#and after she spent all that time reassuring me that the thing i was afraid was happening

[the-lisechen]

.

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 2)

summary: with the stakes of your relationship on the line, can rafe pull off the impossible to win you back?

word count: 6k 🫣

a/n: i love you all for the love on this lil' series!! ♡ toxic hockey rafe has me in a chokehold, so i promise this will not be the last you see of him!! apologies in advance, you will basically be attending a full hockey game here, i tried my best to explain all the lingo!

(part one)

The arena was packed even though you were there early, arriving alone because the other girlfriends and wives were always late, which simply wasn't in your DNA.

Your dad was a coach growing up, so you spent countless hours in empty rinks, arenas and stands; his rule for games was that you were in your seat early enough to see the starting lineup and the national anthem, no exceptions. Truth be told you liked being there when the lights went down, when the music amped up, you loved the anticipation of a new game.

You didn't mind sitting in the cold seat, hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate that you got from the same concession stand every time. Hockey players were notoriously superstitious and by extension now you were too; just like they had their pregame rituals, so did you: same parking spot in the VIP lot, same hot chocolate from the same concession stand, same seat in section 106. You were in the lower bowl of the arena, a few rows back from the ice, facing the bench, nearly eye-level with the team.

You let your mind wander and tried not to think about Rafe but it was impossible, this place was Rafe to you; from the feeling of the cold air on your cheeks and fingers, to the damp and crisp smell of the ice and the sounds of the fans and ambient pregame music, all of it was a part of your love story, all of it was him. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt like you thought it would, rather it felt like coming home after a semester at college, foreign but familiar.

You swiped at your phone, a nervous tick, even though you knew there wouldn't be anything there, which was a good thing, Rafe needed to be focused on the game, so you slid your phone into the cupholder next to you and resorted to tapping your heeled foot nervously.

The seats around you filled quickly and sure enough the other girlfriends and wives arrived just as the lights were dimming, offering cheek kisses and sympathetic hugs, well aware of your situation. Your best friend Morgan slid in next to you, pulling you into her side.

"It's selfish, but I'm glad you're here" she said, loud enough to be heard over the music and the announcer as her brown eyes traced your face sympathetically.

"I'm fine" you lied with a forced smile. Totally fine you thought. Not the love of my life who broke my heart then skated over it trying to win me back in the middle of the semifinals.

You decided to keep all of that to yourself, because truthfully it was ridiculous. It was juvenile. And it was never going to happen. And you didn't want it to happen anyway, you reassured yourself. Right?

You shook your head as you turned your attention to the starting lineup as Rafe's name boomed over the loudspeaker, the cheering noticeably louder from the crowd. He was a fan favorite, beloved for his fast and aggressive style of play. He wasn't afraid to two-hand someone when the referee wasn't looking, to stand up for his team, to battle for the puck. He was chippy, gritty, and he's on the first line tonight you thought to yourself, a spot reserved for the very best players, putting them in the best scoring position. But surely that's not in any way related to our deal... you mused.

You stood on your tiptoes to see him over the crowd in front of you. He was standing at center ice under the spotlight, his helmet tucked under his arm as he shuffled side to side on his skates, face unsmiling, focused as he looked between his feet and the empty ice in front of him. Your heart leapt uncontrollably at the sight of him; God he's beautiful you thought as your body hummed in recognition and longing, completely betraying you.

The tension and animosity in the arena were thick. You had faced the opposing team a few times in the regular season and it did not end well.

As in, you'd lost every time.

As in, Rafe left the last game with a five-minute major penalty and a black eye after an all-out brawl.

Now the fans were itching for a rematch and you were simply hoping for everyone to leave in one piece. That was the difference between being a fan and being someone who cared deeply for the boys on the ice, it wasn't a spectacle to you anymore. You watched as Rafe's wingers Nick and Andrew stood beside him, followed by two defensemen and your goalie as the national anthem wrapped up.

Everyone took their seats as the lights came back on and the music came on again too, urging the fans around you to cheer, and for you to resume the incessant tapping of your foot as you leaned forward in your seat, laser focused on the guys lining up for the faceoff.

"Girl, you good?" Morgan asked, taking in your nervous energy.

"Hmm?" you responded distractedly, barely glancing at her. "Yeah, yeah m'fine" you said.

You were always more into the game than the other girls, but that didn't account for the clear tension and anxiety rolling off of you in waves, nor the way you were immaculately dressed, which didn't go unnoticed either.

Rafe skated to center ice, equally sized with the opponent at faceoff as the referee dropped the puck. It had barely clattered to the ice before Rafe had gained possession, shouldering his opponent out of the way and barreling towards the offensive zone with a burst of energy like a gunshot that had the crowd almost immediately back on their feet, pulling you along with them.

"OK, I'm sorry, what is happening here?" Morgan said as she watched him.

He was a man possessed, head down, focused, ignoring his teammates as they called for the puck to set up a play, like he was trying to do it all himself. Like he was trying to score. He flipped the puck towards the goalie, who blocked it and possession shifted as he skated backwards on defense, your heart settling in your chest.

Rafe always played with intensity, but with the way he was playing now, he wouldn't make it through the first period. You thought there would be a reprieve on defense, but he was diving for the puck, playing to steal rather than defending his zone. He looked like a maniac.

Until it worked.

The crowd was back on their feet as he and Nick had a breakaway two-on-one, both of them racing towards the net together with only one defender standing between them and the goalie, the rest of their teammates striding to catch up with them. Nick called for the puck, slapping his stick on the ice, but Rafe deked the defender, faking him out before approaching the goalie and tipping the puck into the small pocket over his shoulder, swishing it effortlessly into the net.

The arena erupted as the goal horn blared and you found yourself jumping up and down, overcome with excitement and emotion. You could physically feel your heart beating. This is totally normal you thought. It's totally fine to score a goal in the first two minutes of the game, on his first shift, against the toughest team in the league.

You watched players pile on him in celebration before they all skated back to the bench, bumping fists with their team before taking a seat on the bench. Your eyes were glued to him, and his were on the jumbotron above center ice, watching his own replay before the coach approached him, grasping his shoulder angrily, and you could imagine why. He had been reckless, he had been lucky. Rafe nodded, but ultimately shook him off and refocused on the resumed play. Players zoomed in front of you and your eyes zipped to follow them before you glanced ever so briefly back at Rafe, who was unmistakably looking at you and smiling.

You swallowed to hide the emotions on your face, not giving him a single inch as you focused on the play.

You loved watching hockey, but it felt different when Rafe was on the ice, like he was a magnet, the only thing you could focus on, and his next shift was no different. He was playing like a madman and within seconds you could hear the coach shouting. Rafe turned up emptyhanded this time and the coach was visibly angry as Rafe skated to the bench, going so far as to yell back at him, which had you holding your breath; you had never seen him do that before.

Nick reached for Rafe's shoulder to calm him down and then they started bickering back and forth. Your attention was now split between the two of them and the action on the ice when you saw Nick physically rear back at something Rafe had said, the motion grabbing your full focus. Nick covered his face with his gloved hands, looking back at Rafe and then repeating the motion before he glanced up at the stands, at you, and shook his head, resigned. Were they talking about you!?! you thought. Had Rafe just told him what's going on?

You were so caught up that you missed the play as the other team scored. The game was tied 1-1. The arena echoed with boos as their bench erupted in cheers. You looked up at the clock: 2 minutes left in the first period.

Rafe and Nick got onto the ice for their last shift and the second the puck dropped, they were off as a duo, Nick's intensity now matching Rafe's own; they were bodying guys, tag-teaming as they raced into the offensive zone. Nick had the puck and passed to Rafe, and almost immediately Rafe was cornered by two extremely large defensemen who pinned him to the boards as they tried to steal the puck. But he wouldn't relent, throwing his elbows and trying to wiggle free, desperate and angry as the buzzer sounded for the end of the period.

And yet they didn't let him go. The crowd started shouting and everyone was on their feet as Rafe dropped his stick, turned and grabbed them both by the front of their jerseys, shoving them as the benches emptied and other players joined in, piling on top of one another until you lost sight of Rafe in a mess of limbs, equipment and jerseys. You were craning to see over the ecstatic fans, egging on the fight as the referees raced to break it up, pulling bodies off of one another until they reached Rafe.

His helmet had come off and as the referees skated him towards the locker room, he was shouting at the opposing team who skated after him, riling each other up before he yanked himself out of the ref's grasp and marched off the ice through the tunnel.

Period 1: Game Tied. 1-1.

You let out a deep sigh before collapsing back in your seat. You took a shaky inhale before exhaling and you felt a set of eyes on you.

You turned to see Morgan looking at you with an eyebrow arched.

"You're really going to sit here and act like you don't know what's going on? I know that boy texts you his every thought."

You opened your mouth, an excuse, a lie ready before she interrupted you.

"-- And I KNOW you didn't block him like you said you were going to, so don't try me. What the hell is going on?"

You bit your lip at that, glancing between her and the ice where the zamboni was running clean lines across the cold surface.

You gave a halfhearted shrug, "You know how much he wants to win, how much this means to him."

She doubled down her glare.

You sighed, avoiding her gaze before looking back to her.

"I made a deal with him" you nearly whispered.

A few of the other girls snuck by you both, causing you to shift in your seats as she leaned in and whisper-shouted at you:

"I'm sorry what!"

"If he scores four goals tonight, I said I'd get back together with him."

"You're joking" she said flatly. "Please tell me you're joking."

You pursed your lips with a small shake of your head.

"The two of you" she said as she let out an exasperated laugh. "Unbelievable. You can't stay away from each other and yet you’re willing to bet the stakes of your relationship on a game. I can't" she said, throwing her hands up in defeat.

She paused, getting serious for a moment.

"Are you sure you even want to get back with him, is that really such a good idea hun?"

"Morgan, he's never going to score four goals, it's like, impossible."

"Are you watching the same game I am?" she said emphatically. "Cause your mans sure is gonna try and you better ask yourself what you're going to do if he does."

There was a whisper of truth to what she was saying. It was probably impossible, but not completely out of reach. And what would you do? Your heart trilled. You would be ecstatic the devil on your shoulder said. You would be screwed said the angel.

Your phone buzzed in the cupholder next to you and swiped it open.

You grasped at your phone. Rafe never had his phone between periods, none of the players did, it was basically sacrilegious. They had just enough time to get treatment, catch their breath, hydrate and listen to their coach and he was on his phone!? You put yours down and tried to rearrange the smile creeping onto your face as you saw the teams rejoining the ice for the second period.

