and delicious. 

"ThAnk," you cleared your throat. "Thank you," you huffed, throat raw and voice cracking, but he just shook his head and smiled. You were above asking for what you wanted but never forgot to be grateful when you got it.

He swiped your chin with his thumb. "You're a brat," and you beamed, lifting your chin. Because he didn't know how right he was.

And while that was just the beginning of your exploration of power dynamics, it quickly became a very slippery slope. Because while you might've thought you were the expert in all things whips and chains and excitement, Suguru had been quietly doing some research and taking hellah notes. And taking one directly from you, he soon began to make a few secret purchases of his own.

Suguru has his hobbies. 

He likes to read, play sports to stay fit, and enjoys spending time in nature when he can. Outside of that, he’s pretty simple. 

But there’s a little-known fun fact about your beau—he’s a secret artiste.

It’s rare that he’ll break out his paints and easel, but once every blue moon when his inner Picasso strikes, he’ll sit for hours, brush to canvas until it all pours out of him. 

You always find yourself in a trance watching him in that element—his quiet intensity as he gets lost in space and creates galaxies. But even though Suguru isn't loud about his talent, he’s actually very creative and always looking for different ways to release and create. Never shying awaying from trying new things and always looking for new mediums. And canvases. 

You slightly winced, then moaned. 

Wax is hot in more ways than one, and it’s just perfect for when Suguru wants to creatively get his hands on you.

He loves creating delicate patterns on your back, savoring every moment and watching your face twist between pain and ecstasy as he skillfully lets the wax drip. Never too much at once, the hot lines spill and cool across his favorite canvas—your skin. There's a world of difference between paper stretched across wood, and the softness beneath his hands, and your skin is far lovelier, simply irresistible. 

His hair brushed your skin as he leaned down, his lips tracing down your back and between the patterns. So soft against his lips. All of you, from your neck to your chest to your tummy, softly mold under his fingers like clay when he worships you like art, and sometimes he’ll drip hot lines down your inner thighs and plush cheeks just so he can melt his lips between them—feeling so lucky to have the privilege to feast on a masterpiece. 

Your own little van Gogh, drowning his nose in your folds and bringing curses to your lips.

You knew Suguru was a modern-day Michelangelo with a paintbrush, but now your once shy and reserved man was having too much fun exploring all the unconventional ways he could create art—and slowly crossing over into a world of kinky debauchery. 

And at the end of every session, he never forgets to take a Polaroid picture to show you and keep for himself. A little testament to his sentiments and sensuality. It wasn’t all just about whips and chains after all. 

You also needed—

Buzz! 

Your eyes screw shut and you tense but can’t move because of the

—rope.

“Hey,” Suguru snaps. “I said keep your eyes on me,” and you shot daggers at him because how the hell could you when you’ve been overstimulated for hours and have already cum, twice?  

Eyes softening, you whimper, but your heart sinks when he just rolls his eyes.

Fuck. 

You really did it this time. 

Your boyfriend has a lot of patience, a thin line for everyone else but a lot for you. But God, do you know how to fucking tap dance on it sometimes.

“Did you think you were cute?” his face screwed. “Dancing in sections and on bars. Guys?” The vibrations increase, and you double over whining.

In all fairness, you did beg him to come out with you and your girls earlier, but your boo has been working on a big project lately and was understandably beyond tired. Still, you complained, eventually giving up and still going out without him, but you didn't expect a play-by-play of your night and mini rebellion to end up all over your equally drunk friend’s Snapchat—or for Suguru to see it. 

You picked a hell of a time to act out too, because, after weeks of secretly practicing his newest obsession, Suguru had finally perfected it: the harness prayer tie, and watching your wrists struggle against his work was the most satisfying confirmation of his skill he could’ve asked for. 

The skill and intricacy of restraint and rope play was the perfect balance between tapping into his creative side and reeling you in when you got out of hand—now proving very useful after you had fully pissed him off. 

Leaning down, he grips your face. “You wanna act like a slut so badly, I’m gonna treat you one.”

But he didn’t just give you the dick you’d been acting out over right away though—he hardly thought you deserved it. 

Instead, a vibrator has been nuzzling your clit for hours after he woke you up the following morning and went to work with his tie—your blubbering whines falling on deaf ears as he overstimulated you until you felt ruined and raw.

Sniffling, you plead, “I’m sorry, Sugu.”

“You’re always sorry,” he bites back, his hand wrapping under your jaw. “And so fucking greedy, you know that? I bet you still want me to fuck you stupid like the cock-thirsty slut you are even though you’ve been begging me for a break.” And your stomach pangs, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the rawness because he was more than right. 

“You want attention so bad, you want me to fuck you so bad,” he pulls your hair, making you look straight at him. “Then beg,” and the serious way he looks at you makes you actually start to feel bad for upsetting him so much.

Swallowing your pride, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Please,” you whimper, “I’ll do anything just please…please fuck me.”

And the words had barely left your lips when fear shot through you, his eyes darkening as you quickly realized that you should’ve been more careful with what you wished for. 

Without warning, he placed you on the bed and flipped you over. Gripping your hips, he hastily pushed you down into a grade-A arch and tucked his tee between his teeth, springing his cock free before knocking a breath out of you with one swift thrust. 

You both gasp, every muscle tensing as your Earths shatter.

Suguru nearly collapses. Your tight pussy that's been dripping and yearning for hours is easy to slide into yet struggles to accommodate his fat girth, but that doesn't stop him from reeling his hips back and pushing in even deeper.

You nearly draw blood from your lip as he begins to thrust with a pent-up intensity that's been building since last night, nearly blue-balling himself to take care of you in your drunken state and fighting the urge to say fuck it and punish you right then and there.

But now that you were good and sober and overly sensitive, he could finally ruin your dick-starved pussy and fuck you blind. 

His hold on you tightens, his knuckles turning white as he fucks into you with a primal urgency. Not caring if you can take it or not because he needs his dick burned into your brain in a way you wouldn’t forget. Besides, who could possibly hold back when you feel so fucking good wrapped around him? Mind-numbing in a way he can never get enough and desperately needs more, and he grips the divots of your waist and pulls you closer, making struggled whines fall from your mouth as he makes you simply take it.

The nerves of your pussy are on fire as every inch of him stretches and hastily fills you, the persistent vibrator on your clit still buzzing and sending you spiraling.

The way he's manhandling you, the soreness in your wrists, and the relentless rhythm of his hips all blend into a rush more intoxicating than anything you had last night until you're overwhelmed and bucking to get away. 

“Uh-uh, don’t run.” And his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up and back against him, two fingers hooking in your mouth and making you arch so deliciously that every kiss of your cervix sends spasms through your walls and coaxes his cock for everything he’s got. 

"You feel that?" he snaps. "I fucking bet you do." And your breath grows lighter and lighter until your head goes dizzy, your body turning to Jell-O and slowly melting into the bed, but he follows you down and deepens his stroke. You lose your arch, but with one quick thrust, your nails are digging into your palms. He slaps your ass, punishment for making him mess up his rhythm, before hiking you back up and resuming the brutal pace.

Your mind goes blank and his hair falls from its neat bun, sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead from how hard he's fucking you and leaving you caught between begging for mercy and craving more of this delicious torture.

"Look at you," he growls, "Fuckin' brat—ngh—this is what you wanted, right?" And you can barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak, your reply coming out as garbled moans, but Suguru is having none of it, his hand sliding from your neck to your hair and pulling your head back. You cry out, the sound muffled by his fingers still hooked in your mouth as he bottoms out inside you. "I asked you a question," and the room fills with obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and fumbling 'yeses' from your mouth as he bullies your cervix. 

"Fuck hah," his brows furrow, "you drive me crazy, you know that?" he says, voice strained. "You wanted attention?" he breathes, "Well, now you've got it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it." and each word is punctuated by his leaky tip, making your overstimulated pussy clench and draw a sharp hiss from his lips.

"That's it, baby," his rhythm slightly falters. "Squeeze my cock. Show me how sorry you are." And his hand slips from your lips and snakes around your front, pressing the vibrator even harder against you until the delicious stretch of his cock and the merciless buzzing becomes too much to bear.

Your vision blurs, your thighs quaking and trying to draw together, but there's no escape. 

"You right there?" He pushes through the familiar clench of your walls. "Then cum for me," Suguru commands, and the words are the final push you need for your orgasm to rip through you like lightning—your body involuntarily arching as waves of hot, white pleasure crash over you.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you helplessly choke out, walls spazzing and gripping Suguru's cock like shackles, pulsating around him until it forces his own to come chasing after yours.

He struggles for breaths, "Where do you want it, baby?" But it was just a formality, a silly question really, because there was no way he could pull out of your vice-grip. He just needed to know you wanted it as badly as he wanted to fill you up.

"Inside, please, inside me, please," you stammer, still reeling from your own orgasm before he sends you into another, pulling you taunt by the rope and flushing you against his waist.

"Take it," and his moan is low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hips and locking you in as his body tenses, his hot seed flooding and filling you to the brim.

Your eyes meet the top of your head as you cum again in tandem, bliss rippling through your bodies.

"Fuck, c'mere." His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, plunging his pulsing cock deep into you one more time as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, pumping out the last of his seed until you're both panting and trembling and he feels his cum oozing out of you.

Slowly, Suguru releases his grip on your hair, deeply exhaling as he gently lowers the both of you to the bed, his softening cock still nestled inside you. You whimper at the still buzzing vibrator, and he finally switches it off, tossing it aside.

He presses soft, soothing kisses to your shoulder. "You did so well, baby," and he carefully unties the rope, his touch tender and apologetic as he massages the faint marks and kisses your wrists. 

Out of everything you do together, inside and out of your newfound dynamic, this is his favorite part of all: putting you back together after breaking you into pieces.

His unwavering desire to care for you never changes, even when you do the absolute most just to get his attention and show him that you're just as obsessed with him as he is with you—your private but unmistakably commanding Panther and his secretly kinky Powderpuff princess who was now hanging on to life by a thread.

He softly laughs, slinging your limp arms around his neck and pulling you lovingly into his chest as you breathe. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your rib, his lips peppering your head with kisses as he sighed, feeling your heartbeat slowly sync with his.

But after a few moments in each other's arms, a curiosity that's been living rent-free in Suguru's head for quite some time now rears its ugly head—and he just has to know the answer.

"Sooo," he drawls, "... Taichi or me?" And you almost snort, a smile tugging at your lips as you nuzzle his chest. You look up at him with a playful gaze only to find him deadass—figuring that after a day like today, there would be no better time to officially find out if he's finally settled the score with your anime husband.

Your eyes smile, and you reach up with the little strength you have to gently stroke his face and softly kiss his jaw.

You contently sigh. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, babe.”

extended angel's note: oh god what can i say...

i can confidently say that this took me the entire month of september to write and it's definitely the hardest pieces i've worked on so far god bLESS

y'all have no idea how much word count RESTRAINT i had to use just to keep this reasonable (i do have a slightly extended version just for myself tho 🤭)

this was supposed to drop on my bday (unironically the day JJK ended) but life is life 🤠

anywho, thanks for reading 12k words of pure unadultered, unhinged smut. i hope it was worth it 🫶🏿

[mimikyuno]

love and hope and kindness being the running motifs in madoka magica and the forces that can single-handedly save and curse someone.

madoka’s love and kindness being what saves homura from her suicidal tendencies, but also what ultimately dooms madoka to die at the hands of the walpurgisnacht. homura’s love for madoka and undying hope to save her what curses her to repeat time and traumatise herself over and over again, while also increasing madoka’s karma and by default, cursing her too. madoka’s refusal for homura’s hope to be in vain being the driving force that grants hope to all, but also ends madoka’s existence. sayaka’s love for kyousuke and her altruistic, heroic ideals being what gives her confidence and hope at first, but when confronted with misogyny and unrequited love (even when you told yourself you would not expect him to love you back just because you sacrificed yourself for him) being what curses her. kyouko’s love for her family being the catalyst that leads it to break apart, because in all her childlike devotion to her parents, she couldn’t see her father for who he was. mami’s kindness forcing her to put up a brave face and resulting in her demise.

but it all does not end in despair! sayaka’s newfound love for kyouko being the reason kyouko is no longer lost and angry and alone. mami’s kindness finding a recipient in nagisa, to whom she can finally be a parental figure. in one universe nagisa was the one to end mami’s existence, but now they can both heal and not be alone anymore. madoka’s love for homura encompassing time and space and saving her, every time, over and over again. even when homura does not want it. even when she refuses her hand. madoka will always reach for her and find her and save her and show her kindness, even when homura thinks she does not deserves any, even when she’s willing to die in her own personal hell. homura’s love being yes, what commits the unforgivable sin and tears god apart, but also it is only through her “selfishness” and “terrible” act that the others get a shot at a normal childhood/adolescence. kyouko and sayaka can be together at last, mami and nagisa find each other, madoka can live with her family again.

this is what i hope will be explored in the next movie. this intrinsic relationship between hope and despair, love as a lifeline and a curse. kindness and selfishness coexisting and influencing each other. i hope the girls manage to finally tip the scale between hope and despair towards the light. i hope madoka’s love will keep on reaching homura even when she thinks she’s evil incarnate, a devil. even when she thinks her existence as antithetical to madoka’s true nature. even when she thinks herself beyond salvation. i hope they get a shot at happiness, together this time.

[twilightkitkat]

Thinking about the role of the "love interest" in superhero media and how poolverine subverts this.

The "love interest" in most movies is just a placeholder. Boring. Tame, Predictable.

This is especially true in action media, wherein romance takes a backseat and is often seen as an add-on rather than a main plot point. Romance is either a source of conflict or motivation that serves to drive a character arc forward, but no more or less.

Take, for example, Vanessa. I love her character. Her personality and character are fascinating. However, especially in Deadpool 2 and 3, she serves more as a device to move the plot forward rather than a genuine character. The first movie established her character and importance, so it's understandable why Wade chose to hide his identity and how he slowly came to terms with his new identity. She helped move his character arc of self-acceptance forward, yes, but she also existed as her own entity.

In the movies after this, she isn't treated with the same care. She's used as a central motivation in Deadpool 2, a force that drives Wade to save Russel and confront Cable when his character motivations aren't easily tied to morals. However, that's it. She isn't fighting alongside him or given the same treatment as the other important "family" characters. In Deadpool 3, she's treated with even less care, only having short scenes at the beginning and end of the movie to give Wade a representation of "home."

This isn't to say Vanessa isn't an important character and shouldn't be treated as such. However, the purpose of having a "love interest" in an action movie's plot isn't just to have someone to love. It's almost always to have someone who can be kidnapped or killed to spring the main character into action. It's someone who fades to the sidelines so the main character can show off while showcasing their relationship success.

Consider this: in all of the Marvel comic universes, Deadpool and Wolverine have had many different partners. Different names, different faces. It's common for the "love interest" of a superhero to be seen as an accessory that changes shape depending on the comic artist or franchise. After all, they don't need a cohesive identity to serve their purpose as a "general, digestible reason for the main character to act."

Everyone understands how love can cause people to do crazy things. There is no further elaboration needed, even for morally grey or black characters. It's an easy way to make an understandable motive for the audience. Suspension of disbelief.

And yet, the superheroes remain the same. They get to keep their identity throughout different media. It's always Wolverine and Deadpool. Logan and Wade. Even if they have slightly different plotlines, their core characteristics and intrinsic identity are constant.

Logan could have Jean Gray. Or Mariko. Or Silver Fox. He can have anyone play the role of "love interest," a role that can be shapen by a ball of clay and changed entirely to fit the narrative.

But his "rival" and "best friend" in the multiverse will always be Deadpool. They're notorious for being referenced in each other's media. For fighting. For working together. They are A Set.