Just like before, Rafe was off like a rocket, but the other team was on to him this time, doubling his defensive coverage, making it nearly impossible for him to skate, let alone make a play. He had put a target on his back with the fight at the end of the first period, so even when he didn't have the puck, you could see the other players go after him, a stick in his skates, a slash at his side, heads turning to chirp at him as they lined up for faceoffs. But he didn't slow down for a moment, battling twice as hard now, coming back to the bench after each shift uncharacteristically exhausted, heaving with his elbows on his knees.

You watched him and felt overcome with emotions as the realization hit you: Rafe wasn't good at expressing himself, he wasn't a 'feelings' person, he didn't always know what to say, which is why sometimes words came better to him over texts when he had more time to think about it. But hockey? Hockey was his language. He couldn't tell you how sorry he was, how much he wanted to fight for this, but he could show you. He could play for you, he was playing for you, putting his body on the line, trying his all-out hardest, not a single person in the arena could deny that as they watched him tonight. He wanted this. Badly. Which meant he wanted you, badly. You felt a flush of warmth in your cheeks that had nothing to do with your lukewarm hot chocolate as you watched him slide up the bench for his next shift.

You looked up at the jumbotron. There were only 12 minutes left in the second period, and the game was still tied at 1-1.

What were you going to do if he scored four goals?

What were you going to do if he didn't? felt like the more pressing question. He was running out of time. If something didn't happen now, he would have one period left to score 3 goals, and that was simply not going to happen. I shouldn't have made the number so high you thought guiltily.

Your eyes glanced back to the ice as he clambered over the boards in the midst of a shift change. He was skating methodically, not slower, but maybe more strategically and you were sure his energy was waning even if it didn't look like it.

Suddenly, Nick picked the puck off an opponent and Rafe raced to skate with him, crossing into the offensive zone with several of their teammates. Nick had a wide open shot, and he brought his stick back for a slapshot before turning at the very last moment and passing to Rafe who had positioned himself near the goalie. The puck banked off his stick and ricocheted into the goal.

You were on your feet again, jumping up and down in Morgan's arms as the boys piled onto each other. The crowd was alive again as the team took a 2-1 lead, 5 minutes left now in the second period.

Morgan looked at you, shaking her head before shouting something you couldn't hear over the crowd. You shook your head back before she leaned in closer.

"Is Nick in on this shit?" she yelled.

You looked at her, confused.

"Why else wouldn't he take that shot? It was wide open."

The idea of Rafe recruiting his best friend and linemate into this made you lightheaded and giddy. As you looked back at the bench, the two of them were shoulder to shoulder, looking right at you and Nick waved, a goofy little smile on his face for the briefest of seconds before his attention returned to the game.

Period 2: Eagles winning. 2-1.

The period ended and you spent the last intermission glued to your seat as everyone around you got up to get food and drinks, your mind spinning.

One period. Twenty minutes left for Rafe to score 2 goals. It was still nearly impossible, but didn't feel as insurmountable as before and you still weren't sure what you wanted the outcome to be. You were staring into middle space, questioning your entire relationship when your phone buzzed again in your cupholder. You swiped it open.

Two hearts.

Two goals.

You smiled widely, rolling your eyes before giggling like a little girl. You wanted to respond, and your fingers lingered over your screen, but he still had no business being on his phone, and what could you possibly say anyway?? "Nevermind!! Let's get back together despite all the shit you put me through!"

Ugh.

The third period was simultaneously the slowest and quickest 20 minutes of your life.

Rafe was battling, and the other team battled back, getting chippier and chippier as the teams exchanged penalties and breakaways, but the score stayed the same. You could feel the crowd's excitement at the prospect of scraping through this game with a one-goal lead; a good enough result to make them happy, but you couldn't deny the disappointment you felt as you were playing an entirely different game.

As time whittled down you felt yourself getting emotional as the odds were stacked against Rafe, stacked against both of you. Ten minutes. Eight. Five. Three. You could feel the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes as your foot continued to tap, eyes glancing anxiously between Rafe, the bench, the players and the jumbotron that counted down the time unceasingly.

Morgan reached for you, winding her arm around yours and grabbing your hand, a sad smile on her lips. You both knew this wasn't going to happen. There was just no way. You could sense that Rafe could feel it too, he was getting more and more desperate, scrambling after the puck, making sloppy mistakes that made you feel guilty, the most so when the other team scored… tying the game.

And then what felt like the final twist of the knife: with less than 1 minute left, they scored again, capitalizing on the dashed morale of the Eagles to take the lead 3-2. It was like someone sucked the air out of the arena. Rafe was on the ice, on his knees and all of the players looked so defeated.

Fuck fuck fuck was all you could think as they regrouped with their coach to come up with their last play, their last chance to tie the game. You leaned forward, desperately trying to read lips as if you could somehow decipher the plan. The ref blew the whistle and the coach sent guys on the ice, leaving Rafe behind, and your stomach dropped: he wasn't even going to get a chance.

Rafe argued and you could see him yelling and gesturing wildly as the coach yelled back. The ref blew the whistle again and you knew they were dangerously close to getting a delay of game penalty. A ripple of confusion went through the crowd as they watched the argument unfold and you wished you could sink into your seat and disappear.

The coach shouted something that seemed final before Rafe took one look at him, ignored him and skated onto the ice, swapping with Nick who slid onto the bench, head bowed, ashamed, as the coach berated him.

At this point, Rafe had been on the ice way longer than he should have, he was making mistakes, and now he was putting his career, his contract on the line as he stepped up to take the faceoff.

The puck dropped and the battle ensued as the teams fought back and forth. Their team took a shot on goal that had you holding your breath as the time ticked down.

There were less than 20 seconds left as the puck rebounded towards Rafe and he guided it with his stick, taking off down the ice faster than you'd ever seen him skate; in just three strides he had nearly covered the length of the rink, leaving all of the other players trailing behind him as he squared off with the goalie.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" the crowd shouted.

You were on your feet, grasping Morgan's arm for dear life, certain you were leaving a mark as you continued to hold your breath.

Rafe shot the puck and it hit the goalie's leg pad, but bounded right back to him.

"Three! Two!"

He shot again and the goalie fell forward, but the crowd behind the goalie erupted and the official lit the lamp behind the goal - he had scored.

The puck had slid between the goalie's legs and Rafe exploded with energy, ripping down the ice and jumping into the glass in front of you as his team piled on top of him and the crowd went ballistic as fans threw their hats onto the ice to celebrate his hat trick - three goals scored.

You were jumping and screaming with the other girls, a few tears escaping your eyes in relief and excitement, overwhelmed at the entire situation.

Three goals.

He'd scored three damn goals, a new career record for him. And now they were in overtime.

Period 3: Game tied 3-3. End of regulation play.

"Wait! Wait! What the hell happens now!?" Morgan asked breathless, looking to you as the only girl that knew a thing about the rules.

"Overtime" you huffed, trying to calm yourself. "Another 20 minutes, first team to score wins."

"Was that part of the deal?" she asked.

"It wasn't not part of the deal?" you said. "We didn't really get into specifics" you laughed, rolling your eyes.

You glanced at the bench as both teams hydrated and listened to the coaches. Rafe's teammates were still all over him, smacking his helmet, arms slung around him. The coach said something to him and he put his hands up in surrender as he sat on the bench and his teammates took the ice.

Your eyes were glued to Rafe but unlike before his didn't meet yours and for a second, you didn't know how to take that. You craved that acknowledgement from him, but you also recognized the look on his face; he was totally 100% focused, eyes fixed on the action on the ice. He wants to win you thought. Or maybe his focus was for something else.

Within a few minutes, his line was up and they jumped on the ice. He was playing smart now, conservative, concentrated and gathered, a stark difference from before. He was strong on defense, backing his team up as they played perfectly off of each other, which paid off when Nick stole the puck and shouted as he passed the puck up the boards to Rafe who sprinted after it, just a stride in front of a defender.

"Oh my god" you heard Morgan mutter as everyone stood to their feet and even though the roar of the crowd was deafening, you swore you could hear every scrape of Rafe's skate against the ice, the clatter of the puck as the play moved in slow motion to the beat of your heart.

Another stride and Rafe was alone in the offensive zone, the defender just a hair behind him.

Was this really happening? Was he about to end the game, to score a fourth goal?

Another stride and he was eyeing the goalie, lining up his shot.

He maneuvered his stick and just as he was about to shoot, the defender dove, thrusting his stick in Rafe's path, causing them both to tumble onto the ice and into the goalie, the puck sliding away, abandoned as the refs blew their whistles. No goal.

Rafe was down for only a second before he stood up, grabbed his stick and swung it with full force, snapping it in half over the boards in front of him in rage and frustration, causing the fans behind the glass to jump and spill their beer on each other.

Two of the refs were frantically skating towards him, waving their arms and blowing their whistles, but your eyes drifted to the head referee who was standing next to the officials box, watching a small computer screen, a replay. Almost immediately he nodded, handed back the screen and raised his fisted hands over his head and crossed them and you let out an uncontrollable shout of excitement as you grabbed for Morgan.

"What! Oh my god! What is going on!!?" she shouted back, and all you could do was laugh and shout as you jumped up and down and pointed to the referee.

"You are the ONLY ONE HERE who knows what that means!" she shouted. "What does it mean!!!?"

"A PENALTY SHOT!" you shouted back.

Your eyes shot back to Rafe who had clocked the same thing and was skating back to the bench. The equipment manager handed him a new stick and now the arena was abuzz with the same information as the announcer explained that Rafe would have the chance to score one on one against the goalie, with all of the other players off the ice. A golden opportunity.

The fans were ballistic. You could barely hear yourself think, could barely process your emotions as you struggled onto your tiptoes again to see over the raised hands and jumping fans as Rafe skated methodically to center ice, alone.

He skated back and forth, side to side with crisp turns like a predatory shark before he stopped at center ice, hands on his stick on his knees, eyeing the goalie before his head turned slowly and he looked right at you. Even amidst the chaos, you could see his signature smirk before he refocused and gathered the puck in his stick.

He was going to score.

You just knew it. You knew by the look on his face, by the stride of his skates, by the confidence in his gait.

"He's going to score" you said out loud, quietly, to yourself, a revelation before you turned to Morgan who was solely focused on the scene unfolding on the ice. You tugged on her sleeve, desperate for her to understand the weight of what you had just said.

"He's going to score, Morgan" you said, louder, matter-of-factly.

"Well SHIT I hope so!!!!" she shouted back without looking at you, now completely wrapped up in the game.

She didn't understand.

He was going to score.

And that meant he was going to be yours again.

Your eyes found the ice and you watched as he approached the goalie, goading him out of the goal, faking him out before wrapping the puck around his leg and tipping it upward.