This is why I'm so much more drawn to Poolverine than other ships. Wade has different love interests depending on the media type. So does Logan. I can't tie in knowledge from different interpretations into the romance because the love interests are fluid. But with each other, they interact in almost every universe. Have a consistent bond. A "standard." They're soulmates, in a way, forever destined to meet and be important to each other.

This is setting aside how female love interests are treated in male-oriented media in general. They're normally seen as someone to be protected, to stay at home, and welcome back the hero when they return. Some are allowed to be strong, to have abilities, but rarely ever do they stand on equal footing with the male main character. Not where it matters.

This is exhibited in both Wolverine and Deadpool's movies. Vanessa is introduced as a "badass," someone who's part of the underworld and knows how to fight, yet she's often placed in the damsel in distress position. She could match Wade before his mutation, maybe, but after he dons the mask and becomes Deadpool, his work is over her pay grade. The same happens with Mariko in the Wolverine movie: she's initially introduced as someone who can fight, but Logan ends up protecting her almost entirely and is responsible for rescuing her from her kidnapping at the end.

It creates an emotional rift between the side of the "hero" and the side of the "love interest," because it feels like they aren't fighting together for the same cause. It feels like the love interest is treated more as a "reward" for the hero to come back to after saving the world rather than a person.

When the entire movie follows the perspective of the main character as they fight, and action scenes are primarily used to invoke emotion, it feels lackluster to have the love interest stay at home. The most intense moments of emotional connection are typically portrayed between the hero and someone else who understands their suffering who they're trying to reach, such as a villain or rival or friend.

Love interests are never on the same "playing field" as the main character and thus can't relate to their struggle. The director tells the audience that they should be happy or sad when a love interest is on screen, but they don't show the same level of emotional depth when the main point of an action movie is action. The entire premise of the main character is action, and yet the love interest is absent from it. Or a victim rather than a player.

This is why Poolverine subverts this trope. You have two people, each with their own franchise and life. Each with their own skills. Each with similarly powerful abilities.

They are equals and are treated as such by the narrative. They take each other seriously and have an emotional connection because they understand each other's suffering. They both are out on the battlefield, fighting the same war and overcoming their differences. They both are allowed to have "cool" scenes and "sad" scenes and "funny" scenes. They both are given the spotlight to experience character growth and have their own unique internal conflict because they both are strong characters who are narratively important.

They both have chemistry. Which is nearly impossible to attain when the love interest isn't even in the lab.

[novlr]

How to write loneliness?

Loneliness is a universally shared emotion that shapes the psyche of your characters and the world they inhabit. It’s a silent force that can drive and change your characters, adding layers of complexity and pathos to their development. Here are some quick tips to write about characters experiencing loneliness.

Behaviour

May avoid social interactions.

Often choose to isolate themselves.

A lack of enthusiasm for activities they once enjoyed.

May appear distracted, distant, or aloof.

Neglect their personal appearance or living space.

Overuse technology or social media as a substitute for real-life interaction.

Engage in one-sided conversations with pets or inanimate objects.

Have a rigid routine that keeps them isolated.

Live vicariously through fictional characters in books and on TV.

Resist attempts by others to engage with them socially.

Interactions

Conversations may be brief, superficial, and lacking in depth.

Avoid eye contact and physically withdraw in social settings.

Miss social cues or respond inappropriately during interactions.

Exhibit envy or resentment towards those with strong social connections.

Overly formal or distant, even with friends.

React negatively to offers of companionship or help.

Express a cynical or negative view of relationships and friendships.

Display relief when social interactions are over.

Deflect personal questions and redirect the conversation.

Have a small social circle but lack a true confidant or intimate relationships.

Body language

Slumped shoulders or lowered head to avoid drawing attention.

Minimal or restrained gestures during conversations.

A fixed or blank expression, showing their detachment.

Fiddle with objects or their clothing as a self-soothing behaviour.

Cross their arms or legs defensively when approached.

Sit or stand at the edges of a group, physically distancing themselves.

Might have a nervous tick or habit when faced with social interaction.

Exhibit slow or lethargic movements, suggesting a lack of energy or interest.

Have a personal bubble they are reluctant to let others penetrate.

Usually the last to arrive and the first to leave social gatherings.

Attitude

Express a philosophical or poetic view on the nature of solitude.

Have an air of resignation or acceptance of their loneliness.

Harbour a secret hope of finding connection, but feel it is unattainable.

Quick to criticise or judge others as a defence mechanism.

Have a deep internal world that is rich and complex, contrasting with their outer displays of loneliness.

Believe that they are fundamentally different or disconnected from others.

Have a strong sense of self-reliance, seeing it as a necessity.

Demonstrate a fear of rejection or abandonment that prevents them from reaching out.

Heightened sensitivity to the pain of others, stemming from their own loneliness.

Experience moments of clarity or creativity when they are alone.

Positive story outcomes

Find strength and independence in solitude.

Experience personal growth and self-discovery.

Form a meaningful connection that alleviates their loneliness.

Gain a deeper understanding and empathy for the loneliness of others.

Use their time alone to develop a skill or pursue a passion.

Find that solitude allows for reflection and the development of a clear perspective.

Inspire others to appreciate their own company and find peace in solitude.

Become a catalyst for change, helping others to overcome their loneliness.

Create a work of art or literature that expresses their feelings and connects with others.

Their experiences of loneliness make their relationships more meaningful when they do occur.

Negative story outcomes

Become increasingly detached and withdrawn from the world.

Develop mental health issues such as depression or anxiety.

Make poor decisions due to a lack of guidance and support.

Grow to resent others, leading to conflicts and misunderstandings.

Spiral into destructive behaviours as a way to cope.

Experience a sense of hopelessness about ever finding connection.

Become distrustful of others, hindering potential relationships.

Lose touch with social norms and struggle to reintegrate into society.

Overlook or sabotage potential opportunities for companionship.

Leave a lasting impression of sadness and regret in the narrative.

Helpful vocabulary

Forlorn

Sequestered

Estranged

Abandoned

Reclusive

Isolated

Adrift

Detached

Solitary

Alienated

Despondent

Forsaken

Lonesome

Marooned

Melancholic

Ostracised

Remote

Unaccompanied

Vacant

Withdrawn

Yearning

Bereft

Disconnected

Outcast

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (6)- Standing Face To Face

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 6- 5k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 5

Having to live next door to the woman who haunted your thoughts for the last decade, who still had a piece of your heart despite everything that had happened, was the cruellest joke the universe could have played on you. It tore you apart a little each day when you’d leave the house and watch as she tried to ignore your longing and pleading gaze, the way she’d try to hurry the twins up to get into the car so she wouldn’t have to interact with you. It felt like she was… repulsed by you, by the feelings you stirred within her and it only pressed against the wound on your heart harder every time. It hurt, it hurt so fucking much and you weren’t sure how to untangle the mess of thoughts in your mind, how to start unravelling the whirlwind of emotions that flooded through you every day when she’d ignore and avoid you.

You couldn’t decide what broke your heart more, the fact that you had to push down everything once again for her and pretend that she was just the woman next door, that she didn’t mean anything to you because she shouldn’t. It brought back all those memories of bottling up your feelings, putting everyone else before yourself and having to experience the dull ache that settled in your chest with every forced smile, every lie you told to make her feel better as that’s all you ever cared about. You only ever cared about her.

The other thing that slowly twisted the knife lodged in your chest was the fact that she had finally gotten the life she always wanted, the life she desperately thought she needed, and she wasn’t happy with it. You knew Wanda, you had known her better than anyone else, you could read her body and understand exactly what was wrong with her with a simple look, and you knew that she wanted nothing more than something different from the life she had built with Vision.

You could only watch helplessly as she pushed herself through each and every day, watch as the two of them would argue constantly when the twins were away at their grandparents or uncle’s house, the way she’d be left with tears in her eyes and no one to comfort her. It broke you in a way you couldn’t imagine, the sight of her wiping her tears on the doorstep as he stormed past her, the many times it had happened and how it hung over her like a shadow. It was a dark presence that loomed over her joy, the corner of her never lifting as high as she’d want them to because of how trapped she felt.

You just wanted to make her smile again, but you didn’t want to interfere, clearly reading the signs that she was still confused and shocked by your arrival, likely still trying to wrap her head around the swarm of emotions that were dug up just like you were.

A deep sigh left you as your hands reached up to rub your temples, your mind unable to stop thinking about her, about the two of you, what the two of you were. You needed to stop driving yourself mad, to just stop thinking about those green eyes for once in your life. It was over, it had been for years and it forever would be. There was no point in torturing yourself by thinking about what the two of you could have been, the fact it could have been you two living with your family like the way you had always dreamed.

Another frustrated noise left you as you couldn’t stop your thoughts dragging you down a negative spiral, your body stilling in your hallways with Lucky’s lead in your hand as you took a deep breath, trying your best to compose yourself before you would inevitably see Wanda, knowing she’d likely be getting the twins in the car soon for school.

It took you a minute to gradually relax yourself, Lucky’s eyes staring up at you, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he waited a little impatiently, clearly excited to go for the walk when a knock at the door surprised you both, your heart fluttering in your chest briefly. Was it Wanda? You shook the thought away almost as soon as it came, a sudden nervousness crawling through you as you tentatively opened the door, a sigh mixed with relief and disappointment escaping you at the sight of a slightly older woman with a bowl of cookies in her hand.

“Good morning dear, you’ll have to forgive me for how long it’s taken for me to welcome you to the neighbourhood,” the woman said, her eyes raking up and down your body as you were in your workout gear, her smile lifting a little bit as mischief flashed in her eyes, her head tilting in an enticing manner. “My husband only told me yesterday that you had officially moved in,” she continued, her eyes eventually meeting yours, her gaze expressing how she was looking at you like fresh meat, her hand reaching forwards in greeting. “I’m Agatha, I live in the house across the street,” the older woman introduces, her tone cheery as you smile at her politely, shaking her hand whilst observing how her gaze eventually leaves your figure to Lucky, her smile faltering for a minute at the sight of a pet before returning to her joyful state.

“I’m Y/n, it’s lovely to meet you,” you reply kindly, taking the bowl from her with a soft smile whilst thanking her, her fingers lingering against yours, brushing against you purposely before she moves her hand, clearly trying to flirt with you. You brush off her actions, knowing you weren’t interested in her, only one woman present in your mind as the sound of two young boys and their tired mother caught your attention, your head turning immediately at the sound.

You missed how Agatha’s gaze remained focussed on you, watching curiously as the look in your eyes changed to longing as you stared off at Wanda trying to get the twins into the car for school, Tommy seeming to be grumpy as he trudged his way over to the vehicle, a small wave directed at you as he saw Lucky sat by your feet, his mood still sour though. You shyly waved back to the boy as you did every morning, Wanda’s head naturally turning to see who he was acknowledging, her body seeming to freeze momentarily at the sight of you and Agatha, her hand affectionately on your shoulder. A flash of something appeared on her expressive features, your brows furrowing slightly at the hurt you saw before it immediately faded away as she needed to get in the car, the twins running a little late for school.

Reluctantly, you tore your attention away from the other woman and back to Agatha, an intrigued glimmer evident in her eyes as she smiled at you, her hand still on your shoulder making you shuffle slightly, the older woman getting the hint.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I need to get going now,” you say, one of your hands rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly as your eyes flickered to the red car reversing out of the drive, catching Wanda’s green once more before refusing to look in that general direction again until she had gone, not needing any more confusion to cloud your mind.

“No worries dear,” her tone is still chirpy despite your rejection of her advances, “If you need anything I’m just across the road,” she reiterates, a small nod coming from you as you place the bowl of cookies on the side in the hall, making sure you had everything you needed for your walk as she continued, “I mean anything Y/n, don’t be shy to come over,” she adds before saying goodbye, the suggestiveness not missed in her voice as you just smile once more, trying to kindly get rid of her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you softly murmur, locking the front door after she had left you, another deep sigh escaping you as swarms of doubts and insecurities filled your mind, that hurt expression haunting you for your entire walk.

***

Throwing the tennis ball to the bottom of your garden, you chuckled at the way Lucky sprinted to chase after the ball, his body jumping slightly to catch the item as it bounced against the grass, a proud look on his face as he pranced back over to you, excited to continue playing. Your fingers gently threaded through his golden locks affectionately as he dropped the ball for you to throw again, his tongue hanging comically out of his mouth as he stared at the item in your hand as if it was the most important thing in the world, his brown eyes tracking every little movement of your hand as you went to throw it again.

Just as you were about to toss it, the sight of a football being kicked over the small fence caught both of your attentions as it rolled against your grass, Lucky running off to investigate the odd object whilst your head tilted to the side, chuckling at the sight of two sheepish boys looking over the fence. Billy’s face was plastered with embarrassment as he apologetically looked at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking over at the where the ball had landed, his gaze brightening at the sight of Lucky sitting next to it, the golden retriever having stolen both of their hearts. Tommy’s expression contrasted his brother's, the brief apologetic look on his face swiftly turning into excitement once he saw the dog, the brunette always elated to see Lucky and desperately wishing he could spend more time with him, his mouth moving without thinking.

“Can we come and play?” he asked instead of apologising for kicking the ball over or asking for it back, your brow raising at his reddened cheeks as he realised he should have said sorry first, Billy muttering something to himself at his brother���s actions. “Please?” He added sheepishly at the end, another amused chuckle escaping you before you considered his words.

You could tell that both of the boys were eager to spend time entertaining the bundle of fluff, the anticipation in their eyes as they waited for you to respond enough of a hint that they were wishing you would say yes. Personally, you didn’t mind if they wanted to come over and play, the two of them most definitely going to be able to match Lucky’s energy levels and tire him out, the issue was whether Wanda would be alright with it. You didn’t want to seem as though you were meddling in her business or with her family, but you were desperate to find an excuse to stand face to face with her and have a proper conversation, unable to keep ignoring or pushing away the feelings that resurfaced every time you saw her.

“Yes but only if your mother says it’s ok,” you answer, their smiles practically reaching their ears as they run off inside to find Wanda emphatically, your body moving to play with their football as you were waiting for them, Lucky rolling around in the grass by your feet. As you were doing kick ups, the sight of auburn hair caught your attention, your focus slipping causing you to miss the ball as it dropped to the floor, your heart pounding against your ribcage as Wanda stood by the fence, looking over at you with a confused look, her emotions masked as the twins stood next to her, bodies practically buzzing with excitement.

“Are you sure it’s alright if they come and play?” she asks, her voice staying composed and void of any emotion, your features conveying your disappointment as she avoids your gaze, simply looking over the work you had done in your garden instead.

“Yes, as long as you’re fine with it,” you softly murmur, your tone gentle and encouraging her to look at you, those enchanting eyes briefly flickering to yours and almost stealing your breath away, her cheeks tinting a subtle shade of pink as she averts her gaze, focussing on her children instead.

“Behave and have fun,” she mutters in a motherly tone, pressing a quick kiss to the both of their heads before they run off to go to your gate, Wanda’s eyes meeting yours one last time before she tries to turn away, the sight of her walking away from you, still trying to stay away from you, causing a flash of hurt to wash through you.

“Wanda, wait,” you rush out, walking as close to the fence as you could, hope bubbling in your chest at the way her body stills. Hesitation was evident on her face as she reluctantly turned to look at you, the emotions she was desperately trying to keep control of flooding through her as she didn't hide the hurt, confusion and longing in her eyes, your shoulders slumping slightly at her despondent form.

Wanda wanted to talk to you, she wanted to escape reality and savour spending time with you, knowing that you somehow seemed to make the world disappear and lift the corner of her lips no matter what, but she couldn’t. Every time she looked at you she was reminded how she made the wrong choice, how she had the life she was told to have and not the one she wanted. She was also reminded at how loveless her relationship was and how under-appreciated she was, how little she cared for Vision and their marriage as that hopeful look in your eyes stirred more in her than any look he’d offered her for years. You were looking at her with something more, something more genuine, and it always managed to stir something deep in her soul, making her crave your presence constantly. You looked at her as though she was the world, eyes filled with memories of love and joy but also agony and heartbreak, bringing up the events of that day and forcing reality back down on her. It was a meeting of changed souls, you weren’t the same person you were twelve years ago and neither was she. You were both forced to move on.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy at the moment,” she tries to excuse herself but you see straight through the lie, the wound on your heart tearing open as she meets your gaze apologetically.

“Please,” you whisper out, lacing your voice with desperation as you needed to talk to her, it tormented you not being able to speak to her, to keep everything bottled inside you, your emotions ready to burst. “Please, just five minutes whenever your free,” you plead, the tone of your voice and that same longing look in your eyes making her relive that heart-breaking moment with you, cracking her composure as she nods, gradually retreating at the sound of the twins entering your garden to distract you.

With a familiar ache settling in your heart, you stare at the back of her as she walks away from you, the twins running over with ecstatic grins on your face, forcing you to wipe off the anxious expression on your face and smile at them playfully, the corner of your lips not quite reaching as high as you wished they would, your mind consumed with the thought of their mother.

***

The next hour or so with the twins passed by much quicker than you expected, the constant laughter spilling from their lips eventually evoking a sense of happiness and delight from you at the amount of fun they were having with you. The three of you gave Lucky an endless amount of affection as you played a variety of games with him, competing with one another to see who could throw a tennis ball the furthest for him to fetch, running around your garden like lunatics whilst playing a version of tag as the bundle of joy liked to chase you all playfully until he became tired, deciding to sit for a little bit after having had a drink, the sound of his lapping amusing to the twins.

The small smile on your lips stretched wider at the way Billy collapsed on the ground next to Lucky, carefully leaning into his body and cuddling with the dog in an adorable manner as Tommy asked to play football with you, somehow still full of energy as he ran around chasing your ‘poor’ passes, unaware at how you were just trying to tire him out.

“I thought you said you were good at football,” Tommy teased whilst he panted for breath, his cheeks flushed red from the exercise as a small amount of sweat built on his forehead, your head shaking, a sign of your amusement as you flicked the ball up in a skilful manner, briefly showing off to the boy.

“I am good,” you chuckled back whilst you passed it straight to his feet, a look of realisation appearing on his face as he laughed, playing a rubbish pass back to you on purpose to make you sprint to catch it as a small act of revenge before he started to ask you to teach him some skills, wanting to be able to do more tricks to impress his friends.

Nodding to his request, you moved closer to him to show him the basics of how to start off doing kick ups more efficiently, your body crouched by his as you held the ball, showing him the motion you wanted it to travel in. You were patient with him as you demonstrated how he should do it with the best form, your smile never leaving your face as he attempted to reach his goal of ten without dropping the ball, his cheeks tinting a darker shade of red as he kept messing up.

“Hey,” you softly murmured as you could tell he was getting embarrassed and shy with how he kept failing, his gaze avoiding yours. “You’ve got this, just keep going, you’ve nearly got it,” you encouraged, trying to reassure him as you offered him a calm and tender smile, patting his back in a motivating way as he took a moment to compose himself before attempting it again.

Too busy watching how Tommy did, you missed how Wanda slowly walked out of her house to check up on the twins, wanting to let them know dinner would be ready soon and observe how you interacted with her children. A smile stretched across her face at the sheer joy on both of their faces as Tommy played with you and Billy with Lucky, the genuine sign of her happiness slowly fading as a lump clawed its way into her throat, her heart clenching painfully at the sight of what she could have had. She could have had a life filled with laughter and love, she could have had someone to call home, someone who would care for the family they’d created together and someone to enjoy life with but she didn’t. She wouldn’t let herself be loved by you, by a woman, so she threw it all away to please her family. Why couldn’t she just admit the truth? She didn’t want any of this, she wanted… No, she couldn’t say it.

She hated the emotions flooding through her, the regret and shame she felt whilst she continued to look at you and reminisce on your past together, your words ringing around in her head almost mockingly. ‘You can’t run away from…this forever’ tormented her thoughts, drowning her in despair as she didn’t want to run anymore, she didn’t want to be scared of what it meant but she just couldn’t accept the truth. It terrified her, she didn’t know how to tread through the uncertainty, insecurity and doubt filling her mind when she even tried to consider her true feelings. It felt like she was lost at sea and she knew whose hand she wished would pull her from the darkness and shame that surrounded her, but she knew that would never happen. It couldn’t happen.

A glimmer of defeat appeared in her eyes as she savoured the sight of the three of you, her heart skipping a beat when you turned your head and met her gaze, her lips attempting to pull up into a soft smile whilst your face morphed into concern, the boys missing the saddened look on their mothers face as they ran over to the fence, wanting their mother to join in on the fun.

“Mom, come and play with us!” they exclaimed enthusiastically, wanting to spend time with her whilst also staying with you, preferring to play with you than sit at home with their father who was too busy to pay them as much attention.

“I’m sorry Dorogie but dinner is ready,” she murmurs, her hand cupping Billy’s cheek as he stands near the fence, disappointment etched on both of their faces, the fact they had to leave you upsetting them a little bit. “You both need to come back now and wash your hands before food,” she continues, a weight pulling on her heart at the dispiritedness of her boys, her eyes cautiously flickering over to your inquisitive gaze, her eyes catching the tender smile on your lips, a little irritated at how much it soothed yet hurt her.

“But I don’t want to go yet,” Tommy mutters, looking at you hopefully, wanting you to help persuade his mother into letting them play longer.

“I’m sorry but your Mom is in charge here,” you say to the boys, not wanting to give them false hope as they begrudgingly start to move, Wanda offering you an appreciative gaze before speaking up,

“If it’s alright with Y/n, I’m sure you two will be able to go over again another time,” she softly says, their faces lighting up at the possibility of doing this again, their heads snapping around to look at you, further brightening at the way you nod in approval. “Now come on, dinner is nearly ready,” she says once more, her motherly tone seeping into her words as the twins swiftly say goodbye to you before spending more time saying goodbye to Lucky, your hand dramatically going to your heart as they run off laughing at your theatrics, a small smile present on Wanda’s face before you turn to her, a tension slowly building in the air as you are finally left alone.

Standing face to face with her after all these years was more daunting than you had imagined, a sudden lump forcing its way into your throat and preventing you from saying anything, your hesitant and uncertain eyes staring at her, seeming to get lost in her enchanting eyes whilst your chest tightened. You longingly gazed at every swirl of green you had memorised that day, your eyes slowly drifting from her green to her other features, truly admiring how much she had changed over the last twelve years. It was odd, looking at her after all this time and noticing how the world had affected her, the way her features had matured, the way her eyes held less hope and naivety in them, a hidden sense of brokenness clear for you and only you to see.

You were both a shadow of your former selves as you simply stared at one another, unsure of what to say as the silence spoke volumes, expressing how old wounds resurfaced for the both of you.

“Wanda…I-” you tried but you couldn’t find the words to describe how you were feeling, to explain to her the mess of thoughts in your head constantly tangling together, making it impossible to think clearly without thinking of her. You sighed in despair, your shoulders slumping slightly as your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her mesmerising green looking just as equally torn and confused as you both failed to find the words to help summarise the years of yearning that coursed through your veins.

“Why?” Is all she can muster out, her voice wavering as you notice her lips trembling slightly, the sight cracking your heart open even more as you see the pain clearly on her face. “Why did you have to come back?” Her voice is barely above a whisper as the words are forced out of her, raw with emotion as she feels tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, her trembling hands coming up to swiftly brush them away.

Her words unsettle something deep inside you, the way that they weren’t laced with anger or venom but heartache and confusion making you feel almost nauseous at how much this hurt you, how much facing your buried feelings tore you apart. It was agonising, realising for definite that she was only avoiding you because it physically hurt her heart to see you again after spending so long desperately trying to forget you, to bury that part of her that she was forever ashamed of.

“I… I had to leave England,” you eventually manage out after taking a deep breath, your mind finally thinking about something other than Wanda, part of you regretting that as the events of the last couple months came flooding back to you, only filling you with more pain and heartache. “It hurt too much to stay,” you whisper after a moment, your thumb subconsciously moving to your ring finger, expecting to twist a small band as it had become a nervous habit, the pad of your thumb simply brushing against bare skin though.

You tear your gaze away from her for a moment, brief memories of your life in the UK flashing through your mind as you remember her, remember how deeply you fell in love with her just for her to throw it all away, to slice open another part of your heart and leave you bleeding out in agony.

When you muster the courage to look at her again, you know she can see the tears threatening to spill, her brows furrowing as curiosity and concern overflow from her expressive green at your troubled state, a sigh escaping you as you owe her at least some explanation, even if you didn’t want to say what had truly happened.

“I was stupid enough to fall in love again,” you whisper, letting out a breathless laugh as you continue, “I thought maybe, just maybe, I could love someone the same way I loved…” Your words trail off as you realise you were about to say ‘you’ to Wanda, her eyes staring at you attentively as her heart pounds against her ribcage, waiting in anticipation at what you were about to say. “I could love someone again but it didn’t work out the way I thought it would,” you mutter out, letting her hear the bitterness in your voice before you take a deep breath, pushing away all the screaming thoughts in your mind. “I just needed to come home,” your voice is small as you look away from her, unsure whether the home you were referring to was Westview or Wanda, the woman standing opposite you somehow still a place of safety despite everything. Why couldn’t you just move on?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back after a moment, staring at her hands as you both struggle to hold the oddly intimate gaze, your lips pulling up into a soft, appreciative smile as you assume she’s referencing what you had recently gone through, missing the underlying regretful tone to her voice. Her eyes were trained on the gold wrapped around her finger, the words that fell from her lips meaning more than you could imagine as she subtly confessed her sorrow for what had happened between you two. She was sorry for everything, for giving into her desires and wanting you, for believing that she could hide the shameful part of her forever, for lying to you… She was sorry for letting you fall for her first, even more apologetic for falling for you harder but never wanting to admit it, knowing it just made things more complicated.

Letting your eyes drift back to her, you watch curiously at the way she stares at her wedding ring, her undecipherable gaze soon switching to exhaustion and annoyance at the sound of a male voice calling her name, interrupting your moment as her eyes flicker to you, trying to savour the last bit of comfort your presence provided.

“Wanda, can you come and serve dinner now?” Vision called from the patio door, his impatient mood evident in his voice as he asked for his wife’s services, the woman in front of you sighing despondently, knowing she had to go back to the life she told herself she needed.

“I have to go now,” she murmurs before offering you a small, forced smile, your body wanting to reach over the fence and grab her hand, to give her some sort of comfort but you stopped yourself, knowing you’d be crossing too many boundaries.

“Wait,” you say, halting her once more as she turns back to face you, clearly reluctant to go inside. “I know it’s not my place to say anything but I’m here for you Wanda,” your voice is tender and soft, wanting her to know that despite everything you still cared for her, earning an appreciative and gentle smile in return, the prominent ache in your chest lifting at the sight of it as she holds your gaze, losing herself in your caring eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers before turning around a final time, leaving you standing in your garden with a small, familiar warmth wrapping around your heart, the idea of slowly being able to mend your broken bond causing the corner of your lifts to tug up into a small, hopeful smile. 

[high-priestess-house]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: 𝕱𝖔𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝕰𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖞

In the realm of magic, one principle stands above the rest: the power of intent. At its core, intent is the driving force behind every spell, ritual, and magical endeavor. Whether you’re a seasoned practitioner or just beginning your journey, understanding and harnessing the power of your intent can profoundly enhance your magical practice.

What is Intent in Magic?

Intent is the focused desire and purpose you infuse into your magical workings. It is the clear, conscious will you project into the universe to manifest a specific outcome. Think of intent as the blueprint for your magic—it gives direction and purpose to your energy, guiding it toward your desired goal.

Why Intent Matters

Clarity and Focus: A clear intent provides a focal point for your magical energy. Without a well-defined goal, your energy can scatter, diluting its effectiveness. Like an archer aiming at a target, your intent narrows your focus, ensuring your energy hits its mark

Alignment with the Universe: When your intent is clear, you align yourself with the natural flow of universal energy. This alignment amplifies your power, making it easier for the universe to respond to your wishes. It’s like tuning into the right frequency on a radio—when you’re on the right channel, everything comes through more clearly.

Empowerment and Confidence: Knowing what you want and why you want it strengthens your confidence. This self-assuredness not only boosts your magical prowess but also enhances your overall sense of empowerment in life.

How to Harness the Power of Intent

Define Your Goal: Before casting any spell or performing a ritual, take time to clearly define your goal. What do you want to achieve? Be specific. Instead of saying, “I want to be happy,” you might say, “I want to find joy and contentment in my daily life.”

Visualize Your Desire: Visualization is a powerful tool for focusing your intent. Close your eyes and vividly imagine the outcome you desire. Engage all your senses—see it, hear it, feel it, smell it, and even taste it if applicable. The more detailed your visualization, the stronger your intent.

Use Affirmations: Positive affirmations reinforce your intent. Create a short, positive statement that encapsulates your goal and repeat it regularly. For example, if you seek financial abundance, you might affirm, “I am open to receiving wealth and prosperity.”

Infuse Emotion: Emotion is the fuel for your intent. Feel the emotions associated with achieving your goal—joy, relief, excitement, love. Emotions heighten your energy and make your intent more compelling to the universe.

Release and Trust: Once you’ve set your intent, release it into the universe and trust the process. Holding on too tightly can create resistance. Have faith that the universe will respond in the best possible way and at the right time.

Practical Exercises to Strengthen Your Intent

Meditation: Regular meditation helps quiet your mind and enhances your focus. Spend a few minutes each day meditating on your intent, allowing it to sink deeply into your subconscious.

Journaling: Write down your goals and the reasons behind them. Journaling clarifies your thoughts and solidifies your intent. Revisit your entries to stay aligned with your desires.

Rituals and Spellwork: Design rituals and spells that resonate with your intent. Use symbols, colors, herbs, and crystals that correspond to your goal. The act of performing a ritual reinforces your intent through action and symbolism.

The power of intent is the cornerstone of effective magic. By focusing your magical energy with a clear, purposeful intent, you can manifest your desires and create profound changes in your life. Remember, the universe responds to the energy you put out, so make sure your intent is aligned with your true desires and highest good. With practice and dedication, you’ll find that your ability to harness the power of intent becomes second nature, transforming your magical practice and your life.

Embrace the power of your intent and watch as your magical journey unfolds with greater clarity, purpose, and success.

[reasonsforhope]

Note: Reasons to Be Cheerful has had weirdly huge formatting issues for the past six or so months, so if that version is a mess, this link should work better.

"Florida Power & Light Company (FPL), the Sunshine State’s largest power utility, employs all the people you might expect: electricians, lineworkers, mechanical engineers — and a few you might not. For over 40 years, the company has kept a team of wildlife biologists on staff. Their task? Monitoring the giant carnivorous reptiles that reside in one of the state’s nuclear power plants. 

Saving the American Crocodile

What sounds like a low-budget creature feature is actually a wildly successful conservation story. It goes like this: In 1975, the shy and reclusive American crocodile was facing extinction. Over-hunting and habitat decline caused by encroaching development had pushed its numbers to a record low. By 1975, when it was listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act, there were only 200 to 300 left. 

Three years later, in 1978, workers at the Turkey Point nuclear power plant in Homestead, Florida happened upon something that must have made them gasp: a crocodile nest along one of the plant’s 5,900-acre “cooling canals.” Rather than drive the crocs away — perhaps the easiest solution — FPL hired a team of biologists and implemented a Crocodile Management Plan. Its goal was unconventional: provide a suitable habitat for the crocs within the workings of the nuclear power plant, allowing both to coexist.  