The goalie dove backwards at the last minute and 15,000 fans held their breath as his gloved hand extended, brushing the edge of the puck, causing it to wobble, but without enough force to change the course of fate as the puck swooshed into the net.

The goal lamp lit up.

The goal horn sounded.

And if you thought the arena was loud before, it reached a new level as fans screamed, shouted, jumped up and down and embraced each other.

You felt realization ripple over you, your gaze stuck on the ice. Stuck on the image of the goalie flat on his back, defeated. Stuck to Rafe who had ripped his helmet off, discarded as he let out a roar of victory before getting bombarded by his teammates who piled on him in celebration.

End of OT. Eagles win 4-3.

Morgan yanked you into her by your shoulders, hugging you and jumping up and down, but an unexplainable calm had settled over you, gluing your feet to the ground.

You should be excited, you were, but instead you felt like you were having an out-of-body experience. What the hell had just happened? Rafe had scored four goals, had led his team to the finals. Had he done it for himself? Of course. But wasn't a part of it for you too?

You turned and looked back at the ice, desperate to catch his eye, to talk to him, to figure this out as chaos rained around you. The players skated to center ice with their sticks raised to salute the fans before skating away, Rafe leading them quickly into the tunnel without so much as a look at you. Not even a cheeky smile or a blown kiss, which you used to get after every game. What the fuck.

Morgan shook your shoulder.

"Babes, now what?!" she asked, excited, curious, anxious.

You looked at her, lost. You had no idea. Did you text him? Were you just back together again? How did this work?

The lights dimmed as the announcer drew the crowd back in to introduce the three stars of the game - recognizing the three standout players of the night. The third star was your goalie, who stopped an unimaginable number of shots and you cheered for him as he skated solo onto the ice in a spotlight, taking a spin around the ice before tossing a t-shirt into the crowd to an excited fan.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, your mind incapable of thinking of anything but Rafe. You grabbed your phone. No new texts. The players were all in the locker room by now. Sure, they were partying and celebrating, but if he had time to text you in the middle of the game, couldn't he text you now??

Nick was the second star of the game and you glanced up from your phone to see him doing the familiar skate around the ice, waving to Morgan who blew him a kiss back, but you glanced back at your phone, willing a text to appear, opening and closing your texts, refreshing the app, messing with your wifi. Surely it was the internet connection you thought, now desperate to hear from him.

"Come on Cameron" you murmured to yourself.

"Okay, what is he doing?" you heard Morgan laugh and you looked down to the ice to see Nick still circling around, backwards, forwards, pumping up the crowd who roared around him as he gathered a t-shirt to throw. You were thrilled for him, really, but you resumed your focus on your phone. Should I turn it off and turn it back on again? you thought.

The lights dimmed further and the deep voice of the announcer reverberated, "Ladies and gentlemen, your first star of the game, with an unprecedented four goals, including your game winner--"

"Uhhh YN" you heard Morgan say.

But you were too distracted, too afraid to look away from your phone in case you missed a text coming through.

"--Rafe Cameron!!!" the announcer said, the spotlight shining on the tunnel, and your eyes shot up at the sound of his name, only to find the ice empty.

You felt Morgan tug harshly on your sleeve and when you finally looked back to her your stomach barrel-rolled and your heart shot into your throat.

Standing unmistakably next to her in the aisle was Rafe, still fully suited in his gear and pads, towering over everyone like a giant, his skates traded for his training shoes. Pieces of his hair were clinging to his forehead and his face was rosy with exertion, sweat dripping down his temple in rivulets.

He was smiling confidently at you, and unlike the last time you had seen him in your car, his eyes were unwavering and transfixed on yours, even when the fans around you turned around and noticed he was there, even when phones were whipped out and shouts and cheers went up, he ignored them; he only had eyes for you.

"How--" you started to say, your phone completely forgotten as he started to nudge his way past the people at the end of your row to walk fully into the seats next to you.

"Ohmygod, ohymgod" Morgan was saying as she clambered out of the way of his bulky frame and suddenly he was towering in front of you.

He was breathing heavily; with how quickly he made it up here it was no wonder he had been sprinting off the ice and into the tunnel. His face searched yours, eyes twinkling, flitting over your lips, searching for a sign, a signal, a hint of how you were feeling. And you weren't sure you could have expressed it even if you could form words.

He leaned down next to your ear and you could feel the sweat and the heat radiating off of him.

"That was four" he said, breathless and husky before pulling back, but not as far as before, his nose brushing yours.

The spotlight was sweeping the empty ice, looking for him as the announcer tried awkwardly to fill the air time, wondering where he was.

All you could do was meet his gaze, staring into his crystal blue eyes.

And all you could see was your Rafe.

Sure, he had his issues, but you knew he was sincere, you knew he was trying and you acknowledged that despite everything he was probably the love of your life.

"We didn't agree on overtime goals" you said loudly back at him to be heard over the crowd.

For a moment you could see fear, panic and a hint of hurt cross his face; if you didn't know him as well as you did you wouldn't have seen it, it was nearly indetectable. But he took one look at your sly smile, your blushing cheeks, your eyes rimmed with tears.

"C'mere" he said roughly, ignoring you as his warm and sweaty hands that smelled unmistakably like his gloves grabbed your face and pulled you towards him as his lips enveloped yours, engulfing you, bold, brazen and completely unabashed as he full on made out with you, chaotically, his tongue slipping into your mouth, even when you tried to wiggle away, more out of a sense of decorum than anything as a feeling seeped through every inch of you like he was mending every wound in your body.

He was sweating all over you at this point, but you didn't care. You could feel it dripping on you. You could taste it in his kiss, mixed with the tang of yellow gatorade and your fingers grasped for purchase on his jersey as you tried to balance yourself against the force of him pressing into you.

The crowd around you erupted, as the flash of pictures being taken lit the two of you. He was unrelenting and you could feel yourself flushing as much from his attention as from the heat radiating off of him. It definitely went on longer than it should have, longer than any right-minded couple would have made out in front of thousands of fans before he paused just long enough, his lips still hovering on yours and said through a growl, "You're mine, baby."

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444, @rafescurtainbangz, @romiiq, @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd, @warriorblu, @ietss, @tiaamberxx, @zyafics, @maybankslover, @saintchxx4, @akirkland, @cameronspecial, @f4ll-for-you, @diduzzula, @user123453226780536, @zizuras, @imabigback, @rowans-posts, @mymultiveres, @drewsphswife, @fangirlwithlou

[spinchip]

He keeps ending up in these situations- these soft, quiet moments with Zane where everything Lloyd wants to say is crowding behind his teeth before he swallows it all back down. He never felt bold enough to disturb the piece, or maybe he never felt sure-footed enough to navigate the conversation. The land around the topic of the Never Realm was still littered with landmines and sinkholes. Zane didn't talk to them about it.

They're stargazing. Lloyd was out here first basking in the rare alone time. He'd turned Kai away two hours ago when he'd come to check on him, but when Zane stood over him and blotted out the stars with a weak smile- Lloyd invited him to stay, and promised himself he wouldn't shelve this conversation for another day.

He's look at Ursa Major when he says it, "I'm Afraid you'll never be okay again."

There's a soft pause.

"I am okay, Lloyd." Zane reassures him in a voice that is so much more monotone than before the Never Realm, "Therapy has been extremely rewarding. I feel like myself again."

He sits up, propping himself up on arms that don’t tremble, “You’re not yourself, though.” He feels like he has to force the words out from behind the lump in his throat, “You don’t cook, or meditate, or bird watch anymore-” He stops to center himself, “...I’m scared you’ll never go back to normal.”

Zane is the quiet one this time.

Lloyd lies back down, feeling worse than before. They watch the stars trek across the sky.

“I believe this is the new normal, Lloyd.” He says very, very quietly.

Immediately Lloyd sits up again, twisting to face Zane, “How can you say that? Two months ago you were acting totally fine! Yeah, when you came back from the Never Realm you spent a whole month alone in your room... but then you were Zane again, and now- now you’re…”

“Different.” Zane finishes, “I have changed.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd turn forward, staring down in his lap.

No one says anything. Lloyd feels like he's royally blowing this conversation and making everything worse.

“...When I first returned from the Never Realm, I was... in a dark place. It was easier to hide and sort through things on my own, But I… had not dealt with it as well as I could have. After I spent that time alone and I returned to the team, once more joining with the group socially, I was still a mess. I did not know who I was, and I did not feel like anyone- not Zane, and not the emperor. So I looked in my memory banks and pretended.”

Lloyd looks back at Zane, who’s eyes are fixed resolutely on the moon and not Lloyd's reaction. “You… what?”

“I did not want to worry you. My theory was that If i acted like I was okay, I would be. I hoped I could figure it all out before anyone realized I was wearing a mask, that I could fix myself to the point where I could stop pretending.” He links his hands together on top of his stomach, “Then Cyrus Borg put me in touch with his therapist." Two times a week, every Monday and Thursday. Lloyd knew that. "She helped me realize that this act I was putting on was not a positive move for me and my recovery. It is not that I have regressed, Lloyd- i have simply stopped pretending to be who I used to be.”

“You were trying to protect us?”

There’s another pause, “It was partly selfish, too. I was… afraid. I was scared that if you and the others realized just how much I had changed, you would not see me the same. That the love you had for me would not be able to adapt to who I have become.”

“I- of course we would love you! Always!” Lloyd insisted immediately, “It’s not- I didn’t mean- I was just worried. I’m sorry.” He feels shame curdle in his gut at his earlier words, unintentionally picking at Zane's insecurity.

“I understand your feelings, Lloyd. You do not need to apologize,” He smiles softly at him and its not the same smile Lloyd is so used to, but it has its own warmth, “Change is not… a bad thing. The circumstances leading to this were, but this is what healing looks like for me at this point. I am figuring out who I am again- I do not bird watch or cook or meditate, no, but I think you’ll be surprised at how good my knitting has gotten.” He offers Lloyd another tiny smile, “I am finding my happiness again.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Zane's soft blue eyes flicker back up to the stars and his smile turns gentle, “You are always helping, even if you do not realize it. All of you are.”

[genshin-scenarios]

pls pls pls more spiderverse lyney soup pls pls

After the events of Lyney's spiderverse story here...

It's been a week since the fight against the great narwhal, and neither Lyney nor Lynette have been at school.

The bitter part of you wants to be glad about it, but in truth, you were only left perplexed and scattered. How could they be the Phantom Twins? And how could Lyney have known about your true identity this entire time?

How long has he known? How did he find out? Was your entire friendship, and whatever else that was budding in between, all a lie?

"Please don't be mad."

You grit your teeth, slamming your locker door shut. It's Monday again, but this time, you spot a familiar shade of ash-blond dart around the corridor.

The twins are back again, but Lyney is uncharacteristically avoidant - he speaks to everyone normally but even your eyes on him are enough to make his posture shrink. And you don't know what to make of the flip in your stomach whenever he refuses to meet your eye.

Was this an act, too?

You don't know if you'd rather he be genuine or a great deceptor.

-

By the time you've become numb to the fact that Lyney had known your identity and somewhat-betrayed your trust, the boy in question was still tip-toeing around you.

It's almost impressive, considering how it's been a month. You've spent many restless nights coming to terms with the situation. It's time to move on.

...But why did he have to be a Phantom Twin of all things?! And the more annoying one, too!

"You're no longer mad at us." Lynette observes, while you're both working on a paired task. "But there's something on your mind."

You hadn't been as close to Lynette in the past, but since her brother has been avoiding you like the plague, she's taken the initiative to reassure you that both her and the third agent that night (Freminet) do not intend to spill your secret. Even their higher-ups won't know of it.

"I hope you will be able to do the same for us. While I cannot guarantee that we will never face each other again on the field, we are all still teenagers at the end of the day."

Teenagers who swing from rooftops and risk their lives every other weekend - but you understood what she was trying to say.

"How come you've never asked me to talk to Lyney?" You ask.

"Because he'll never forgive me if I pushed you into an artificial conversation." She hums, writing down notes. "Despite how he seems, my brother is quite a romantic and was very stricken with you. I'm afraid if you went up to him only to tell him off, he might never show his face in public ever again."

You tell Lynette she's exaggerating. She shrugs and returns to writing your report.

You decide to put Lyney out of his misery by cornering him after this class. Granted, the method sounded a little aggressive, but it was truly the only way for you to face him for more than ten seconds before he tried to evade you again.

"Ah, are you here to borrow the lab notes? I'm almost done, so I'll get out of the-"

"Lyney." You stamp your hand on the pile of papers, just as he placed his worksheet onto the top. Lyney tries to free it, fails, and hesitates. "I'm not mad anymore."

In the privacy of the empty room, Lyney's gaze drops to his feet. "...Not mad about what?"

Feigning ignorance? Or trying to pretend like nothing happened?

You lick your lips, thinking about what you should say. Subconsciously, you lean against the hand that's still placed atop the papers. It partially cages Lyney against the desk. "Well, I had a dream recently that someone close to me had a big secret, and it really changed the way I saw him."

Lyney desperately wants to say that your words are the only thing he's paying attention to, but when you're this close, his eyes can't help but dart between your arm and your moving lips. He can feel his guilt and feelings for you knot together, choking him. "I see. In what way did your opinion change?"

"I suppose that's up to you." At that, Lyney snaps out of his nerves in newfound surprise. "What were your intentions after you found out who I was? Did you only try to get close to me as part of some scheme?"

A pause. You continue. "Or did you think of it as some sort of game?"

When the show is over, only those behind the stage know what is real after the curtain call.

You think back to his initial animosity against Spiderman, and how it shifted. You think about his initial charms which have softened from rose-colored to fleeting lilac as you started to get to know the 'real' Lyney.

Then, how it all came to a halt as the same purple gaze trembled with strain.

"Playing with my knowledge was never my intention," he says, "to be honest, you stopped being a pursuit to me the moment I started to care about you." Lyney meets your eyes. "Even before finding out, I'd already... and I know you might not believe me, but knowing who you are didn't change my mind one bit. Manipulating you was the last thing on my mind."

"Then what was the first?"

"That the person I'm falling in love with was destined to be my foe." His lips press into a line. "That I didn't know how I'd face you the next day if I caused an injury that couldn't heal. That I didn't know how many sorries would be enough if I did expose you, and changed your life for the worst."

A beat. A reply.

"The first thing I thought of after I left the water, was that I've never seen you so scared." You admit. Your heart is in your throat. "Stupid, isn't it? Instead of worrying about my safety, I was thinking about how worried my enemy looked about my reaction. If you really were just trying to bait me with feelings, I guess that worked-"

Something warm cups your cheeks. Lynette's always said that her brother's blood ran hot.

You didn't realize you'd started crying.

"I don't know what I have to do to convince you of this, but I'd carve out my heart to prove it to you if I could." Lyney leans close like he's uttering a prayer. A fire in his eyes is trying to burn your fears away, but a million regrets are swirling in his gaze, too. "If I'm lying, you should be the last person beating yourself up over it. Just give your anger to me."

You take a deep breath, steadying your voice. Despite yourself, you laugh. "That's not a very healthy solution."

"I deserve it." His hands start to fall away. "I know it's out of our control, but I shouldn't have called out your name and-"

The sound of items crashing to the ground interrupt him. From behind Lyney, a cat has snuck in through the window and pushed all the items from the shelves onto the floor.

"Meow." It greets.

A part of you regrets how fast Lyney's warmth leaves you when you step away, but try to focus on the feline intruder. "Just how did you climb all the way up here?" You ask, about to pick it up to return it outside when the cat leaps from on top of the shelf and over your head.

"Look out!"

In a matter of moments, the world topples over and is blanketed by worksheets fluttering to the floor. You've fallen onto the ground while trying to dodge the cat, who's landed on the desk and sent the papers flying in the air.

And Lyney, who was behind you, had tried to shield you - only to find himself in a precarious position, with his arms propped around your sides and caging you against the ground. He's keeping himself hovering above you, but his ears are turning red. "A-Are you alright?"

"Lynette was right." Your mouth starts moving before you can think. "We should've talked sooner. You've already lost all your silver-tongued charm."

"I don't think all the charm in the world would be able to express what I'd want to you." Lyney seems to have returned to normal, save for his blush. As he sits up, he pulls you with him so that the both of you are still close together. "Was that a bit of your vigilante that I heard?"

"What can I say? I only know how to crack jokes at the worst times." You smile. "I'm surprised you haven't tried taunting me yet. Not as mean as you tried to seem?"

"I'll only be mean if you want me to be."

The thought makes you flush. "What kind of-"

But before you can finish, the door swings open. There stands a calm Lynette and concerned Freminet.

"Oh? I see the two of you have made up. Quite dramatically, in fact. Good work, brother."

"Wait, Lynette-"

"We'll delay the teachers a little longer." The door clicks closed.

You burst out laughing at the way Lyney's holding his face in his hands. "Your sister's great."

"I'm glad at least you're amused." He mutters, peeking over his fingers with a cute furrow in his brow. "I take it that this means we're friends again?"

You hum thoughtfully, taking one of his hands to entwine yours together. "Just friends?"

The way Lyney's pupils dilate might just be worth the trouble you both went through, to get here.

-

Post-resolution headcanons!

The Phantom Twin's missions and yours still clash from time to time, but since you're aware of each other's identities, there's a lot more diplomacy. The twins have told their Father that after the battle with the narwhal, a new truce of sorts has been established. Arlecchino has decided not to pry.

Lyney is still insufferable in his masked form. You're convinced that it's just part of the persona he puts on during his work - and despite knowing it's him, your dynamics don't change too much when interacting as Spiderman and Phantom Twin. There's less anger and aggravation from you, replaced with exasperation and competitiveness. You'd like to think it's a healthy separation of your private and public lives. You're guilty of having your own superhero-personality, too.

Lyney and Spiderman however? It's almost uncanny how his civilian self slips into a sharp, knowing gaze and asks leading questions to you. He's always careful about looking too comfortable with Spiderman, but aids you in figuring out villain schemes in a subtle way. You wonder with a chill if that's what his expressions look like under his mask during his agent work. And what other personas he may have under his belt (surely they also functioned with other disguises, rather than just the Phantom Twins)

Oh, but as just Lyney and the regular you? He's happy to partake in your diagrams and investigation files, so long as it doesn't affect the House of Hearth's business. This is where you get the chance to appreciate and witness Lyney's wit, which he often hides behind his cleverly charming personality. If he catches you staring, he smiles. It's been a while since he'd stopped getting flustered from being admired by you.

And as the regular you and Phantom Twin Lyney... it's a rare occurrence, but Lyney's good at greeting you in passing with a small nod or glance. If you're stuck in between one of his fights, however... you may or may not be prone to joining in with a haphazard weapon (the last one was a metal pipe) to whack the pursuer over the head with. Lyney has to admit it was very hard not to kiss you on the spot.

Your version of the upside-down Spiderman kiss is you hanging from the monkey bars in the gym or other sort of furniture, surprising Lyney with a smile. The two of you are too careful to do such a thing the traditional way, with you in your hero-form and sneaking a kiss in the night. But Lyney won't say he hasn't daydreamed about it. If only both your lives weren't so riskily intertwined!

Regular dates include cute cafe visits, studying in the library, in either of your homes... your favorite memory is when Lyney cooked for you during a sleepover, and you played a range of board and console games with his siblings before turning in for the night.

...You'd woken up with Lyney clinging to you, unsure of how you'd shifted closer in your sleep. A polaroid of that day still sits in your wallet. You suppose if anyone ever tried to find out your or the Snezhevich siblings' identities, you'd just play the fool and proudly label the cute ashen-blond as your boyfriend.

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 2:

She dreamed of paradise

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 1 here.

Warnings: explicit domestic violence and abusive relationships. Descriptions of physical violence. Reader is married and has a child.

Summary: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

Steve was strangely calm on the way home. He had asked the sheriff for permission to take you and Willy away during his lunch break with the excuse that he was worried about the disappearance of women that had been happening in town, just like an ideal husband, but you knew the real reason, he wanted to keep an eye on you.

"Well?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at you.

You knew it was best to let him speak first, so you waited for Steve to start, no matter how tense you were.

"The FBI guy, what did he want?"

"Nothing much, he was just playing with Will, he knew magic tricks."

You didn't mention the terror you felt when you saw that your son wasn't by your side, he could never relate to that, he could never understand the deep emptiness that existed inside you when Will wasn't around. He was all the light you needed.

"And you let some stranger talk to our son? I can't leave you two alone anyway."

Sometimes you didn't quite understand Steve's intentions, even though you knew there was a reason behind everything.

"He's FBI, isn't he?"

It was a risky move, rebutting what he was saying. Luckily for you, it seemed to be a good day, because he did nothing but raise an eyebrow and snort.

"I don't want you two anywhere near that guy."