Over the course of the next 30 years, FPL’s wildlife biologists monitored nests, tagged hatchlings and generally created a hospitable environment for the reptiles. As it turned out, the plant’s cooling canals provided an ideal habitat: drained earth that never floods on which to lay eggs directly adjacent to water. Over the years, more and more crocs made the cooling canals home. By 1985, the nests at Turkey Point were responsible for 10 percent of American crocodile hatchlings in South Florida. In 2007, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service downgraded the American crocodile’s status from endangered to threatened, singling out FPL for its efforts. 

The program continues to this day. To date, biologists have tagged some 7,000 babies born at the plant. In 2021, there were a record-setting 565 crocodile hatchlings at the Turkey Point facility. 

"Reconciliation Ecology"

Turkey Point’s efforts are an example of what is known in the conservation world as “reconciliation ecology.” Rather than create separate areas where nature or animals can thrive in isolation from humans, reconciliation ecology suggests that we can blend the rich natural world with the world of human activity. Michael Rosenzweig, an emeritus professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Arizona, was a leading force in establishing this concept. The author of Win-Win Ecology: How the Earth’s Species can Survive in the Midst of Human Enterprise, Rosenzweig has pointed out that although human encroachment has typically been considered a threat to biodiversity, the notion that the world must be either “holy” or “profane,” ecologically speaking, is simply not true.  

“In addition to its primary value as a conservation tool, reconciliation ecology offers a valuable social byproduct,” writes Rosenzweig in his first chapter. “It promises to reduce the endless bickering and legal wrangling that characterize environmental issues today.”

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022. Article continues below. All headings added by me for added readability.

Dr. Madhusudan Katti, an associate professor in the Department of Forestry and Environmental Resources at North Carolina State University, was inspired by Rosenzweig when he did his postdoc at Arizona State. Katti has now been in the field of reconciliation ecology for two decades and teaches classes on the subject. “To me it’s finding solutions to reconciling human development with biodiversity conservation,” Katti says.

This common ground between development and conservation can be consciously planned, like FPL managing a crocodile habitat at a nuclear power plant or the state-sponsored vertical gardens and commercial farms on high-rise buildings in Singapore. Other examples include the restoration of the coral reef around an undersea restaurant in Eilat, Israel, or recent legislation in New York City requiring patterned glass on high-rise buildings, making windows more visible to migratory birds. Other planned examples of reconciliation ecology can be more individually scaled: a rooftop garden in an urban setting, modifying your garden to earn a “backyard bird habitat” certification from the Audubon Society, or even just mowing your lawn less often...

Reconciliation Ecology: Nature's Already Doing It Without Us

But there are countless examples of “accidental” incidents of reconciliation ecology, as well. One of Katti’s favorites is the kit fox of California’s San Joaquin Valley. “The kit fox was one of the very first species listed on the Endangered Species Act,” Katti says. Its decline was caused by habitat loss through agricultural and industrial development, as well as the extermination of the gray wolf population, which led to an increase in coyotes. So kit foxes adapted and moved to new habitats. One of these was the city of Bakersfield, California.

“Bakersfield, surrounded by oil pumps, would be the last place you’d expect to find an endangered species,” Katti says. But researchers think kit foxes have migrated to Bakersfield because they actually have more protection there from predators like coyotes and bobcats. “The kit foxes have figured out that if they can tolerate the human disturbance and live with people, then they are safer from all these other predators,” he says. 

Living in the city has led to some interesting behavioral changes. In the wild, for instance, a female kit fox gives birth to her young and raises them by herself in a den. But in the city, researchers have observed multiple females raising their litters together in the same den. “It’s like a form of cooperative breeding,” Katti says. “That wouldn’t happen in the wild.” ...

The Big Picture: How We Think about Conservation

Reconciliation Ecology isn’t just we humans welcoming animals like crocodiles and foxes into our environments, though. It’s also living with nature in a way that most Western societies haven’t done since the Enlightenment. “In recent years, there’s been a recognition that the ‘fortress conservation’ model — keeping nature separated from humans and not thinking of or valuing human-inhabited landscapes — those ideas are outdated,” says Katti.

In fact, in Katti’s classes on reconciliation ecology, he embraces the notion of reconnecting people with their land if they have been unjustly separated from it. “The term reconciliation also applies to all the colonial legacies where both nature and people have been harmed,” Katti says. “For Indigenous communities, the harm done to ecosystems, it’s happened together. So you can talk about addressing both. That’s where a lot of my thinking is at the moment.” 

A hopeful version of this sort of reconciliation is happening in California where colleagues of Katti’s who are tribal members are re-introducing “tribal burns” in some areas. Controlled burns have been a part of many Indigenous cultures for millenia, both as a way to prevent devastating forest fires, but also to encourage the growth of certain plants like hazel that are used for basket-weaving and other crafts. 

“The notion that people don’t belong there and ‘let nature take care of itself’ doesn’t really work,” Katti says. “That’s the legacy of Western European Enlightenment thinking — a divide between human and nature. That is a real faulty view of nature. People have been part of the ecosystem forever.”

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022

[withahappyrefrain]

"For someone who hates me, you're not pulling away."

Feels like this was MADE for Jake!

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," you muttered, praying your sunglasses would conceal what you were really looking at.

It seemed like a higher being was out to personally spite you. Because not only were you being forced to spend the whole day with the guy you hated,

He looked fucking hot without a shirt.

Of course he did. It wouldn't be fair if he had a physical flaw, the universe had decided it so.

It was supposed to be a bonding experience, pilots versus mechanics. Why was beyond you, considering you actually liked everyone in your current squadron.

Well, except one pilot. A blonde pilot. A cocky pilot. A pilot who thought the sun rose for them personally to shine a light on their ass. A pilot who had become the bane of your existence.

"Hey Rosie!" You ignored the nickname (all because you wore a fucking red bandana) he insists on calling you, turning to your coworkers instead.

"Your not so secret admirer has arrived," your coworker Nicole giggled.

"Please don't remind me. I already have a headache from him and the game hasn't even started," your index fingers rubbed your temples in a vain effort to soothe the dull ache that came from Jake Seresin.

"Well don't look now but he's coming your way," and with that Nicole walked away, no doubt to go flirt with Bob.

"Hey Rosie, looking pretty good," he pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, making it clear he was looking at you.

"You're going to get burnt with all that baby oil, Seresin," you stared at your phone, not wanting to make eye contact. Or to look at his broad chest.

"Aww, you care about me." He was close. Too close. You could see the hair on his broad chest.

"The same way one cares about a dying mosquito," you took a step away, hoping it would deter him.

Jake has the audacity to chuckle, "You're funny Rosie. Why don't we make this game a little more interesting?"

You raised your eyebrows in mocked surprise, "You're actually going to show good sportsmanship? I'm impressed Seresin, miracles really do come true!"

If your comebacks deter him, he doesn't show it, which is honestly the worst part. No matter what you say, it doesn't drive him away. No, it has the opposite effect, encouraging him to continue to try and interact with you!

Fucking Seresin.

"Nah, but God, you're real cute Rosie," he has that stupid smirk on his face, the one you hate so much. His perfectly white teeth are showing as he oozes Hollywood charm. It's the smirk that makes you briefly consider continuing to chat.

"What do you want Seresin?" You grumble, looking down at the sand. The warmth you felt washing all over your body was clearly the sun, nothing (or no one) else.

"Why don't we make a bet?"

"What are you, twelve?"

Again, he chuckled, as if he found your remarks amusing rather than insulting, "C'mon Rosie, there must be something you want."

"For you to leave me alone." If you had looked up from kicking the sand, you would have seen the assured look on his face fall, his brows knitted together in worry, the corners of his lips turning downward.

But you didn't, giving him time to remask, "Alright Rosie, if y'all win, I'll leave ya alone."

The offer made your head shot up, "And if your team wins?"

His grin widens, "You know me Rosie, I'm a simple man." Lies. "There's not too much I want, just one thing really."

"Just name it Seresin."

"A kiss."

He couldn't be serious. He was.

But your crew had prepared for this game. Nicole would certainly be able to distract Bob, was the dagger's dark horse. You felt good about your chances.

So you shook on it.

Which is how two hours later, you ended up in the parking lot, pressing Jake against his stupid Jeep Wrangler, your lips on his, hands tangled in his stupidly soft hair.

"For someone who claims they hate me, you're not pulling away," He murmurs, victory written smugly across his face.

"Shut up and kiss me Seresin."

"Anything for you Rosie."

[torchwood-99]

Eowyn and Gothic Horror

I've ranted about the interpretation that Eowyn's rejection of gender roles was a symptom of her sickness, caused only by Grima's manipulations. An interpretation that doesn't hold to either Gandalf's speech in the Houses of Healing, when he specifies how the liberties denied to Eowyn and allowed to Eomer and her male peers played a crucial role in her depression, or when we see how Eowyn was really vindicated in her decision to ride to battle by her victory over the Witch King. A victory that wins her incredible renown and respect.

I think this reading comes about because people see the significance of Grima's contribution to Eowyn's despair, and think he is the sole source of it.

But Eowyn was not dissatisfied with her role and her enforced position in the house because of Grima's manipulations. She didn't rail against sexism because Grima played with her head and "poisoned" her traditionally feminine role for her.

Grima was able to prey on Eowyn, manipulate her and drive her to despair, because of the sexism that forced Eowyn to remain stuck in the house.

Look at the speech Gandalf gives Eomer about Eowyn's sufferings. The very first thing he mentions is the fact that Eowyn was denied the freedoms and opportunities Eomer had. The suffering that follows stems from that first initial injustice.

Because of that first injustice, Eowyn was rendered vulnerable, and Grima was able to exploit that. That isolation, that limited freedom, that unhappiness about her lack of choices, left her free game for Grima to take an already bad situation, and make it far worse.

Thinking about Eowyn's experience in Meduseld, what the impact of being confined to the domestic sphere did to her, and what is left her vulnerable to, makes me think of Gothic horror, and the role of sexism and domesticity in that genre too.

Eowyn's situation before the novels is that of a classic Gothic heroine. A fair, beautiful woman, trapped inside a decaying house, and preyed on by an awful monster, who hungers after her beauty and longs to possess her. Or else, destroy her.

Domestic settings and isolation are pretty crucial themes in the gothic genre, and for that reason it has historically been seen as a woman's genre. It taps into a pretty universal fear of what happens when home ceases to be a safe space, a fear that historically, has a particularly great resonance for women.

Whereas traditionally home is a refuge and respite for men from the world, the home is the woman's only true acceptable sphere. And yet even there she is subordinate. Therefore, she is vulnerable. With no place in the outside world, she has no escape, no respite, no refuge. If home becomes an evil, she is trapped. And because she has no place in the social sphere, she has no voice either. She is invisible, she is overlooked, her sufferings and her contributions are passed over,

Eowyn is isolated. Eowyn is vulnerable. Eowyn is overlooked. And because Eowyn is isolated and vulnerable and overlooked, Grima is able to get his hooks into her and drive her to despair. She is a wild animal, trammelled and caught in a hutch, a predator's helpless prey. But Grima didn't put Eowyn in the hutch. Eowyn was already there. Grima just took advantage of that.

Even after Grima is gone, Meduseld is still a place Eowyn longs to escape, and while its evil is purged and she does return, it is only for a short while. Grima's defeat is not enough to make Meduseld a place where Eowyn can find real happiness or fulfilment. On its own, it still represents a role for Eowyn that she wishes to move beyond.

The healing counterpoint to Eowyn's gothic castle of horrors, the hutch she was caught in, is in escape, and in a return to nature.

Eowyn's entire romance with Faramir takes place within the gardens of the Houses of Healing, where we see Eowyn start to recover from her ordeal. It takes place on the open, in the garden, on the ramparts, with much notice given to the sky and the sun and the elements around them.

(Also, the Houses of Healing themselves are not a domestic setting, but a public one, and there we see women working alongside men and holding authority.)

Eowyn's happy ending, her great escape, climaxes with her decision to go with Faramir to Ithilien.

Ithilien is the exact opposite of a hutch. It's descriptions are filled with natural imagery, and is known as the Garden of Gondor. It is a place for growth and fresh starts. A place of freedom. A place for a wild thing.

When Faramir suggests that he and Eowyn live in Ithilien, he reasserts again and again that they will go there if it is Eowyn's will. Both Tolkien and Faramir put emphasis on the importance of Eowyn's will, and Eowyn's right to freedom of movement.

In his plans for their future, Faramir talks of "us" and "we", removing the separation between men (belonging to the social sphere) and women (belonging to the domestic), and speaks of Ithilien as a shared dwelling place for both of them. Faramir only distinguishes between himself and Eowyn when he puts importance on Eowyn's will, and at the end, on Eowyn's influence.

At the close of his speech, Faramir says all things will grow with joy in Ithilien, if Eowyn is there. Returning Ithilien to its former glory, allowing it to bloom once more, is to become Faramir's life's work, and still it is Eowyn's influence he puts centre stage. Far from being kept confined to the domestic sphere, relegated to being Faramir's home support while he dominates the rehabilitation of Ithilien, Faramir places Eowyn's work and Eowyn's significance at the heart of their future together.

Eowyn goes from being shut in the house, where everything around her was decaying and falling to ruin, to being freed to stand in the heart of nature, where there is a chance for influence, growth, and fresh starts.

[bruhnze]

Personal Records 2 - Ona Battle x Lucy Bronze

Part 1 here.

Thank you to: anon , anon, anon, anon, anon for inspirations.

Summary: This is in an alternative universe where Ona and Lucy are not footballers. Lucy is a personal trainer, Ona is a buisnesswoman.

Wordcount: 13K of wordsss (big big one) And sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations :( semi proofread!

Warnings: Minors DNI, little bit of angst, suggestive + smutty scenes. A bit of bickering back and forth, Ona being the ultimate spoilt little bitch, but i promise she gets nicer eventualy, at the end of the day she's just a hurt little baby 🥺

Last sentence part 1: ‘’Not here’’ Lucy said as she broke the kiss, ‘’come home with me’’.

Personal Records 2.

Tuesday night – streets of London

They stepped outside and Lucy nudged for Ona to come with her.

‘’No cab?’’ Ona asked.

Lucy shook her head amused and walked until they stood infront of a small ally way, ‘’in here, come’’.

‘’Ew, smells like piss’’ Ona said, scrunching up her nose.

Lucy shook her head with an amuzed chuckle.

A few meters into the ally way Lucy opened the garage door.

‘’Don’t tell me this is your house’’ Ona said without leaving the disgust out of her voice.

‘’Ofcourse not princess’’ Lucy laughed and pulled Ona inside. The Catalan was met with a big dark space.

Lucy flicked on a light, a few cars and a few motorcycles that were standing around got lit up, but besides that the space was pretty empty besides that.

‘’Are these yours?’’ Ona said.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve, ‘’no, the business owners in this street came together to rent this garage so the parking spot infront of our businesses were empty and also, parking there costs way more than sharing this’’. She walked further into the garage and pushed a button somewhere, on the other side of the space started to appear light. A garage door rolled open.

‘’So which is yours?’’.

Lucy grinned as she dug through a cabin, she pulled out an old helmet, she was pleased that she had remembered leaving it here after she was gifted a new one by a client.

‘’Here ya go’’ Lucy said as she handed the dusty thing to Ona.

Ona grimaced ‘’I’m not wearing—wait, do you drive a motorcycle!’’.

‘’You bet’’, Lucy grinned as she took her tank top out of her gym bag, ‘’here I’ll wipe it down for you’’ she offered as she took the helmet back. Ona shook her head, what was this woman thinking, wiping dust away with a sweaty shirt, as if that made anything better.

Just as she thought things couldn’t get worse Lucy spoke again, ‘’you'll need to wear both our bags, because otherwise we won’t fit’’. Ona grumbled, but she couldn’t contradict the woman, as it was a true fact that it would be hard for her to hold onto Lucy if there was a big bag inbetween them.