You just nodded, distracted as you wondered what was so special about Dr. Reid that Steve reacted like that, your curiosity piqued. Was he trying to push you away from one more person before any bonding had even begun? Surely he couldn't have been afraid that you would turn him in since you had already understood a long time ago that no one would help you or even give you a second glance. If I could go back in time, I would have run as soon as Steve showed interest in joining the police. A bunch of conniving vibrators, they were.

"We'll never see him again," you reassured him.

"Well," your husband muttered, "you know why I do it. I have to protect my family."

With a silly, fake smile on your face, you agreed as you stroked his arm, looking through the rearview mirror at Will sleeping in the back seat. You could do this for another 13 years, right? Just hang in there.

•••

Spencer gathered his things from the table, putting them in his bag as he prepared to go to the hotel, hoping to get a good night's sleep and work with more focus and renewed vigor the next day. He spent the rest of the day reliving his interaction with you down to the smallest detail, remembering and recalling her tone of voice, her posture, and her submission when her husband appeared. If was right, his name was Steve.

The policeman in question left the police station for an hour and returned soon after, casting long glances at Spencer, none like yours, who followed him to his hotel room, until he laid his head on the pillow and far beyond that, invading his dreams.

•••

5 days in the same city was a lot on the Spencer scale. Enough to make the UNSUB profile, but not enough to capture him. He lived in the shadows, preying on the most vulnerable people in that small, broken society that was your little town: the women. More specifically, the housewives. Spencer spent these days wondering if you had any job.

"What the hell?" He heard Morgan's voice exclaim with surprise, raising her head to look at the source. That's when spotted William, wandering around outside the glass-walled room they were in. The boy walked between the tables as if he belonged there, but stood out from his surroundings. "Who is he?"

"Cop Steve's son." Spencer murmured, attracting the attention of his colleagues.

"Do you know him? How?" JJ asked.

Spencer shrugged. "Kids like magic. He came here a few days ago, must have run away from his mom again. I thought Morgan had seen him before."

"Well, I didn't see. There's something strange about that boy's father-" Turning away as he spoke, Derek was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a child's voice shouting happily.

"Dr. Reid!"

As if it were second nature, Spencer rose from his seat to kneel in front of the child and greeted him back with a smile.

"Hey, Willy," he held up his open palm, which made the boy laugh and high-fived him, "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Mom came to bring Dad's lunch again, but I wanted to see you."

Spencer sighed with an understanding smile, looking around at his classmates who stared rather shocked at their very natural interaction.

"And does your mom know you're with me?"

The look he shifted to the floor said everything the doctor needed to know.

"You can't just disappear, young man. Do you know where she is?"

Will nodded. "In the big room with Daddy."

Spencer looked at Hotch, who understood immediately and sighed tiredly before nodding and nodding towards the door, permitting him to leave.

"Let's find her then, shall we?"

William walked out hand in hand with the man, leaving Spencer shocked that a policeman's son was so ill-educated, regardless of his age. Children could be sociable. They should be. That didn't exclude all the evil that lurked outside the house - or inside - the boy seemed the pure image of naivety. Worrying. He couldn't tell you why he cared so much.

"So, Willy, why did you split up with Mom? You heard what she said, she gets worried when you disappear like that."

"Because they were starting over."

"Starting what?" Reid asked, frowning and looking down to see the child's face, who didn't answer. "Starting what, William?" he asked again.

•••

"How did you manage to lose sight of him? For God's sake, this is a police station!" Steve exclaimed furiously, although he growled quietly. He didn't believe in announcing his problems to the world.

"I let go of his hand for a second and he disappeared!" You retorted, your eyes watering as you thought about what he could have gotten himself into this time. "It's not my fault," you continued, hugging your body as if trying to convince yourself.

Your husband snorted, scorn appearing on his face as he approached, and suddenly any courage you had was thrown out of the window. You looked around, at the walls that gave you so little privacy. We're in public, you thought, like a mantra. He didn't do anything in public. He didn't do anything in public. He grabbed your arm. Moreover, his nails dug in, forcing and tearing at your skin as his instinct acted and tried to pull your arm back, but he held back. As he always did. Apart from the pain, all you could think about was what a bad idea it was to wear short sleeves that day.

"What good are you anyway, if you can't even look after my son properly?"

Your eyes were injected with rage and you swallowed, watching the face of the man you once thought would make you the happiest woman in the world. The man who promised you the world while hugging you in a college dormitory bathroom and holding a pregnancy test with a small smile on his face. Eyes crinkled with joy as he stroked your still flat belly and whispered such sweet things. A time when you thought you could face anything as long as you had him by your side. You no longer saw any of that in the man in front of you. He ripped any last shred of hope from your cold, dead hands and then made you dig your own emotional grave, as deep as his nails could go into your skin. You barely felt the pain anymore. You didn't even feel anything, until you heard the familiar voice of the light of your life, pulling you out of that dark pit as it always did.

Quickly, Steve retracted his arm, taking a deep breath and swallowing as he turned to where he had heard his son's voice, his nostrils flaring as he saw who was with him.

•••

Spencer never got a verbal answer to his question from William, but he didn't need one. The scene in front of him said it all, and from the way the boy squeezed his hand tighter, he could tell that Will knew there was something wrong between his parents. Fortunately, the boy was too short to have the same field of vision as Reid. Luckily, he hadn't seen the terrified look on his mother's face, let alone his father's aggressive grip.

Will shouting "Mommy" and letting go of your hand to run to you provided him with a new horizon. It brought back memories. That of trying to be a mediator within a broken family, even in childhood.

•••

Steve never spent much time around William anyway, so when he left quickly, you didn't mind, you were relieved. Noticing that Dr. Reid wasn't going to move away, you sighed, hiding the nail mark against your own body as you watched him enter the room you were in.

"Hey, honey, want to play a little?" you asked, taking your cell phone out of your pocket and handing it to your son, who quickly agreed and went to the corner of the 'big room', as he called it, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"I never knew your name."

You snorted, wondering how that was the first thing he chose to say, but in the end, he did say your name.

"You don't have to hide it, I've already seen it." Spencer continued, making sure to speak quietly so that the child wouldn't hear them and to keep the anger out of his voice.

You swallowed, wondering what you had done to deserve two humiliations in a row on the same day, trying to force yourself to remain calm and expressionless, assessing how much of a risk the mysterious doctor could be to you or your child.

"I'm sorry about William again today, it'll never happen again."

Spencer couldn't stop himself from analyzing you, and what he saw brought him the most mixed emotions. You were profiling him too. You are a profiler for survival, someone who needs to know how to act in every situation so as not to get hurt. It made your head spin, your throat dry and your hands twitch. "It's called empathy. Use it to be a better person," Derek once told him.

"You know this is a crime; I can arrest him right now if you want; this room has cameras, and you're... you're hurt."

To his surprise, you laughed in his face. A bitter laugh. The kind he wished you'd never hear again.

"Are you an idiot, Dr. Reid?" you asked, without any humor. "Is that how you sleep best at night? Look around you, see where we are. In a police station full of men. Do you think you're the first to see something like that in me?"

Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke and you felt the uncontrollable urge to channel all your anger at Dr. Spencer Reid, pointing at the wound on his arm, the little blood already dried. This made the agent sigh. He had never really been able to understand how someone could hurt a person they had sworn to love so deeply.

"Well, the FBI wasn't here before."

You just sighed, pressing your lips together to stop a torrent of tears. He would never know that fear like you did. Even if Steve was still arrested, what would you do next? How would you be able to raise your son in a place like this, where your husband was the model citizen of the city and you were the bitch who put him in prison?

"You just don't understand. Please go away, Dr. Reid."

Go away, and don't you dare even try to give me false hope because I killed them all for my own good a long time ago, you thought.

Spencer couldn't accept that it would end like this. There had to be something, there had to be a way. Not for the first time in his life, he thought that people should come with a manual. It was time to do your job, even if you felt terrible about using your weakness against yourself.

"And is it worth it? Raising a child in such an environment?"

"I've managed to keep Will away for five years. So as long as he's safe, yes, it's worth it," you replied, your back to him.

Spencer sighed, squeezing his thigh as he cursed himself for influencing you like that. All for the greater good.

"Except that he already knows. Kids are a lot more observant than people think."

You turned like lightning.

"What are you talking about?"

You couldn't. You couldn't lose the only certainty you had in life. That Will was your sea of positivity, away from everything that was really going on at home, growing up happily, without any resentment. You swore that when he was born. It was the only promise it would kill you to break.

Spencer hated being the cause of the look of terror on his face this time, but like all the other times in his life when it was necessary, he took courage and started telling.

Taglist (if you want in or out, just let me know):

@yokaimoon @fanfic-viewer

A/n: I was wonderfully surprised by how well received the first part was. I hope you enjoy the second as much. Thank you for your support

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 58

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Tuesday, February 23rd; 9:00 AM - Manchester

I finish getting ready, adjusting the suit Lucy kindly lent me as I look at myself in the mirror. The beautiful days in the snow feel like a distant memory since our return to the city. We’re back to our responsibilities after a relaxing weekend. I smile when I see Lucy approaching me in the reflection, wrapping her hands around my waist.

- "This outfit looks amazing on you."

I blush at her open compliment. I was just about to ask her how I looked, but I forgot that Lucy no longer hesitates to say what she used to keep to herself. It’s a pleasant change, considering she used to only play the serious, emotionless role.

- "Thank you... But it’s your outfit, remember?"

Not having anything suitable in my suitcase for a professional meeting, Lucy had to lend me some clothes. The only things I’m wearing that are mine are my underwear and black pants. Lucy let me borrow her little black boots, a white shirt, and her suit jacket. Fortunately, we’re the same size. I love borrowing her clothes, and the best part is, she doesn’t mind. In fact, I get the impression that she likes it.

- "Well, if it means seeing you look this stunning every time, I’ll keep lending you my clothes."

I smile shyly before leaning back slightly to find her lips. It’s almost time to leave, and it’s making me increasingly anxious. Waking up wasn’t difficult, surprisingly. I’ve been sleeping like a baby since I’ve been back in Lucy’s arms. I can’t say the same for breakfast, though. I could barely eat anything after my shower. Since we spent the last couple of days lazing around, I had plenty of time to think and prepare for my interview. I worked on it so much that Lucy had to force me to take a break, saying I was overdoing it. The problem is, I have no idea who I’m dealing with or what the outcome will be. For all I know, it could be nothing. I’m afraid of being disappointed. Lucy is very optimistic about it. She seems to expect a lot, which only adds to the pressure. I’m terrified of messing it all up with my usual clumsiness. She tried to reassure me, but it didn’t help much. She then added that I should just be myself and everything would go well. However, I rarely manage to be myself in situations like this. Panic always takes over. I wanted to know what the gallery director looks like, but Lucy told me she’s only spoken to him on the phone, though he sounded very friendly. She thinks he’s young. The fact that she simply believes in me makes my stomach turn. When I noticed she was getting frustrated with my behavior because it was affecting her, I thought back to the amazing week we just had. It was so enlightening and at the same time very soothing. I felt like I found myself again, and for the first time in a long time, I opened up. Not just to Lucy in our relationship, but also to her friends and mine. I can’t even remember the last time I so easily let people into my private circle. It was really a good idea. It even improved Lucy’s relationship with Mapi and Alexia. Thinking about all that gave me the courage I needed for what’s coming in a few hours. I’ve made progress, and there’s reason to believe in myself.

- "Are you ready?"

- "Panicked," I murmured.

- "Everything will be fine," she replies, kissing my cheek. "I’ll be waiting for you."

- "You’re going to see the girls in town, then?" I asked.

She told me she’d be meeting up with Ingrid and Mapi after exchanging messages with Ingrid yesterday. I would have loved to join them, but duty calls elsewhere.

- "Yeah, but don’t worry. Just send me a message when you’re done, and I’ll be there. And, if something positive comes out of this interview, I’ll let you celebrate tonight with no limits."

- "That’s a very dangerous comment, Miss Bronze."

- "And I’ll take responsibility for it," she smiles playfully.

- "I’ll make sure to remind you of that."

- "You’ve proven that you can be responsible, so I can make an effort too."

I smile, thinking back to Saturday night. The girls were really feeling it the next day. We haven’t seen each other since, but we’ve been texting a lot. I’m glad I stayed sober. I’ve earned some trust points with Lucy. It’s crazy how we’re all swimming in an ocean of happiness. I’m very happy, just like my best friend who’s staying with Ingrid, and Alexia with Jenni. I hope things continue this way for a long time. By the way, we’re all meeting at The United tonight. I love that place, so I was immediately up for going. I hope I’ll get a chance to let loose, especially since Lucy is allowing it. In any case, I have no choice but to ace this interview. I’m fully aware that I’m playing for an important career. I take a deep breath as I look at myself one last time.

- "Let’s go. I’ll be late otherwise."

- "You’re perfect, no matter what he says. Don’t forget that."

I return her smile timidly, nodding. I don’t quite believe her words, but they give me courage. She kisses the back of my head one last time before stepping back. I know exactly what that means. It’s really time to go. Without a word, we both leave the bedroom and head to the living room. I feel at home with the ease I feel in this environment. Lucy makes me feel at home, and that’s all I needed. We put on our jackets and shoes from the wardrobe by the front door, then finally step outside. The accumulated stress doesn’t help me stay calm. I need to touch or occupy myself with anything I can as we drive. Noticing this, Lucy eventually places her hand on my thigh.

- "Hey, it’s just an interview, OK?"

- "You don’t understand. This is the chance of a lifetime."

- "If it doesn’t work out, we’ll look elsewhere," she says with determination.

I smile timidly, trying to convince myself of the best outcome. Lucy has always been more optimistic than me. That’s partly why I love her. She’s always been my light in the darkness. The ride feels endless in the silence I’ve caused. Her hand never stops caressing my thigh, though. She’s forced to remove it when we arrive so she can park. I’m relieved to see we’re much earlier than I feared. It must have taken us barely ten minutes. I expected the gallery to be in the heart of downtown and that it would take us longer to get there. I frown, looking around. This neighborhood doesn’t seem like it could host a gallery. It’s just an ordinary street with lots of houses. I glance at Lucy, who’s smiling.

- "Was this a joke?"

I ask hesitantly, dreading the answer. Disappointment already starts to grow within me, along with a hint of annoyance as her grin widens.

- "I’d never play such a bad joke on you."

- "Then where are we?"

- "At an annex of the gallery. This is the address I received for the interview," she says, pointing ahead.

I look straight ahead and see a renovated warehouse with a garage door as an entrance. I bite my lip, not sure what to think. It’s certainly an unusual place. I’m an artist at heart, so I love unusual things, but it’s unsettling for a major gallery to work in a place like this. My confidence only continues to fade. Noticing this, Lucy makes me look at her by grabbing my face between her hands.

- "Take a deep breath, baby."

I do as she asks, inhaling deeply while closing my eyes. It’s amazing the trust I have in her. She believes in me, and that’s all that matters. I smile slightly, feeling her lips against mine. I can’t afford to disappoint her after everything she’s done for me. It’s the least I can do for her. When I open my eyes, she greets me with her usual smile.

- Will you come pick me up?

- Of course, I’ve already told you. Just send me a text, and I’ll be there in a minute, she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ll never be far away.

I nod, returning her smile softly. I can do this. For her. I give her one last kiss before unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door.

- See you later.

- See you later, my love.

I close the door on those final words. That nickname still makes my stomach flutter. I’m not bold enough to call her that yet. I’ve done it over text, but that’s different. I hope it will come naturally in time. Although she doesn’t complain about my hesitancy, I know that it could become an issue in the long run if I don’t change. I take a deep breath and check the time as I stand in front of the garage door. I’m early, but punctuality is always a good thing at work, right? I force myself not to look back where Lucy is still sitting in the car. Even though this place scares me, I need to prove I can handle things on my own. With a surge of courage, I knock on the metal door, which echoes loudly in the deserted street. Shortly after, a door I hadn’t noticed next to the garage opens. I blush at my mistake as a man with graying hair appears. He doesn’t seem to notice, smiling warmly at me. Despite his gray hair, he looks like he’s in his forties. He has a rather neat appearance, dressed in a suit without a tie or bow tie, and wearing loafers. His hair is shorter on the sides and barely styled on top, as if he just ran his hand through it with some gel. That’s probably what happened.

- Good morning, he says, cutting through my daze with his deep voice. You must be Ona Batlle?

- P-pardon... Good morning... That’s me.

I awkwardly shake his extended hand. He chuckles softly and opens the door wider, inviting me inside. Before stepping in, I glance back one last time at Lucy’s car. Unfortunately, it’s too far away to see her inside, though I’m sure she hasn’t missed a moment of this first encounter. Reluctantly, I turn back and step into this unfamiliar place. I feel uneasy, even more so with a stranger.

- Don’t be nervous, he says, closing the door behind us. My name is Bennett Fields. May I speak informally with you?

I stop myself from frowning. He started talking informally right from the beginning, so it’s odd that he’s asking now. It’s not like I would refuse.

- Of course, I say without thinking.

I glance around. From here, the place looks much less intimidating than it did outside. It’s warmer and much brighter than I expected. I understand why when I see a large glass window at the back of the room that opens onto a courtyard. The room isn’t very deep, but I notice an opening on the right. As I imagined, this isn’t a gallery but a studio. A studio well-stocked with supplies. It’s a paradise for an enthusiast like me.

- Glad to see you like the place.

I smile awkwardly and focus my attention back on him. The idea of being alone with a man I don’t know makes me nervous.

- I’ve never seen so many supplies in one place, I admit with admiration.

- I appreciate the spark of passion in your eyes. I must confess, this is the first time I’ve welcomed someone so young into my space, he says as he walks deeper into the room.

I quickly follow, trying to keep from daydreaming any further. I tend to get lost in thought when it comes to art, making it difficult to stay focused. We take the opening at the back. It leads to a hallway where the glass windows continue on our left. On the other side, there are also windows set in a black steel frame. It gives the place a true industrial feel, which I love.

- So why did you agree to meet with me?

The words slip out before I can stop them. Even though he turns to smile at me again, I feel foolish.

- Initially, I was very impressed with the talent displayed in your portfolio. When I tried to contact you directly, I was surprised to learn that I had to go through someone else first.

I bite my lip, knowing full well he’s talking about Lucy. He stops in front of another glass panel on our right. The doors have been carelessly left open. I see a much larger space than the entrance. This is where the artists work. Numerous easels with canvases on them stand in every corner of the room. In the middle, there’s a huge table with supplies already laid out. I can tell people have been here by the still-wet paint on one of the canvases. This discovery reassures me slightly. At least I’m not alone with him. The glass windows bring in a lot of light. Anyone who appreciates art knows that daylight is the best source.

- I learned that this person shared your portfolio without your knowledge, he continues as we walk down the hallway. We had a long conversation about you and the reasons that prompted her to do so, he says, finally stopping in front of a door.

When he opens it, I see it’s an office. He enters first, so I follow. With a wave of his hand, he invites me to sit in a chair in front of his desk, which I do without hesitation. I’m relieved not to have brought my bag or anything else cumbersome. He sits across from me, resting his chin on his hands, which he’s clasped together, and looks straight into my eyes.

- This person spoke very highly of you. She seems to care a great deal about you and believes in your abilities. She made me even more curious about you. I was slightly hesitant because of your school’s reputation, but she assured me that everyone has different struggles, and that unlike others, you’re a very decent person.

He pauses to take a deep breath.

- In short, if I invited you here, it’s because I wanted to meet you in person and form my own opinion. While I trust her words, I like to know who I’m dealing with.

I swallow hard and nod. I should have expected this. I did expect everything he just said. I even told Lucy that it was strange for him to welcome someone from our school, but she didn’t want to believe me. It seems she managed to sell me well. He keeps smiling at me. So far, I can’t quite figure him out. He’s warmer than I anticipated. I pictured him much older, more wrinkled, and less well-groomed.

- So, Ona Batlle... I’m not expecting you to talk about your life or professional background. I already know you graduated from high school and that you’ve been at Camp Wiegman since this year.

- Then what do you want me to talk about?

- The answer seems rather obvious... If I brought you here, it’s to talk about art. So, how did you develop your talents?

I shrug, not really knowing how to answer that question. There’s not much to say, really.

"I've always enjoyed drawing. I've been doing it constantly since childhood. I suppose it's an activity that has always helped clear my mind."

The man in front of me leans back in his chair, scratching the small beard growing on his chin. He seems to be absorbing my words with interest.

"So, if I understand correctly, you've never taken any classes or had an art teacher?"

I shake my head. My father wanted to enroll me in classes when he noticed that it was all I did, but my mother found it impossible. No one could take me when my father wasn't around, which was half the year. There were my grandparents, but they were still working at the time. They had a small shop they kept until they managed to sell it, since my father wasn't going to take it over given his job.

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Where do you find your inspiration, then?"

I tense up at this question, though I was expecting it. Every artist draws inspiration from somewhere. Mine was dark for many years. However, I'm not sure if that's still the case since Lucy came into my life. Based on my sketchbooks, it seems like she's managed to chase away all the negative thoughts from my mind. He hasn't even had the chance to see my worst works.