‘’I can just take a cab and meet you there’’ Ona said.

Lucy laughed, ‘’I won’t give you my address, so if you want to come, you need to come with me’’.

‘’You’re just making that up to control what I do’’ Ona said, ‘’forcing me to come on a motorcycle’’.

‘’No one is forcing anything, you can go home you know’’ Lucy grinned, ‘’but by your excitement when you learned I have a motorcycle I think you don’t think it is as bad as you make it seem’’.

‘’You talk too much, we could’ve been halfway through London an hour ago’’ Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’and you know I already got your address’’.

‘’What the hell?’’ Lucy said laughingly as she looked at Ona weird, ‘’do you have private investigators working for you?’’.

Ona shook her head and chuckled, ‘’let’s go Bronze’’.

Lucy nodded and walked over to the bike she owned, on it layed her leather jacket and hanging from the handlebar she took her own helmet.

Ona swallowed hard as Lucy put her bag down and swinged her jacket on, ´´isn´t it too hot for that´´ she remarked.

The Catalan thought Lucy looked incredibly attractive like this, she wore white sneakers, jeans, a white T and the brown leather jacket, but what Ona maybe liked most were the little nose ring and the gold chain the woman wore.

´´You calling me hot?’’ Lucy asked with a grin, ‘’come on, get over here’’.

The Catalan rolled her eyes as she walked over to Lucy and her bike, ‘’big talk for such a whiny little bitch’' Ona said. She caught a little glimpse of a smile before Lucy put the helmet on her head. When she had it on, she reached out to help.

‘’I am not a little bitch’’ Lucy said as she tightened the chin strap of the helmet, ‘’I can squat you two times’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’exactly, you’re a little bitch because you get your worthiness out of made up achievements’’.

A chuckle sounded from Lucy’s helmet, ‘’made up, ha ha, those achievements are very much real’’ she turned to Ona, ‘’and all earned by myself, from scratch’’ she emphasized the last part.

‘’Sure I had an advantage’’ Ona said rolling her eyes, ‘’but I still put the work in to use it to the fullest’’.

Lucy took her bag from the floor and put it on Ona’s shoulder, opposite of her own bag. ‘’I’m sure anyone in your position would be able to build a business’’ Lucy said.

 Ona shook her head amused, ‘’no, there’s actually living proof that that’s not true, my brother parties in Ibiza all year round’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’oh yeah? Well, I bet he is way chiller to hang around with’’, she said as she pushed her motor cycle off the standard ‘’or is he a stuck up bitch too?’’.

Ona couldn’t believe her ears, with any other person she would’ve already have come up with six different plans to ruin their lives, but with this woman here, her urge to get on that bike and sit against her only got bigger and bigger with every comment.

Lucy walked with her bike to the garage door she had just opened, ‘’put of the light, will ya’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, getting her to carry the bags, letting her put off the lights, what an annoying bitch.

But instead of complaining she went to the light switch and flicked it off, and started walking back to Lucy, because she wanted needed to get to the bitches house a.s.a.p.

The English woman took place on her bike and with her tiptoes she guided her vehicle outside. Ona quickened her pace, afraid Lucy was leaving her.

Lucy turned and stood now sideways infront of the garage, Ona recognized by her eyes that she was grinning, even though she couldn’t see her mouth, ‘’what?’’ she said snappily.

‘’On the inside of the door is a button, hit that and quickly go under the door’’ Lucy instructed after which she shut her visor.

‘’No way’’ Ona said as she looked around to spot the button, but she hit it and ducked to go under the door, anyways. It was less dramatic then she’d expected, the door went down fairly slow, but she didn’t like that Lucy made her do all this stuff.

The loud sound of a starting engine filled Ona’s ears, even though they were covered by the helmet it was deafening. She stepped closer but hesitated when Lucy started revving. Lucy turned her head, ‘’HOP ON’’ she yelled.

..

Ona sat on the back of the motorcycle with the two bags crisscrossed on her back. She felt badass as she held on to Lucy who propelled them through the dim streets of London. Ona would never admit it but she was mesmerized by Lucy's scent that hung in the helmet, it smelt like her hair did. The only thing she didn´t like about this little adventure was Lucy´s whimpery driving, she followed the rules perfectly and didn´t even go the speed limit, she went slower.

Lucy slowed down and Ona was pleased to see they were in a -nicer then she’d expected- part of London. Ona knew this area, the houses were old, beautiful, but old, in her opinion you should only buy a house here if you the funds to renovate properly, otherwise it was a waste.

The building they stopped infront looked nice, it was well taken care of. Lucy put her feet on the ground and got her phone from her pocket, in a few seconds a garage door started to open.

They stayed seated like that for a couple of seconds, Ona sat not knowing what to do, until Lucy tapped her thigh. She quickly -but carefully- got of the bike and saw Lucy rolling the vehicle inside while she kept sitting on it.

..

After Lucy had opened the front door the pair stepped inside.

‘’Ahh, I know how you know my address’’ Lucy chuckled to herself as she walked through the hallway and saw the four shoe boxes standing on top of eachother, ‘’I texted it to you’’.

‘’I applaud you Sherlock, I must say I’m intimidated by your attention to detail’’ Ona said as she took of her shoes and walked further into the house as if she knew the way.

Lucy rolled her eyes ‘’yeah welcome in’’ she sarcastically said.

Ona quickly inspected the place, she was surprised to see the same style used here as in the gym, which meant it was Lucy’s taste. She didn’t like that she liked Lucy’s house, that the woman had a beautiful and properly renovated house in the middle of London, with a garden. It would get to close to being relationship material, and she didn’t participated in those anymore. Luckily the place had a shit view and the kitchen was horrific, so it wasn’t like Lucy was perfect.

The Catalan turned back around after her brief inspection and was met with a smiling Lucy, ‘’No snarky comments from property princess?’’ Lucy taunted as she walked to the other side of the kitchen island Ona was standing at, ‘’does that mean she approves?’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’who did your renovation?’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’oh it was very expensive, a very skillful person worked on this’’.

‘’One person?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Well, they had a bit of help here and there, but mostly one person yes, they did it in evening hours’’ Lucy said, ‘’is it done well?’’.

‘’Yes’’ Ona said as she nodded, ‘’horrific kitchen though’’.

‘’what wrong with the kitchen?’’ Lucy snapped.

‘’It’s ugly’’.  ‘’I can see that it was placed with good craftsmanship, but it does not fit this house’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’waste of potential’’.

Lucy let out a breathy chuckle, ‘’well if you ever need someone to do your renovations, you can always ask me, but I guess I’d leave the decoration choices over to someone else then’’.

‘’No I like the way you did your gym, and the rest of your place, what I have seen, is allright too, just the kitchen’’ Ona said as she tried not to imagine Lucy in a tank top slamming walls, laying pipes or anything else that only she could make look sexy. Damn, did she really renovate this on her own.

‘’Thank you’’ Lucy said, ‘’that was my first time ever designing anything, but I learned a lot from it, like-

Ona cut her off, ‘’the four showers’’.

Lucy looked at her and tilted her head, ‘’yeah’’.

‘’You would’ve made the shower part smaller and put the lockers in the dressing rooms?’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’wow, that’s actually a great idea’’.

‘’You didn’t think that?’’.

‘’No I was only thinking that it was weird to have 4 dressing rooms with 4 showers, while we have 2 gym rooms, which are only used for one-on-one or one-on-two sessions’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’well it is what it is now’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Lucy said as she opened a cupboard, ‘’water?’’ she asked, ‘’or anything else?’’.

‘’Water is fine, sparkling if you have it, otherwise flat will do’’.

As they were both standing with a glass of sparkling water in their hands Lucy broke the silence, ‘’would you know the complete layout of this house right now, like in your head?’’.

‘’With upstairs too?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Mhmm’’.

‘’If you haven’t done any crazy wall changes I think I do’’.

‘’Have you sold in this area?’’.

Ona nodded, ‘’I did, but only because I had a client who wanted to buy something here, I wouldn’t do it voluntarily’’.

‘’Do you not like the neighborhood?’’ Lucy asked before taking another sip.

The Catalan shook her head, ‘’buildings are way to close to eachother for such low buildings, you have 3 floors, no view, from every window you see brick’’.

‘’Or my garden’’.

‘’Okay from the living room you look on to your post stamp of green’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’at least I have a garden’’.

Ona closed her eyes and thought, ‘’I have 7, no 8 gardens, I think’’ ‘’I don’t know if I like my garden in Italia or Vilassar de Mar the most’’.

‘’Oh right’’ Lucy said, completely humbled, she almost forgot the reason this woman was they way she was.

‘’I didn’t think a garden in London was worth it’’ Ona said, ‘’rather had the view’’.

‘’I see’’ Lucy nodded at the woman as if she didn’t just had said the most out of touch thing she’d ever heard.

‘’But feel free to give me a tour upstairs’’ Ona said as it was taking too long for her liking, ‘’if you want my predictions, I think you don’t use the highest floor much, one room with junk, one room with laundry and one with a guest room, then I think you have turned two bedrooms in one for your own bedroom, with an on-suite bathroom’’ she eyed Lucy up ‘’and you are crazy enough to have the remaining room, not as an office’’ she started Lucy in the eyes, ‘’but as a home gym’’.

Lucy’s jaw dropped open, ‘’that is not even one of the skills that a real estate agent or architect has’’ she said in disbelieve.

‘’This one has’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’so am I right?’’.

‘’Yeah, well, I have two guest rooms, but they are on the highest floor, but everything else is correct, how did you do that?’’

Ona shook her head as her sight fell on a couple of family photo’s, ‘’ofcourse 2 guest rooms, for your family’’. ‘’but where do you keep your junk then?’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’in closets in the guestrooms’’.

‘’Fair enough’’ Ona said, ‘’and the home gym was true’’.

‘’If I don’t feel like driving to the office, I have one at home’’ she offered.

‘’Crazy’’ Ona remarked.

‘’Dedicated’’.

..

Ona pushed Lucy against the wall as soon as they had both walked up the stairs for a ‘tour of upstairs’.

Air escaped Lucy’s chest as she hadn’t expected Ona to make this sudden move, ‘’jeez’’ she breathed out, ‘’give a girl a warning’’.

A dirty smirk appeared on Ona’s mouth, ‘’you’re taking too long’’.

Lucy used her strength and easily flipped them, making her the one pinning Ona against the wall.

Ona leaned in to kiss the English woman but she leaned back, ‘’taking too long for what princess?’’ she teased, ‘’you are the one hindering our tour’’.

‘’You’’ Ona huffed out, ‘’need to stop talking’’.

‘’And do what?’’ Lucy said as she let her lips ghost over Ona’s.

The Catalan squirmed as she tried to catch the other woman’s mouth with her own, a frustrated huff of air left her nose when she felt Lucy pull back after the slightest touch. Just this brush of their lips made Ona unable to think clear anymore, Lucy’s soft lips, the way her sent surrounded her as they stood so close. The strong, warm hands on her biceps, pushing her against the white wall, she couldn’t take it anymore.

‘’Lucy’’ she said, trying to sound as pulled together as possible, ‘’just kiss me’’.

The English woman smiled, ‘’I don’t know if you deserve it’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’hurt by a couple of stupid jokes?’’.

‘’No’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’I tend to share the bed with more, better behaved woman’’.

The Catalan relaxed her muscles and stopped fighting the restraint.

Lucy loosened her grip on the woman, a little thinking she had said something wrong, but more curious about what Ona was going to say.

‘’Well, then I better go’’ Ona said reserved, ‘’I don't adapt, people adapt to me’’.

Lucy grinned and leaned back against Ona, not holding her tight as she wanted to give the woman the opportunity to go if she really wished, ‘’I don’t know’’ she whispered in Ona’s ear, ‘’wouldn’t you say please if it would mean I’d kiss you?’’ she traced her bottom lip along Ona’s neck. Then she moved to the other side of Ona’s head, ‘’just one simple word’’ she whispered, ‘’say please and I’ll do what you want’’ with that she placed a line of ever so soft kisses in the shorter woman’s neck, she grinned as she felt the woman get goose bumps.

Lucy pulled back to read Ona’s face, when she recognized she almost had her, she took Ona’s hand and slipped it under her t-shirt, placing it with an open palm on her solid abs, ‘’just one word’’ she said softly, making intense eye contact with the shorter woman.

‘’A la merda’’ Ona grumbled but sighed to oblige, ‘’please kiss me’’ she said with an eyeroll.

‘’See’’ Lucy leaned in, ‘’I’ll teach you right’’ she kissed Ona softly. But Ona didn’t have any of it, she quickly deepened the kiss and pushed them off the wall.

‘’Bedroom’’ she said as she broke the kiss for as short as possible, before crashing in to the English woman again.

Lucy lifted Ona with ease and carried her towards her bed.

She climbed on it with Ona still around her and laid the woman on her back in the middle of the bed with her on top.

Their kiss was filthy, their open mouths mushed against each other as if it were their first meal after 20 years of starvation, Lucy couldn’t help but groan at the way she tasted, she could kiss her for hours.

Ona’s hands started wondering below Lucy’s t-shirt, she pulled on it, signaling she needed her to take it off.

When Lucy pulled away to quickly take it off, Ona took her own blouse off.  

In their bras they continued their make out session, Ona’s hand found Lucy’s head and she buried her fingers in her dark strands of hair.

The heat Lucy had experienced during the sex they had in the showers not even an hour ago was back, she had wanted to take Ona home to have her way with her properly, the way she’s was acting like such a fucking brat was just begging to be fucked good.

 Lucy broke the kiss and shifted her attention to Ona's throat, sternum and collar bone, marking her with open mouthed kisses, ‘’have you ever been fucked with a strap?’’ Lucy asked against Ona’s skin.

It took a few seconds before Ona answered, ‘’yeah, why’re you asking, just because I’m young?’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’no, age has nothing to do with this and you’re not even that young’’ Lucy said as a grin tugged on her mouth because she was about get Ona crazy, ‘’you’re just acting as if you’ve never had a good fuck’’.

Ona’s mouth dropped open, ‘’I have’’ she huffed.

‘’Oh yeah? And ours didn’t count by the way’’ Lucy smirked, ‘’or did you mean by that stiff rake Evelyn?’’, ‘’did she make you cum as fast as me?’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, but secretly this talk from Lucy turned her on immensely, ‘’yes’’.

‘’Yeah did she make you cum on her tongue just as easily as I did’’ Lucy got closer to Ona, ‘’I can’t believe her being that good’’ she emphasized her words by rolling her hips.

‘’Oh please’’ Ona rolled her eyes again, ‘’you’re not that good either, and you also used your fingers’’.

‘’Didn’t have to’’ Lucy simply said, ‘’that was just for my own fun’’ she added in a low voice.

With those words Ona could literally feel a pulsation between her legs, fuck she needed that woman, and she needed it now.

‘’Why are you being such a bitch?’’ Ona asked as Lucy was hovering over her, her hips sensually grinding in to her.

‘’Why are you being such a bitch?’’ Lucy said as she was being straddled by Ona, crossing her legs around her.

‘’No you are nice by heart, I can tell you act’’ Ona said in a thoughtful voice and with her gaze on the English woman's eyes as if she could read all of her thoughts.

‘’Well I wont let people walk all over me, if you act like a brat I’ll respond to you that way’’ she said, narrowing her eyes.

‘’Why bother if you don’t like my attitude’’ Ona said, also narrowing her eyes.

‘’Your hot’’ Lucy simply said, ‘’why do you bother?’’.

‘’Same reason’’ Ona answered with a smirk.

Lucy rolled her eyes, ‘’you can’t even say it out loud? It’s a shame that pretty little body of yours is filled with such a shit personality’’.

Ona rolled her eyes as well, "I can say it, you are hot’’ she stated, "but what would the difference be?".