"My family, my friends," I reply vaguely. "Most of the time, I just recreate what I see around me."

"The sketchbook I saw had landscapes. Did they mean something to you?"

"Yes... I was in conflict with the person I saw them with. I needed to release my frustration and their absence."

He gives a small, mischievous smile that quickly disappears as he regains his seriousness.

"Have you ever tried doing anything other than reproductions?"

"No... Well, very rarely. I've tried, but I always felt like it didn’t look right. However, I do draw portraits sometimes, and though I haven't done much, I've always wanted to learn abstract and contemporary art."

He nods without giving away what he's thinking. As I say this, I feel like I'm admitting I can't do much. Nowadays, reproductions don't impress people anymore. Yet that's what I do. I'm just an amateur, and that’s exactly what makes me doubt my abilities.

"Good," he smiles. "All of this is very interesting. Your mentor wasn’t wrong about you."

I bite my tongue at the term he uses for Lucy. I would have preferred that he didn't know that kind of thing. Especially since she's my girlfriend now.

"I have one last question for you. I promised your mentor I wouldn't push you too hard, so I'll understand if you don't want to answer."

I nod, frowning slightly. Lucy must have talked to him at length for him to know so much about me.

"I know you have a painful past, according to your mentor. I'd like to know if it's still your source of inspiration?"

"No," I answer without hesitation. "I had dark paintings for a long time, but I recently met someone who helped me move out of that phase. It's when I think of that person that I now draw my inspiration."

A new smile appears on his face. It feels like he knows exactly who I'm talking about. I hope I'm wrong. To my surprise, he doesn't say anything else and gets up from his chair.

"What do you think about giving me a little demonstration? I'm intrigued by what you can actually do, and I'd like to see for myself how you handle a brush."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Of course. I'd like to see how you work in your element. Then, if the results are satisfying, we can talk about what's next. What do you think?"

I nod enthusiastically. Talking about what’s next. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Although everything isn’t settled yet, he's giving me hope that it might happen. I hope I can make a good impression with my technique now. Lucy was right about one thing when she tried to reassure me—I’m in my element here. I have nothing to be afraid of. If nothing works out here, then I'll be motivated to try elsewhere. Lucy was right; here, I’m in my element. I shouldn’t be afraid to be in my element, or else I’ll never feel comfortable anywhere.

"Alright," he smiles. "Let's get to it. I'm eager to see what you can do."

I expected the interview to be much longer and more personal. Yet, he stayed very focused on questions related to art, and that motivates me to show him what I'm capable of. He also managed to make me feel comfortable around him. Without any hesitation, I follow him to the workshop we passed earlier. As we exit, I notice he didn't even close the door behind him. Who doesn’t close the door during an interview? A small smile spreads across my lips at the thought that Lucy might have ordered him to do such a thing, though I could be wrong. As I focus on the room from earlier, I notice it’s no longer empty. A woman in her thirties has appeared. She’s continuing the painting I noticed when I first arrived. I greet her timidly as I continue to follow Mr. Fields. He stops in front of an easel at the back of the room, surrounded by various materials. It looks like he planned all this. I don't even know where to look. Seeing this, he smiles again.

"Go ahead, have fun, and above all, don’t hold back your imagination. That’s where your inspiration comes from, after all."

For the first time since I got here, I genuinely smile. The thought of having all this to myself, even for just one painting, excites me like a three-year-old child who just got a present. Without hesitation, I grab a brush to start my painting, with my only inspiration being the emerald eyes of my girlfriend.

Tuesday, February 23; 2:15 PM - Manchester

With a heavy heart full of hope, we're back at the warehouse. I think the interview went well. Mr. Fields insisted that I eat with him and a few of the artists who were there today. I couldn't really refuse, so I accepted after informing Lucy. I loved being with them. They made me feel comfortable, and they talked a lot about how they ended up here. Now that we’re back, I realize it’s the end of the meeting when Mr. Fields shakes my hand.

"Thank you for your warm welcome."

"It was my pleasure. I'll contact you once I've made my decision. In the meantime, I wish you good luck with your final exams, and maybe I'll see you soon."

I watch him return to the warehouse before breaking into a big smile. I hope this works out! I was about to send a message to Lucy so she could come pick me up, but I see that she’s already there when I turn toward the spot where she was this morning. I quickly cross the street and get into the car. I don’t give her time to speak before I kiss her without restraint. None of this would have been possible without her. Lucy giggles against my lips, gently pushing me back.

"Hey," she says with a hint of amusement. "I take it everything went well?"

"It was amazing! I think I have a chance. I mean, he was really cool with me. We talked a bit, and then he let me draw. A lot, actually! He even helped me improve on some things. Obviously, I still have a lot to learn, but I think he’s really interested in my profile, and—"

- "Wow, breathe, Ona," she laughs.

I stop to actually catch my breath. Without warning, I cradle her face and kiss her again. I’m feeling so emotional right now, and it makes me want to be as close to her as possible. She gently places her hands on my wrists to calm me down again. I pull away, blushing with embarrassment.

- "Just thank you. Thank you for everything. This is all thanks to you."

- "I didn't do much. You should thank yourself for your obvious talent."

- "I'm not thanking you for that. Well, yes, of course, but mostly I’m thanking you for all the support you’ve given me. Because of you, I might finally have the future I’ve always wanted. I needed someone who believed in me more than I believed in myself, so thank you."

Lucy's expression softens at my words. She smiles tenderly and kisses my cheek.

- "The pleasure is all mine, my love. And now, how about you tell me what he said, hmm?"

It seems her curiosity is suddenly piqued. So, I start recounting everything from the beginning as she starts driving. I begin with the interview, which felt too short in my opinion. Then, I tell her about when I started painting. For the first time in my life, I tried painting something abstract. Mr. Fields was rather amused, knowing that I had never done it before, but he appreciated my boldness in trying to impress him. However, he eventually stopped me, preferring that I paint something I was more comfortable with. He then suggested that one of his employees pose for me. I had no trouble doing that, and that’s when he started giving me pointers on some of my techniques. After that, I couldn’t stop. I kept painting, over and over, in my element.

- "You must have really enjoyed the interview if you agreed to have lunch with them."

I blush and nod. Coming here, I never imagined I would stay so long or feel so comfortable in the end. If I wasn’t sure before, I now know that I want to make art my career.

- "Yeah, it was really cool."

- "What did he say about what happens next?"

- "He was surprised by what I can do without taking a single class. Before we left for the restaurant, he told me that if he takes me under his wing, I’ll have to take classes to improve and expand my knowledge. I hope my skills and motivation will convince him to keep me."

- "I have no doubt about that, baby. I’m sure you managed to impress him."

I smile as she places her hand on my knee. I love that she does that every time we’re driving somewhere. It makes me feel like I belong to her.

- "Now you just have to keep your promise for tonight," I tease.

A genuine laugh escapes her lips.

- "I suppose so, yes. I never doubted that everything would go well, you know."

- "Then why did you say that?"

- "Because you’ve become much more reasonable than you were a few months ago. The fact that you were drinking didn’t bother me. It was the fact that you were overdoing it and had no limits."

I bite my lip, fully understanding what she means. I’m not that reckless girl anymore, and now she trusts me. Even if I drink to the point of not remembering, she won’t hold it against me like she used to. Especially now that she’ll always be by my side. I’ve realized why she refused to let me go to parties for so long. She wanted me to learn the lesson, not punish me forever.

- "And by the way... How are the girls doing?"

Her deep groan makes it clear that she must have had a terrible morning.

- "Full of energy, if you ask me. Instead of helping with my stress, they spent their time making fun of me."

- "You should have expected that," I giggle. "Who would have thought they’d end up together," I say thoughtfully. "I still can’t quite wrap my head around it."

- "I’m happy they did," she admits to me. "They’re perfect for each other. And at least we know they’re both doing well."

- "You never told me much about Ingrid. I mean, I knew you were close, but I never knew how."

- "She was a great support to me when Keira died. She started off as just my manager, then became an instructor, but she quickly became a great friend. She helped me get out and introduced me to her friends who became mine... And Jenni became hers."

- "You’re a solid group."

- "We are," she smiles softly. "We each have our own stories."

- "Does Ingrid have one?"

- "You could say that. She was estranged from her parents, so she left home early to strike out on her own."

- "Is that why you think they’re made for each other?"

- "In a way... You see, they didn’t have anyone else besides their friends... So yes, I think they’re meant to be together, if only for that reason. They’ll have the chance to form a new family if things last between them."

I nod in agreement. She’s right. The one thing Mapi was missing was a family. Of course, she always said I was her family, but I could tell something was missing. I could have been that for her if we had been together, but that wasn’t the case. Ingrid is her new family, and that thought warms my heart for my best friend. At least this time, I really like her new girlfriend. I take a deep breath, thinking about a second thing Lucy mentioned. She rarely talks about Keira, so I gently prompt her to continue.

- "So Keira brought you closer... Her death affected your work too, didn’t it?"

- "A lot, yes," she replies without hesitation. "Keira loved that I took this job when I started. She always said I would save many people like her. I was supposed to start right after her death, so my work became very personal. I became cold but deeply involved in every case I had to handle."

- "That’s how you earned your nickname, Commander," I murmur. "Is that why you don’t like it when I call you that?"

Her hand tightens on my thigh for a moment, but she nods.

- "Yeah... I’m sorry, baby."

- "Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’re talking to me about it. Was I the only one with a drug problem?"

- "No, but you were the only one I had to personally take care of. Honestly, your addiction surprised me. Wiegman had promised not to give me such cases, especially after Keira. So, I expected many things from you, but not that."

- "Why did he do it then...?"

- "I’m still asking myself that question today. He knew your mother. He wanted to resolve your case in a year, and I think deep down, he knew I was the only one who would understand you."

- "And he wasn’t wrong," I affirm.

- "He wasn’t wrong," she confirms. "I defended you on things he didn’t expect. That’s why he trusts me so much with you. It’s a good compromise given our relationship."

We’ve arrived back at her building. This conversation was enlightening and more unsettling than I expected. I turn to her when we’re parked.

- "Lucy," I start hesitantly.

- "Don’t say anything."

- "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

- "Yes, I do," she says with amusement. "And now is not the time to tell me you love me."

My open mouth closes immediately. How did she know? The words have been on the tip of my tongue for some time now, but I haven’t been able to say them yet.

- "Your eyes tell me enough, Ona, but please, say it when you’re really ready. You’re too emotional right now, and I don’t want you to say it impulsively."