Lucy grinned, "yeah you wouldn’t know, would you’’ she lowered herself to whisper in Ona’s ear ‘’but it’s actually decent human interaction".

Ona huffed out air in frustration, "I don’t know why you annoy me so much".

"Because I don’t take your shit".

Ona shook her head amused, ‘’no it’s not that, it was rhetorical I do know why’’.

‘’Why then’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I said it in the showers, but I get you’re slow so I’ll repeat myself, I can’t temper my physical attraction towards you’’ Ona said, ‘’but I know the reason, it’s because I haven’t had sex in a long time and you’re just the first hot person I have encountered in a long time’’.

Lucy looked at Ona weird, ‘’you-

Ona interrupted her, ‘’don’t tell me I haven’t been clear with you, and I thought we were on the same page, hell I even thought you were even more amazing after you felt the same way as me and agreed’’.

Lucy broke out in a chuckle, ‘’I do agree, I would never date someone like you, I just, I expected someone I have sex with to be nice to me, but I guess that’s not the way you see things’’.

If Ona would be completely honest with herself, she knew that she was just being a bitch to sabotage their chances of ever getting closer then to just sleep with eachother. She couldn’t develop feelings, she never wanted another relationship in her life, people just screw you over.

She sighed deeply and uncrossed her legs around Lucy, giving her space to sit away, which she did. Ona pushed herself up and sat against the headboard ‘’I feel like we need to set some ground rules, because I would like for us to continue sleeping with eachother and I want to keep training with you too’’.

‘’Yeah good idea’’, lucy said with a grin, but she swallowed the comment she was about to make as she appreciated Ona’s normal communication, and finally said a sentence without a snarky comment.

Ona sighed, ‘’what did you want to say?’’.

‘’Okay’’ lucy said, ‘’it’s a bit oversimplified, but I wanted to propose’’ she shook her head with a laugh ‘’you are nice to me and I’ll fuck you’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona simply agreed after a few seconds of silence, ‘’deal’’.

‘’Okay, that’s it?’’ Lucy asked surprised.

‘’I just want to have sex with you’’ Ona replied, ‘’I can be nice to you’’.

A small cheeky smile appeared on Lucy’s face.

Ona rolled her eyes and pushed Lucy’s face. The taller woman pretended Ona had pushed her over with the small motion and dropped on her back, pulling Ona with her. The Catalan chuckled as she laid on top of Lucy, ‘’I think you looked badass riding your motor’’ Ona said, as her first act of niceness.

A big smile took over Lucy’s face, ‘’see, this is so much better, I already enjoy this a hundred times more’’.

Ona rolled her eyes but laughed, ‘’but you drove a bit like a pussy’’.

‘’I knew it was to good to be true’’ Lucy said with a smile as she rolled them both over and started kissing Ona’s neck, making her squirm and scream of the ticklishness.

..

Wednesday 02:00 am – Ona’s penthouse

As Ona was laying in her big bed in her penthouse, after dealing with the stupid joked Sophia had attacked her with, she caught herself smiling at the ceiling. She shook her head and pulled herself together, trying not to thing about the way Lucy was so amazing Lucy, and go to sleep.

..

Thursday evening – Ona’s penthouse

Ona had ordered takeout, but Sophia had ditched her last minute for a date she wanted to go on. Ona didn't want to eat alone, and to be fair, it would be a waste to have to throw away half of it, so she had texted Lucy explaining her situation.

@ Lucy: aw did she leave you alone to get laid

@ Ona Batlle: yeah

@ Lucy: why does it sound a little familiar

@ Ona Batlle: ha ha ha

@ Ona Batlle: now do you have dinner plans or not?

@ Lucy: what happened to our 'being nice' agreement

@ Ona Batlle: Lucy do you want to eat dinner with me?

Ona sended the text with a heavy eyeroll, hoping Lucy could feel it at the other end of the screen.

@ Lucy: you rolled your eyes didn't you 😂

She chuckled at her screen.

@ Ona Batlle: maybe

@ Lucy: but sure, i'll eat dinner with you

@ Ona Batlle: do you want me to ask if valet can handle motorcycles?

@ Lucy: oh that would be nice, saves me from those ungodly high rates they charge for parking in your street

@ Ona Batlle: yeah it is expensive, okay i'll text u in a sec

..

Thursday, a bit later that evening – Ona’s penthouse

''And how did that parking garage look'' Ona chuckled as she let Lucy in.

''Good'' Lucy said as she took her jacket and shoes off, ''there were so many cool cars in there''.

''I still think it's funny to hire someone for valet who doesn't have motorcycle licence''.

''But you expected it''.

''Yeah I was thinking about the fact nobody in this building owns a motorcycle, and then I thought, oh would they be able to put it away for you''.

''I had to follow the valet boy who walked me to your parking spot'' Lucy said as they walked into the living space, ''do you not have a car or something?''.

''No I take cabs everywhere'' Ona said with a shrug.

Lucy nodded, ''but you can drive?''.

Ona smiled, ''cars, yes'' ''motorcycles, no''.

..

Friday morning – Bronze Fitness Forge

They had managed to get through the gym session without breaking professionality, okay, maybe there had been some lingering touches here and there, but even with the massage they had both behaved.

Now Ona was done with drying off from her shower and walked back in to the dressing room wrapped in her towel.

Just as she undid herself from it, wanting to put her underwear on, someone knocked on the door on the gym side, she quickly pulled the towel back around her, ‘’yeah?’’.

Lucy opened the door, ‘’you forgot your shoes again’’ she said as she stepped in with the trainers, ‘’this is going to be- ‘’ she lagged as she saw Ona standing there, covered in nothing more then a towel, ‘’a tradition, is it?’’ she finished her sentence.

Ona chuckled and stepped closer to Lucy, ‘’oh shit, sorry for the inconvenience’’.

Lucy laughed breathily as she handed Ona the shoes, ‘’no worries’’.

‘’How can I pay you for your troubles’’ Ona asked whispering as she pulled Lucy closer with her shoes the woman was still holding. She saw Lucy’s chest rising and falling faster as she got closer.

She planted a soft kiss on the taller woman’s lips, ‘’thank you’’ she whispered.

As she wanted to take the shoes form Lucy, who was still holding them, she forgot to keep her elbows on the towel, making the cotton cloth fall to the ground.

‘’Oh eh sorry’’ Lucy said as she removed her hands from the shoes, ‘’I eh-‘’.

Ona chuckled as she dropped the shoes to the ground too, ‘’no worries, you can make it up to me’’ she whispered as she stepped impossibly closer to her, and placed Lucy's hands on her hips.

Lucy lost all composure and kissed Ona greedily.

´´You stay right here and get dressed, mind your business for a sec okay´´ Lucy said after she had got dressed quicker then Ona had ever seen one do before, ´´I need to cancel some appointments´´.

´´I am getting dressed´´ Ona rolled her eyes, ´´you mind your own business´´ she muttered quietly.

´´I am´´ Lucy said as zipped her bag shut, ´´and I’ll see you outside´´.

The door shut when Lucy got out.

Damn what a desperate woman, Ona thought, canceling appointments to get laid.

She quickly texted Sophia that she wouldn´t be there for an undefined period of time.

Then she heard Lucy talking to the secretary, confirming the fact that, the dressing rooms where indeed not soundproof at all.

´´Hey Carla´´.

´´Hey Lucy, what can i--- huh, you’re not in your training clothes?’’.

‘’uh, yeah, I am actually coming to you to call in sick, would you be so kind to call off all my appointments for today’’.

‘’Sick?’’.

Hastily Ona had put on her clothes, she gathered her stuff to throw in her bag and zipped it shut.

‘’Yeah I don’t feel really well’’. Lucy told the secretary.

Ona stormed out of the dressing room, she loved this, what an entertaining day. ‘’MISS BRONZE, I WILL PERSONALLY LET MY PA SEND IN A COMPLAINT ABOUT THIS’’ she said with a raised voice.

Carla and Lucy looked up.

‘’YOU DON’T EVER THROW UP ON A CLIENT, I HAVE NEVER NEVER NEVER IN MY LIFE EXPERIENCED SUCH A DISGUSTING THING!’’

With that Ona disappeared onto the London streets, she giggled to herself as she waited on Lucy.

After a few minutes a voice interrupted Ona’s thoughts and she looked up from her phone. ‘’I hate you, but also thanks, at least it was convincing’’ Lucy said as she walked towards Ona.

Ona looked back at her phone to finish a reply and put it away.

‘’Hate me?’’ she pouted, ‘’I thought we were an acting duo’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’Okay, that was a fun Saturday’’ she admitted.

‘’Right’’ Ona said as she already started walking towards the ally way.

Lucy smiled to herself, at least there was no doubt in how much they both wanted this.

...

Saturday night - Ona's Penthouse

After the encounter on friday morning they had told eachtother, but mostly themselfs, that it wasn't acceptable to skip days of work and that that day would be an exception.

They came to the conclusion that they had to see eachother more so the two hours of fitness could be spend in total sobriety. (Ofcourse🙄) They agreed with eachother that they had managed great that friday morning, it had only gone south when Ona's towel had slipped. So they agreed to never be alone in the lockerroom together.

Two weeks went by with this new dynamics, training sessions stayed professional, but Lucy and Ona regularly met eachother for a release. Usualy it would be at Lucy's place, as Ona had someone staying at hers, but this weekend Sophia was going home to her parents again.

This led to Lucy, this Saturday night, lying next to her in bed.

Ona was convinced she had just had the best sex of her life and was now lying on Lucy's chest with her head, her fingers tracing lines on the personal trainers toned stomach.

In a comfortable silence they stayed like that until Lucy spoke, ''that was maybe the best sex i've had in my life'' she sighed as she kept tracing her fingers along Ona's back.

Ona started chuckling.

''Hey'' Lucy said, poking Ona playfully, ''you were doing so good with being nice, don't laugh at me''.

Ona quickly shook her head, ''no i laughed because i was just thinking the exact same thing''.

"Really?".

"Yeah" Ona sighed, "it's a shame i have to go after next week".

"Where are you headding?" Lucy asked.

"Rome" Ona said, "but only for 2 weeks because after that I have something in Paris and then i need to go to Spain real quick for my fathers birthday, so i combined that with a few deals too and after that Rome again".

"Jezus" Lucy breathed out as she retracted her arm from Ona and strechted "i could never".

Ona shifted a bit, moving her head to the crook of Lucy's neck, burying her head against the warm skin. She smelt the English woman's sweat and instead of being disgusted by it she actually enjoyed it. But she wouldn't ever admit that to anyone, she didn't even admit it to herself.

After a few moments Ona started to doze off.

"It's getting late" Lucy whispered as she felt Ona's breath steadying.

"Mhm" Ona groaned quietly, barely hearable "just stay, you're so comfy".

Lucy pulled the bedsheet over them, "are you sure" she said, gently rubbing Ona's back again.

"Mhmm" Ona smiled, "especially if you do that".

Lucy smiled, she was really starting to develop a soft spot for the Catalan business woman, especially on moments she showed her soft spot. The last two weeks Lucy had learned that the woman was actually very kind. She just went through a lot on a young age, Lucy thought. She had learned Ona donated to multiple charities and when she had met Sophia, the woman had had nothing but kind words about Ona. This made Lucy to believe Ona had just acted the way she did coming from a hurt place, afraid to let anyone close again, probably especially in romantic terms, as she had been cheated on by Evelyn.

But Lucy tried not to think about all that, as a relationship with the Spaniard was impossible, she was only in London once every year.

..

Sunday morning - Ona's penthouse

Ona stirred as she woke up, she frowned when she felt herself laying against a bare woman.

Then her memories of the previous night flooded back, Lucy had stayed over, the first time she had shared a bed, for actual sleeping, with someone in over a year.

She took a deep breath, afraid this was going to be the end of her crush on the musculair woman, no one was hot first thing in the morning. Well, she thought, let's just hope it isn't too off putting.

With that she gently got out of bed and went to the bathroom quietly.

When she came back in to the room, the curtains were open and sun lighted up the woman that was, still, peacefully sleeping on her bed.

Ona was mesmerized, she looked so pretty with her slightly bewilderd hair, so peacefull with her arms up and tucked under her head, so cute with the way her chest rose in a steady pattern, covered by the thin white bedsheet.

She stayed standing there for a few seconds until she was weirded out by herself, she put on her robe and went to the kitchen.

In the kitchen she started to make some tea and scrambled eggs, for herself she made coffee, she was always amazed on how the English just went about their day drinking a cup of tea in the morning, no, she needed some real Spanish coffee to have a good start of the day.

As she was setting the table Lucy walked in, "g'morning" a heavy accented english morning voice sounded.

Ona turned around, "bon día hermosa" she said with a smile, looking at Lucy who had put on her white sportsbra, "i made eggs and tea".

"Wow" Lucy sighed in contendness, "you're really getting the hang of this whole being nice thing".

Ona smiled, the comment didn't even bother her, so she just shrugged and continued setting the table.

Now Lucy was flabbergasted, she almost missed Ona's snarky comments, so she wanted to test her limmits, "what are your plans today?" she asked.

Ona looked up with a smile, "i have none, you?".

"Also none".

"Ever seen London from the Thames?".

"Yes" Lucy said with a smile, "but that was lovely and i'd do it again any day".

"I have a friend who rents out boats"

..

Lucy was amazed when they arrived at the dock, sure she had been on boats, but that was nothing compared to the beauty's in this harbor.

"Ona!" A man called out.

"Ha Gerold, how are you?" Ona asked the man she shook the hand off, "this is Lucy, she owns Bronze Fitness Forge" Ona stated as if her gym was a well known fenomenon.

The man also shook her hand, "nice to meet you Lucy, i'm Gerold, i'm in boats" he laughed, "but i'm sure you could've guessed that".

Lucy laughed, she didn't find the man very funny, but she wanted to be polite.

"Well", the man said, "I'm sending Thomas with you as helmsman for the boat, if i didn't have work i would've come myself" he said in an appoligetic voice.

Ona chuckled, "oh i couldn't ask that of you Gerold, and thank you so much for letting us borrow your own boat".

"Any day Ona!" Gerold said, "my wife and i still think of you often, we're so happy with our house, it's perfect".

"Aw" Ona smiled, "It was perfect for you two, I'm still glad that offer was accepted then".

"Me too", the man said, "well have a good day you two, Thomas is already on the boat".

"Thank you" Ona and Lucy said.

Lucy followed Ona to the boat, she was wearing a white blouse and white top, borrowed from Ona, with her own jeans, she thought the blouse looked nice but she didn´t come close to the way Ona looked. They were wearing matching fits, but colored oposite. The Catalan was wearing a white trouser with a light blue blouse. They also matched with sunglasses, Ona had leant Lucy a pair, letting her choose one she liked from the maybe 100 she had laying in a drawer of her closet.

It made Lucy wonder if she had an entire wardrobe like that in every house she owned.

.

It had been a lovely afternoon sailing on the Thames, the boy who was with them to steer was very nice and mostly stayed in the cockpit.

He had first asked a few times if Ona and Lucy wanted something to drink, but Ona had said nicely that they would get something themselves if they needed anything, she had also encouraged the boy to have a drink himself every now and then if he wanted to.

They had laid on the deck and watched London go by, it was a nice summer day but with the breeze on the water they were glad they had put on longsleeve tops.

Now it was almost dinnertime and the boy was berthing the boat back in it´s spot. Ona had tanked him for coming along ealier, and had slipped him a 100 euro note, eventhough Gerold had told her it was on him, she wanted to give the boy a little something.

A few hours earlier she had planned a dinner in a rooftop restaurant she loved with her phone, sending an email if they had a table left for tonight, which they luckily had.

..

Sunday night - Ona´s penthouse

´´Did you enjoy dinner?'' Ona asked Lucy while pouring her a glass of white wine.

Lucy nodded, ''a lot, the whole day actually, thanks for taking me along'' she said honestly.

Ona smiled, ''wouldn't have been fun without you'' she said as she finished pouring her own glass.

She walked towards Lucy, ''want to sit on the couch?''.

''mhm'' Lucy said as she took one of the glasses from Ona, ''thank you'' she said, looking into the shorter woman's eyes, ''for everything''.

Ona held her gaze, unconsciously moving closer ''it was my pleasure'' she said as she could now feel Lucy's breath against her face.

Lucy bowed her head to be on the same level as the shorter woman, she could feel Ona's shaky breath against her lips as she leant in.

They shared a kiss, the kiss was different to kisses they had shared earlier, it was a kiss without hunger, or well, a different type of hunger. It was full of feelings, wanting to be close to eachother, wanting to be connected.

As their glasses clinked against eachother they broke the kiss, disturbed by the sound.

Ona cleared her throath and smiled, ''right, uhm, couch''.

''Mhm'' Lucy said back with a dopey smile, ''can't let the wine get warm''.

Ona chuckled, ''that would be a shame''.

Lucy took place on a spot on the couch that was directly pointed at the big windows, she loved the view from Ona's beautiful apartment.

Ona sat on the other side of the cornered couch.

''Are you going to sit there?'' Lucy asked, ''don't you want the view?''.

The Spaniard chuckled, ''if you want me close just say so''.

Lucy shook her head with a smile but didn't deny anything.

Ona moved to sit on the same side as Lucy, eventhough the couch was long enough for them to leave two metres between them, she took place so close next to Lucy that their thighs touched.

The English woman said nothing and took another sip of her wine, Ona also took a sip, before letting her head rest on Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy sighed in contendness and shifted a bit to get her arm up so Ona would be a little more comfy, resting her arm around the woman.

They sat like that for a while, sipping wine and looking out of the windows, overlooking the city. The air was filled with a warm silence, they were both enjoying this moment together.

When Lucy's glass was empty she let it rest on her leg, holding the stem of the wine glass, spining it around with two fingers.

''Want a refil?'' Ona asked, looking up at Lucy.

Lucy smiled as she looked into Ona's eyes, she shook her head, ''no one is enough for me'' she said, ''I didn't want to disturb you by leaning forward''.

Ona smiled and took the glass from Lucy to put it on the coffee table, she put her own next to it, eventhough it had still a bottom left. She looked back at Lucy ''so kind of you'' she said, ''very thoughtfull''.

The English woman shrugged, ''you looked relaxed''.

''I am'' Ona smiled, but her smile faded as she realised how she had behaved towards the woman that had this calming effect on her, ''hey Lucy'' she said as she sat up, ''sorry again for being so mean-spirited the other days''.

She saw Lucy's gaze go from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes, ''it's okay Ona'' Lucy ensured, ''i think i know where you're comming from, and i've noticed you're actually very kind''.

''Where i'm coming from?'' Ona asked surprised.

''Yeah, i think your trust has been broken'' Lucy carefully said, as she kept her eye on Ona, ''maybe even more then once?''.

Ona took a deep breath and let her head fall back on Lucy's arm.

''You don't have to say anything'' Lucy said as she gently started stroking Ona's hair, ''it's okay''.

Tears welled up in Ona's eyes, how could Lucy be so nice to her, they had just known eachother for a couple of weeks.

''Hey'' Lucy kissed Ona's temple, ''you're okay, you can cry, i won't think any different of you'' she planted another kiss, ''don't hold it in because of me''.

With a breathy whimper the tears started flowing, ''because you already see me as pathetic'' she joked.

''Nooo'' Lucy soothed, ''not at all Ona, i think you're so strong, so beautiful'' she placed another kiss, ''just a little broken''.

''God'' Ona sniffed and wiped her eyes carefully not to smudge her mascara, ''this is emberassing''.

''Hey'' Lucy turned Ona's head gently to look her in the eyes, ''you're one of the strongest woman i have ever met''.

Ona laughed with a stuffed nose from her tears, ''who is crying in the arms of a stranger''.

Lucy tried not to take offence from that comment, it hurt a little to be refered to as a stranger, but she realised she didn't know how she would call them either, ''well, showing your emotions also takes courage'' she said as she pulled her hands up to Ona's face and wiped her cheeks with her tumbs.

Lucy looked back at her eyes and saw Ona looking at her lips. She smiled and leant in to kiss the woman.

''So why do you not have a partner?'' Ona asked as she pulled back.

Lucy chuckled, ''I can answer that in two ways, d'you want political correct or the other one''.

Ona crinkled her nose, ''the one thats true?'' she asked laughingly.

''Well..'' Lucy akwardly said, ''they both have truth in them''.

''Allright, get it over with''.

''Okay, first and most important reason, i haven't met the one'' Lucy said as she stared infront of her, ''second reason is i...'' she hasitated, ''..i enjoy flirting with woman''.

Ona couldn't suppress the smile that tugged on the corners of her mouth, ''akward Lucy likes flirting?''.

Lucy rolled her eyes, ''i know, you wouldn't expect it, but i'm usualy pretty smooth'' she grinned, ''they like the abs too''.

''Wow'' Ona said as it dawned on her, ''so that was your thing, you do impress them with your whole fitness thingy'', she started mimicking Lucy, ''i believe i can break personal records with you on multiple fronts'' she chuckled, ''and then you slip their hand under your shirt''.

She looked at Lucy, ''right?''.

Lucy shook her head, with a smile ''maybe''.

''But why?'' Ona asked, ''are you affraid you can't keep from flirting if you're in a relationship?''.

''I would never cheat'' Lucy said quickly, as she knew it was a sensitive subject for Ona, ''i just haven't found the woman that has it all''.

Ona nodded, ''cheaters suck''.

''Cheaters suck'' Lucy agreed, ''it's so stupid too, because you can just communicate''.

''Well'' Ona said bitterly, ''that seems to be very hard for some people''.

''What happened'' Lucy carefully asked as she rubbed Ona's thigh, ''if you want to talk about it''.

Ona looked at Lucy, the beautiful tanned face with the tiny nose ring, she smiled, ''i have been cheated on by both the woman i have ever had an relationship with, Evelyn, the last one, she knew of the first one, and still'' Ona stopped as she felt the lump in her throath, she swallowed and continued ''still she cheated, we had been together for a year and a half, and half of that she'd spent fucking other women besides me'' she spitted the last words out with disgust.

''Heyy'' Lucy soothingly said, ''c'mere'' she patted her lap before pulling Ona on it.

''I just feel like i am not worthy enough to not be cheated on'' Ona said with a broken voice, she sniffed, ''dios, sorry, i am normally not like this''.

Lucy cupped her cheeks and smiled, ''i think evelyn and that other bitch are crazy, and i think they realise that now too'' she gently wiped away a tear that fell down Ona's cheek, ''you're so beautiful, and i hate that you've been hurt like that because i can see there is such a beautiful soul inside you too''.

Ona blushed by the words the English woman spoke, ''Lu-''.

'-sshh, it's true, you've just been hurt, but i know you will find someone who is worthy of your love one day, who will never cheat on you, never intentionally hurt you''.

The Spaniard was at a loss for words, how could Lucy speak so kindly about her, and why did Ona feel this sensation in her stomach everytime she caught Lucy looking at her lips.

She leant in to kiss Lucy. Again it was a kiss different then the once they had shared before this day. So tender, so peacefull.

Lucy hands found their place on Ona's body, not in a needy exploring way, but in a gentle grounding way.

´´Come with me´´ Ona said in a breathy voice as she broke the kiss after a few minutes.

''we d-don't'' Lucy smiled at her assuringly, ''w-we don't have to do anything you know that?''.

Ona tilted her head.

''We don't have to sleep with eachother right now, i get it if you're not in the mood, we can just cuddle or something'' Lucy suggested.

''Oh'' Ona smiled, ''you are so sweet to me''.

Lucy shook her head, ''just being a decent human, the bare minimum''.

''But i was talking about something else'' Ona carfully said, ''come with me when i.. leave for Rome?''.

The smile from Lucy's face slowely disappeared, she chuckled akwardly ''what d'you mean?''.

''Come with me'' Ona said with a twinkle in her eyes, ''i really like your company''.

''i can't Ona'' Lucy said as she soothed her hands along Ona's sides, ''i have clients here and my gym''.

''What if you hire someone in your place?''.

Lucy shook her head, ''they booked me, some people want me explicitly''.

''I want you'', Ona pouted, ''can't i hire you to come with me as a personal trainer''.

''No'' Lucy chuckled, ''then i'll still leave those clients, remember''.

''Just hire some other high class trainer''.

''i cant just do that''.

Ona rolled her eyes, ''you're no fun''.

''You stay in London then''. Lucy challenged.

''No i can't'' ''i have business'' Ona sputtered, before she realised what Lucy did, ''right''.

''Mhm'' Lucy smiled, ''we both have things to do''.

Ona kissed Lucy again, this time it was a hungry kiss, ready to forget their conversation with some physical distractions.

..

Tuesday evening - Bronze Fitness Forge

It was time for Ona's training session again. Lucy had left Ona's appartment Monday morning, just early enough to avoid an akward encounter with Soph, but late enough they'd drawn out a couple of orgasms from eachoter.

Lucy and her worked perfectly together, as they'd admitted to eachother that weekend that they had the best sex they'd ever had together.

Now Ona stepped in to the building, eventhough she'd seen Lucy yesterday, she was still looking forward to seeing her again. They had texted a little bit here and there, saying goodmorning and goodnight and some things about their days.

She got dressed and stepped in to the gym, and maybe she was a bit early, but she hadn't expected to see the thing she was walking in on.

Lucy was standing at the massage table and giving a woman a massage, the woman was laying down and Lucy stood besides the table.

It shouldn't make her this mad, it wasn't her right to feel this sting in her stomach and it was unreasonable the way her sight got blurred slightly from the damp that formed in her eyes.

''Miss Batlle!'' Lucy cheered, ''we are almost done, could i kindly ask you to wait in the dressingroom?'' she said in a professional tone.

''Of course'' Ona said, suppressing a whimper in her voice, ''pardon me, i didn't-

Lucy smiled and nodded.

''It's okay'' a muffled sound from the person laying on the table sounded ''we're almost done''.

Ona turned around and took place on a bench in the dressing room, merda, why does this bother her as much as it did.

Her thoughts get interupted by a loud grunt ''agh, Luce, just like that''.

What the hell, Ona thought, she couldn't believe what was happening.

''Okay'' she heared Lucy say, ''i think that knod is gone now''.

''mhh'' the woman giggled, ''you're such a good masseuse Luce''.

''Thank you'' Lucy said casually, ''well, more next time''.

''Yeah'' she giggled again, ''god, i need someone like you in my house, who could just give me massages every day''.

''Well you got my number Jess'' Lucy said, ''just text to book a next appointment and i'll see if i have a spot''.

''Yeah i have put you under the name magic hands'' the woman said.

Ona grumbled as she hear Lucy laughing with her.

When she heared the other dressing room close she stood up and pretended to do something with her bag, as she didn't want to look like an eavesdropping.

''Hey Ona'' Lucy said as she walked in to the dressing room, ''sorry about that, she is the wife of a soccer player i coach, they did a couple session once and since then she comes alone sometimes'' she got closer to Ona as she whispered, ''i actually think she is so anoying'' she confessed, ''but i'm mates with her girlfriend, so i just do it anyways''.

Ona chuckled, she was confused as why the partner of that woman wanted Lucy's hands all over her girlfriend, but she guessed Lucy was a trustworthy enough person, that they didn't mind. "Why do you find her anoying?" Ona asked sincerely.

Lucy quietly replied, as if she was afraid the woman in the dressing room would hear them, eventhough Ona could hear her sing under the shower "I feel likes she flirts with me, she just acts way different when her girlfriend is around then when we're alone" Lucy said, "and she obnoxiously loud".

´´Oh´´ Ona said, not being able to come up with anything else.

Lucy cupped Ona´s chin with her hand and tilted it up towards her, ´´now what´s wrong´´ she asked in a teasing voice, chuckling.

´´Nothing´´ Ona huffed, acting like a todler.

Lucy leaned in enough to let their lips brush, ´´what´s wrong?'' she asked again, a bit more serious this time.

Ona turned her head, ''let's just go train'' she said. She hated herself for feeling so much for this woman, Lucy could flirt with whoever she wants, it's not like they're in a relationship.

''Okay'' Lucy said, ''i don't know whats wrong, but if you want to go train now we'll do that, i'll just say that i wouldn't have minded to kiss you before''.

With a laugh Ona turned back, ''wouldn't have minded?'' she chuckled, ''good to know you're feeling so neutral about it''.

''No wait'' Lucy said shaking her head, ''i meant, i was looking forward to kiss you again''.

Ona couldn't suppress her smile at those words, but then the smile faded again, ''me, or just someone?''.

''What's this about Ona?'' Lucy asked with a frown, ''i like you, i think you're cute, since we've first slept together i haven't done anything with anyone else, not that we had made rules for that, if anything you were very clear on the 'no relationship' policy you're handling''.

''Right'' Ona said with a broken voice, ''i just--'' she shook her head, she was not going to confess to Lucy that when she had said ''i know you will find someone who is worthy of your love'' that Ona had seen a future flash by where she was together with Lucy.

''Train then?'' Lucy asked when it stayed silent for a couple of minutes, she was dying to kiss the Spaniard infront of her, but she wasn't about to confess she hadn't been able to think about anything else since the freckled woman had entered her life.

Ona sniffed her nose, ''y-yeah'' she said, actively trying to hold back her tears.

There was a sad atmosphere during the sports session, they did what they had to do, but there was not much talking.

At one point it was enough for Lucy, she couldn't hold it in anymore, it had been on the tip of her tongue for an hour ''I like you'' she blurted out.

Ona almost dropped the barbell she was doing swings with, did she hear that right? She put the weight on the ground and turned around to face the woman.

Lucy was standing there as if she didn't know what had gotten in to her, ''sorry i-''.

''What did you say?'' Ona asked, she had heared it, she just needed to be a hunderd percent sure, or maybe she wanted to hear it again.

''uh'' Lucy bit her nails, ''n-nothing, i just'' she shook her head, ''accidentally said something''.

A tear rolled onto Ona's cheek, but she smiled, atleast she tried to smile, ''okay'' she cleared her throath, ''uhm, i am going to the toilet for a second'' she said before she hastily moved towards the dressing room.

Lucy stood in the same position Ona had left her in for a couple of minutes until she regained conscience. She shook her head, what the fuck had she done, Ona would never go with a pleb like her, and frankly, the woman deserved better then here, god, she had litteraly admitted to liking flirting with woman so much as a reason to not date, to a woman who had been cheated on. ''Fucking knobhead'' she said out loud, shaking her head.

Lucy quickly walked to the dressing room, she wanted to apologise. She went in and to her surprise Ona wasn't in the toilet, but stood in the middle of the dressing room, changing ''leaving?'' was the only thing she could mutter.

Ona looked at her, only now Lucy recognised the swollen eyes, red from crying ''y-yeah i need to go home'' Ona said.

''crying?''

Ona let out a sobby laugh, ''can you only say verbs in a questioning matter anymore?''.

''I am not good enough'' Lucy stated out of nowhere, ''technically it might be possible to hand over my role here, but we can't be in a relationship, you deserve better''.

Ona stayed quiet as she kept on getting dressed.

''I get it if you only see me as someone to share the bed with'' she said turning back to Lucy with her bag, ''just don't lie to me about it''.

She walked towards the door, ''i understand i'm not enough to just only have me'' with that she walked out the door, two steps away from it she couldn't keep her tears in anymore.

When she stopped to book a taxi on her phone she felt a hand on her shoulder, ''ona'' a small voice called out, ''let me tell you the truth then''.

Ona shook her head as she turned around, she looked at the ground, ''i don't think i can handle it, please don't say it out loud''.

Lucy bent down and grabbed Ona's face, only now did she see Lucy's tears, ''i have to say the truth, i like you Ona, i like you a lot, you amaze me, you're so pretty and you're the smartest one i've ever met, and you're funny, even when you're mean i like you still so very very much'', she chuckled ''i-'' then Lucy got a lump in her throat, the first part of her confession was easy, but the second part was... ''you're just'' she looked at Ona, ''you, i mean, like that perfect sunday, i would never been able to give you that'' she looked down, ''okay maybe once, but then i'll have to live on water and dry bread for like a month'' she chuckled sadly, ''i'm not at the same level as you, i mean, i rent the space my gym is in from people like you'' she sighed and shook her head ''i bet your closet is worth more then my house''.

Finally Lucy looked up to Ona again, and was met with..... a smiling woman. ''Huh?'' Lucy said confused, then she shook her head, ''don't laugh at me please''.

''No no nooo'' Ona grabbed Lucy's face, ''i am not Lucy, i am not''.

''Lucy, you're such an amazing woman'' Ona said with disbelieve, ''i can't grasp the fact you feel like we are not on the same level'' she shook her head, ''i mean i can't grasp the fact you see me above you'' she grabbed Lucy's face thighter, ''you renovated a freaking house'' she chuckled, ''do you know why i eat scrambled eggs and take out, i can't even cook'' Ona called out to the ceiling, ''and yet here you are saying things like this'' she looked back at Lucy, ''i had an advantage, but if we take all the money out of the picture, we would be left with one skillless woman and one very skillfull one''.

Lucy frowned, ''i hope you just forgot all your skills in the field of architecture and real estate'' she chuckled, ''otherwise this is a big clever roast from you''.

Ona chuckled, ''Okay that came out a bit stupid, but you have to take in account that i am not a native English speaker, i was talking about life skills''.

''Hmm'' Lucy said, ''Well your profession is also a life skill, you make a living off of it''.

Ona smiled, ''you're so cute, i can't wait for us to be officially together''.

Lucy kissed Ona tenderly.

''So we're really doing this huh?'' Lucy chuckled as she was still face to face with the Catalan.

Ona gave Lucy another kiss, ''first to the beautiful Rome, and then to the city of love'''.

Lucy smiled, ''Paris''.

''Mhm'' Ona smiled at her ''I bet you would love waking up with a view of la tour Eiffel''.

''I would, but like i've said before, no view could beat the sight of you''.

''romàntica'' Ona laughed as she rolled her eyes, ''and in Rome i live in a mansion just outside of the city, i fell in love with the olive trees so i needed a big garden full of them'''.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve, ''we need to work on statements like this, and i'll pay for my own plane ticket by the way''.

Ona laughed, ''okay, don't hate me for saying another out-of-touch thing-

-so you do know what that is!'' Lucy laughed.

Ona playfully slapped Lucy's chest, ''but we fly with one of my dads planes''.

Lucy took Ona's hands ''wow'' she said as she leaned in to kiss Ona, ''I don't think i'll get ever used to the things you say'' she kissed Ona softly ''but I think i'll only be able to join you when you're already in Paris, but Rome was on the agenda again later right, so i'll see your house there later?''.

Ona tilted her head, ''Yes after Spain i need to go there again, but why can't you come with me earlier?''.

''I have to set everything up here'' Lucy gave her another kiss, ''leave it behind properly so I have my full attention for you when we meet up again''.

Ona smiled, ''will you stay my personal trainer too?'' she asked.

Lucy shrugged, ''ofcourse i'll train with you, you just can't pay me for it anymore, and i am going to work where ever we go because i cant just live off of you''.

''We'll set up a gym for you in each city i have a house'' Ona said as if she was stating a fact.

''Ona!'' Lucy said, ''this is exactly what i meant'' she shook her head laughing, ''I need to build things up myself''.

''I'll just give you the buildings'' Ona said.

Lucy slapped her forehead, and shook her head, ''no Ona, i want to create it myself, everything'' she took Ona's hand again, ''but i'll ask you to search for a place i can afford with me when i have saved up enough to rent''. Suddenly and idea struk her, ''maybe i can rent out my house here or something and then use that towards my new project''.

Ona shook her head, ''renting is not smart, it's losing money, it's wiser to buy''.

''It's not about what's smarter, it's about what's possible'' Lucy said as she brought one of Ona's hands to her mouth, ''we'll see how everything goes'' she said as she placed a kiss to it.

Ona smiled, ''i feel so happy already''.

''Want me to changed and come home with me?'' Lucy asked.

''I think i need to kiss you some more first'' Ona said as she cupped Lucy's face.

..

Tuesday night- Lucy's house

Ona moaned while pulling Lucy's hair, ''I think you hypnotize me with good sex''.

A chuckle sounded between Ona's legs, Lucy climbed up to hover above Ona ''I think you hypnotize me with the way you taste'' she said before indulging in a sloppy kiss rich of tongue.

Again Ona moaned, this time it was more whiny, her hips shifted, searching for contact with any part of Lucy's body.

Lucy chuckled, ''is it all i'm good for? giving you orgasms?''.

''Hmm'' Ona let her head fall back on the bed, ''no i love talking to you too, but there's a time and-

The words hitched in her throath as Lucy slid two fingers along her core, ''and what?'' Lucy teasingly asked as she kissed Ona's exposed neck, ''tell me, i love talking to you too''.

''y-you're'' Ona tried to gain back her composure, something that was encredibly hard with those talented fingers teasing her entrance, ''a tease Luce'' she groaned,

''Why am I a tease?'' Lucy asked as she grazed her teeth along the skin of Ona's throath, making her arch of the mattress, ''what did you say, come on i'm dying to know''.

''There's a time and a place!'' Ona called out as she felt Lucy barely dip one of her fingers inside her, ''now is not the time for talking''.

''What is it time for?'' Lucy asked, sucking at Ona's skin, ''for this?'' she asked as she pushed her two fingers inside the Catalans pulsing opening.

Ona moaned as she once again arched off the bed, ''fuck yes'' she cried out.

Lucy grinned, ''i think i need something to shut me up then, so i can focus'' she said as she curled her fingers inside Ona.

Ona's eyes rolled back as she tried to focus on Lucy's words, she pulled Lucy closer by her neck and kissed her.

Lucy groaned as Ona mesmerized her with the captivating kiss they shared and the way she felt around her fingers.

...

Wednesday afternoon - Ona's penthouse

Ona had come home this morning very very satisfied, but most of all very very happy.

She had sat down with Soph and told her everything, well not everything, she didn't need to know anything about her intimate life, but the fact Lucy and her were going to start dating had been shared.

Sophia was really happy for Ona and they had a happy and productive workday behind them, where Soph had made a comment here and there about how Ona was glowing or how love was a good look on her.

She couldn't even find it in herself to care or make a snarky comment back, she secretly liked it.

This brought her to the here and now, where she was sitting behind the computer in her office, she had agreed with Soph to let her handle dinner.

Ona still had some things to arrange.

First she found out who the building owned that Lucy's gym was in, coincidentally she knew the guy, it was an acquaintance of her father.

She gave him a quick phone call.

''Hey tío'' Ona started, ''you're speaking with Ona, Ona Batlle'' she clarified.

''Ona!'' the man sounded happy, ''what do i owe the pleasure too?''.

''I was calling about one of your buildings'' Ona told him wich one she was talking about, ''does it bring in a lot of money for you?''.

''Meh'' the guy said, ''i mean the renters always pay me on time, so it's a perfect building to own, but it's not anything special''. ''Why? do you have clients interested?''.

''I got someone who wants to take it over with the renters, a silent conveyance''.

''Who is it, and you know we always have to atleast give out an email with a new owner'' the guy said, ''what are they offering?''.

''What would you do it away for?''.

''22 milion'' the guy said, ''but if they gave you a bigger budget, i'll accept that too'' he laughed, it was one of those typical rich golfer guys laughs.

Ona laughed in politeness, she knew 22 milion was a fair price from the guy, ''they were thinking 20-21 million, but i bet they'd give you 22, i'll just tell them i negotiated from 25 to 22''.

''Deal Ona, you're a funny girl, makes me miss your dad, how is he?''.

They talked about him for a while before Ona could finally end the call, within two weeks she would be the proud owner of the building Lucy rented from, now she only needed to keep her fingers crossed that Lucy wouldn't read the email about it, she just wanted to buy the building as a safety net for her, if the gym clients really did leave if Lucy wouldn't work there anymore, she didn't have to worry about rent.

Then it was time for her next plan, she made a couple of calls to people in the world of fitness.

When Sophia called her for dinner an hour later, she was done.

In a couple of days Bronze Fitness Forge would have a dozen candidates stopping by for a job interview, she had deliberately planned it on Saturday, figuring Lucy would not like it if her normal program was disrupted.

...

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

''I hope you are free tomorrow'' Ona said as Lucy walked in to the dressing room.

''Hey to you too'' Lucy chuckled, ''sorry i couldn't wait for a kiss'' she offered as explanation for why she was in the dressing room.

''Yeah yeah'' Ona chuckled, ''sure you didn't just wanted to take a peek?'' she teased.

''Ah busted'' Lucy said smiling as she held Ona by the waist and pulled the shorter woman against her, ''what did you plan for tomorrow then?''.

''Now i want a kiss first'' Ona pulled a sad face, ''can't just talk about it and not do it''.

Lucy grinned and leaned in, ''you're cute when u put on a pouty face'' she said before kissing her.

''So what did you plan?'' Lucy said as they broke their kiss, clearing her throat, almost having forgotten where they were.

Ona blinked, having to regain her thoughts after she'd been broken from the trance of Lucy's smell and taste, ''uhm'' ''oh right, a surprise, i need you from 11 until 17''.

''Is it fun?'' Lucy asked suspiously, as she couldn't read anything off of Ona's face.

Ona chuckled, ''for me probably, for you..'' she looked at Lucy earnestly, ''i hope so, i hope you like my gesture''.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, ''what did you doooo?'' she asked suspiously, ''nothing with money i hope'' she added, ''I don't want you to buy anything for me''.

''No'' Ona laughed, ''if you like one, you can pay for it yourself'' she said cryptically.

''You're crazy'' Lucy shook her head, ''you aren't going to give me any hints, are you?''.

''Nope'' Ona said with a satisfied smirk, ''you'll see''.

''Are you bringing me along shopping?'' Lucy tried, ''making me buy suits you'll accept me wearing when i'm walking by your side''.

''No'' Ona shook her head, ''i accept everything you'll wear if it means you're next to me''.

Lucy lifted an eyebrow.

''Okay, some things i like better then other things, we can upgrade your wardrobe another time'' she said rolling her eyes.

''But not tomorrow?''.

''No tomorrow we have something else planned'' Ona said as she took her clothes off, ''now quit asking stuff because i won't answer''.

But Lucy had long forgotten the track she was on, she was watching Ona getting ready putting her gym clothes on.

When Ona wanted to turn around to put her sports bra on Lucy reached out, ''you don't have to turn around for me you know..'' she cheekily said.

Ona looked at her with an open mouth, ''okay miss pervy'' she said, pushing Lucy lightly.

Lucy chuckled, ''oh yeah, as if you didn't stare at me when i was putting my shirt on that first evening class''.

Ona rolled her eyes, ''just because you looked so dumb being stuck in it'' she said, not being able to keep from smiling.

''Okay fair enough'' Lucy said, crossing her arms and accepting her defeat.

Ona took her normal bra off to replace it with her sporting one, ''and you looked at my ass too'' she said, catching Lucy's eyes roaming her chest.

Lucy blushed, ''i was not'' she sputtered, still looking down.

Ona held her hands infront of her boobs, finally making Lucy look up at her, Lucy blushed as she felt like a caught teenager.

Ona chuckled, ''see, i saw that face too that day'' she laughed again, ''i just hadn't learned what it meant yet''.

Lucy grinned as she took Ona's hands, ''it meant'' she said leaning in, ''that you look so fucking amazing that i can't tear my eyes off of you'' she said hungrily, leaning in to kiss Ona.

..

Friday evening - Ona's penthouse

Lucy cooked dinner as Sophia and Ona sat behind the counter, all tree they had a glass of whine and it was very lovely how Sophia and Lucy were getting along.

Lucy had texted Ona with the idea of her cooking dinner for her tonight and when Sophia heared about the plans she insisted on staying, so she could properly meet Lucy, as she had only spoken to the woman once, and Ona wasn't dating her back then.

So Ona reluctantly agreed, as she'd rather just spend her time alone with Lucy, but she turned around a bit more when Lucy had been enthusiastic about it.

After they had eaten dinner and had a few more glasses of wine, Sophia announced her cab was going to be there soon, as she didn't want to arrive at her parents' too late.

´´Allright lovebirds´´ Sophia said as she came back with her suitcase, she´d fetched from her room.

Lucy stepped away from Ona, she had been hugging her from behind, standing at the kitchen as Ona was wiping the counter.

Ona looked up with a smile, ´´ah yes, have fun with your parents Soph´´.

´´I will´´ Sophia smiled, ´´they love that i´ve been able to come home the weekends, so thank you for that Ona and have a good weekend you two´´

´´Ofcourse´´ Ona smiled, ´´thank you Sophia, you know you´re the best assistant i know right´´.

´´I really like this in love version of you´´ Sophia chuckled, ´´i could get used to this´´.

´´Hey!´´ Ona said, ´´i was nice to you before this too´´ she pouted.

Sophia shrugged, ´´yes but now you´re even nicer´´.

Ona heard Lucy chuckling besides her, ´´hey! you two are not ganging up against me, are you?''.

''Well'' Sophia laughed, ''i have to go, good to meet you properly Lucy, nice to get to know you''.

''It was a pleasure Sophia, nice to meet you too'' she gently put her hand on Ona's back, ''i'm sure we'll be seeing eachother a lot more from now on''.

''without a doubt!'' Sophia laughed as she walked into the hallway ''bye byee''.

''Bye Soph'' Ona chuckled.

''Bye Sophia!'' Lucy called out before she heard the door shut.

''Sooo'' Lucy said as she took place behind Ona again, she burried her face in Ona's neck and closed her arms around Ona's tummy, ''in love huh?'' she smiled as she took in Ona's scent, ''sounds good''.

''Hmm'' Ona hummed as she lightly got rocked to and fro by the woman wrapped around her, ''what if i am?'' she said with her eyes closed, enjoying Lucy's presence.

Lucy smiled against Ona neck and pressed a kiss against her skin, ''maybe i am too'' she hummed against the smaller woman.

Ona chuckled, as she tried to turn around.

''No'' Lucy said as she thightened her hold, ''no you are mine now, can't escape anymore'' she chuckled.

Ona turned her head to try and face Lucy as good as she could, ''i don't want to escape, i wanted to turn around'' she laughed, ''millor et faig un petó'' (so i can kiss you better).

''I am going to learn your language'' Lucy said as she loosened her grip on Ona, ''because i have now idea what you were just saying'' she laughed.

Ona turned around, ''i said i wanted to kiss you'' she said as she leaned in.

---

he he he (stay put for part 3 to find out if Lucy likes what Ona has planned this saturday 😈)

PART 3

[taking-thyme]

🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅

Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!

The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia. 

God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)

Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage

Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz

Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs,  Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans

Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh

Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold

Tarot: The Devil

Planets: The Morning Star, Venus

Day: Monday and Friday

Consort: Lilith

Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others

How was he traditionally worshipped?

There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth. 

Epithets

Phanes

The Morning Star

Light-bringer

The First-born

Prince of Darkness

Son of Morning

The Glory of Morning

Lord of the Lunar Sphere

The First Light

Offerings

Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)

Devotional Acts

Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it

Altar Decorations

Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns

Appearance

For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos. 

Personality

Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

^ The Sigil of Lucifer