I hate it when she’s right. I feel so foolish that I blush stupidly. She unbuckles her seatbelt while looking me straight in the eyes.

- "Well, how about we bake some cookies before we get ready for tonight? I did some shopping, and I think Joan will be delighted to have some when she comes over tomorrow."

- "Oh yes, that’s a great idea. He loves them."

- "I have no doubt he does, if he loves them as much as you do," she giggles.

[norrizzandpia]

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: With time apart, will Lando and Y/n set aside the mistakes they’ve made to make room for their love or will the fights take over and, in turn, their love become a story of the past?

Warnings: basically depression, getting evicted? Is that a trigger (lmk if i missed anything as always xx)

The months following Y/n walking out on Lando were pure hell for both parties involved. His performance in races plummeted as he stopped showing up for training sessions, meetings, and everything else in between. It didn’t matter how many pep talks each driver gave him with the end goal of at least getting him out of bed, he stopped being funny, charismatic, and optimistic Lando. The 23-year-old male became a shell of a human, completely swallowed whole by the void Y/n left in her wake. No one had seen him in that kind of pain ever. Most of the time, Lando would take a day to wallow, but he always ended up picking himself back up and trying again. But, with hours spent crying alone and days spent on autopilot, no one saw an end in sight.

Y/n, on the other hand, took the louder approach at trying to rid herself of the saddened feeling. Going to parties and drinking until she couldn’t walk straight became the norm for her. She was so afraid to be left alone to her thoughts, with her phone, with herself. She didn’t want to find out how excruciating the pain of losing Lando was once the alcohol stopped flowing and the music stopped playing.

However bittersweet, what it took to get her life to catch up with her was the day she held eviction papers in her hands. She had gotten home at 2 AM only to find a neon yellow sheet taped to her door. Honestly, she had been waiting for it to happen. With being unemployed and distracting herself from thoughts of Lando and everything they could have been, she stopped paying her bills. While dangerous, she couldn’t care what happened to herself. With news of Lando not doing well after they parted ways, she blamed herself for both of their pain. So, she clutched the bolded words in her small hands as tears welled in her eyes. Sobbing, she had called Daniel that night, pleading with him to come over and help claw her way out of the biggest hole she had ever dug for herself.

“Y/n?” Daniel’s groggy voice filtered through the speakers of the phone.

“Daniel.” Her choked sobs woke him up immediately, coincidentally jolting Heidi awake as he jumped out of bed to throw some clothes on, waving goodbye to his girlfriend and letting her know he would explain later.

By the time he was out of the door, her tears had quieted and she began filling him in on everything he had missed in the few months she had gone silent, “I’ve been evicted.”

His heart stopped, “What?”

Her tears returned, “Yep! I’m homeless now. I guess this is karma. I’ve ruined Lando’s life, I’ve ruined mine. I just ruin things. I hurt people and I destroy relationships and I stop everyone around me from being happy. God, I suck, don’t I? I mean, I had it all. I had Lando, he was telling me everything I wanted to hear. Jesus, he was begging me to stay and I still left! I can’t let myself be happy!”

Daniel’s heart broke for the girl on the other side of the phone as he sped to her house, “Y/n, none of that is true. You didn’t ruin anyone’s life. Your feelings were and are valid. You don’t destroy everything around you. You never have and you never will. Everyone loves you, Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He continued to reassure her as he drove to her. Listening to her cries of anguish only reaffirmed the fact that someone, anyone, had to force the couple to make amends.

—

“Lando? You in there?” Carlos asked through the door. A quiet murmur told the Spaniard his friend was, in fact, resting within his driver’s suite. Opening the door, he was met with Lando, sitting on the floor with the contents of his backpack spilled out in front of him.

Brows furrowed, Carlos crouched down to meet the London boy’s level, “What are you doing?”

Lando’s hands flew over the pile of contents, “I’m looking for a birthday card.”

Carlos shook his head, “A birthday card?”

Lando nodded frantically, seemingly in immense panic, “Yes! A birthday card! Y/n gave it to me last year and I never take it out of my backpack because I usually want to read it over again before a race! But, I can’t find it, Carlos! I can’t fucking find it anywhere!”

His breaths picked up as his voice broke. Carlos, gently, placed his hands over his friend’s swinging arms and held them tightly as to stop their flailing.

“Lando, you need to breathe.” Carlos said pointedly as he stared at the blue eyes across from him, filled with so much pain and regret.

Lando always tried to hide his tears from other people. Knowing that he was the happy and joyful one, it always felt wrong to show feelings of sadness in front of others. However, Y/n had shown him that showing that specific feeling was okay, that it allowed others to be able to connect with him on a deeper level. So, this time, he didn’t try to hide the tears that fought to fall from his face.

Lando’s hands rubbed over his eyes as he quietly said, “It’s the last thing I have of her and it’s gone, just like she is. I can’t take this anymore. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. The thought of never seeing her again…” Carlos squeezed his shoulders, “That couldn’t have been the end of us, right?”

Carlos shook his head, “I don’t think it is, Lando. I think you’ll find your way back to each other, whether that’s tomorrow or in 50 years.”

Lando sighed, “But, I can’t wait 50 years.”

“Then, you have to fight for her.”

—

“What happens if she walks out?” Lando asked Daniel as they made their way toward Daniel’s front door.

“Then, you follow her.” Daniel retorted as they came to a stop in front of the large slab of wood, “Listen, Lando, it’s going to be hard, but you just have to be persistent. That is until you’re sure she doesn’t want to hear from you. But, I don’t think that’s a possibility. Ever since she’s moved in with me, I’ve gotten to catch her scrolling through old photos of the two of you or text messages you used to share. Trust me, mate, she’s still head over heels for you.”

Lando blushed and nodded his head, “Thank you for everything. For helping me plan all of this and allowing me to talk to her. I know how much you want to protect her from our lives.”

Daniel sighed, “You’re right, I do. She’s like a little sister, you know? But, I do know that, without you, she’s miserable and that’s worse to watch than her going through paparazzi.”

Pushing the door open and taking a deep breath, Lando whispered a thank you to Daniel before making his way through the foyer.

“Daniel? Is that you? I’m finishing up dinner right now!” Her voice yelled throughout the house and when it met Lando’s ears, he was hit with a large feeling of comfort. After all these years, she had become his home, it wasn’t a physical place or written address, it was just her.

Stepping into the kitchen, Lando stood and observed her while she had her back to him. The way she moved about the space with a small sense of confidence. The level at which she was carrying herself didn’t match the amount of self-assurance she used to have, but he had also been informed by Daniel that her mental health had taken a hit after all this time apart, something that hurt him more than her walking out on him could ever have.

As she turned around and her eyes landed on the boy she had dreamt of for so long, she faltered.

“Wha-” Words were lost on her, “What are you doing here?”

Lando breathed deeply, “I know everything that happened between us before was messy and we thought that was it, but I refuse to let you go that easy.”

She shook her head, “I’m confused. What are you saying?”

He took a step toward her and, thankfully, this time, she didn’t take one back, “I’m saying that I love you. I always have. Since the moment we met in the McLaren building where you asked me where Zak’s office was, I’ve been in love with you. I’m so sorry for everything I said in that interview. I never wanted to tell you about my feelings that way because I’ve always known you deserve so much. If I could take it all back and redo that moment over again, I would. If I could do it again, I would’ve told you how in love with you I am when I realized it which was, like, 2 months in. I was stupid to think I could stop my feelings for you by dating around and seeing what other people were out there because, in the end, I won’t ever be able to help falling in love with you.”

At his words, she took a step closer, so did he, “Not being with you is like if someone took cheese off pizza.” The two chuckled, “See! It’s ridiculous! Absolutely, positively stupid because they go together, they always have. That’s how I am with you. Without you, I’m not the same person and, now that I know that, I’m going to keep fighting for you, for us, until it works out. I love who I am with you, so does everyone else. It’s always been written in the story of my life to be with you because it’s a necessity. You have always been written into the story of my life because I’ve never loved anyone as hard as I do you and I’m incredibly sure that will never change.”

Now, standing so close to each other, Y/n looked into the eyes of the man she had missed so much and found herself forgiving him for the mistakes he made. With glass eyes and a quivering lip, she pulled him into her arms, “Lando, I’ve missed you.”

His arms squeezed her waist as he nuzzled his head in her neck, “I’ve missed you too, my love. You’ll never understand how much.”

They stood like that for a few moments before Lando’s head tugged backward and he captured her eyes with his, “Wait, you never said it.”

Tilting her head, Y/n asked, “Said what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “You know!”

She was about to protest until she realized what she had failed to say back in the heat of the moment, so she smiled and kissed his lips lightly before pulling back, her breath fanning across his face as she said, “I love you too. Always have and always will.”

Finally, the words that brought the light back into Lando’s life.

So, take my hand.

Take my whole life too.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

[madhatterbri]

All Fell Down | Damian Priest

Summary: Y/N was in a relationship with Finn Balor. She starts getting closer with Damian Priest. He gets injured, and Finn finds out about their relationship.

@theworldofotps

"Just don't get with Damian, ya?" Finn asked one day at the bar. The two of you were drinking one night at the hotel bar after RAW. You stared at your ex-boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. The Irish man was never one to tell you who to date. "He's my best friend, and I wouldn't want things to get weird between us,"

You turned your head to the Puerto Rican wrestler he was referring to. He sat in a quiet booth in the corner. His head rolled back, and his eyes closed. Air pods were in his ear. An open book is left on the table with his glasses laid next to it.

"Come on, Finn," you chuckled and shoved his shoulder. As much as Damian was your friend, he wasn't your type. "Damian and I are friends, and we are professionals. I know how much Judgment Day means to you. I would never want to put you in an awkward situation,"

Finn smiled and rubbed his shoulder. "I know. I just needed the reassurance,"

"To friends," you cheered and took another swig of your drink. "And the best faction in WWE history,"

Finn's eyes lingered on you as you drink from your glass. A hint of sadness in them at the title he regretted giving you the day you two broke up.

Friends.

🖤💜

Weeks passed since that conversation, and everything was going well for you. You couldn't lie. The transition from NXT to RAW was a little rocky. Once things finally settled, you came out on top. Now, there were rumors that you may have a title shot soon to give you an opportunity at a major push.

Hanging out with Damian and Finn helped your transition as well. They were always willing to give you pointers. The three of you spent a lot of time traveling together. As much as you enjoyed getting close to Finn again, something drew you to Damian.

"Looking good out there," the archer of infamy complimented and nudged your arm. He leaned against the railing of the elevator with you.

"Good? More like great," you puffed out your chest. He snickered and rolled his eyes.

"Take it easy," he spoke his now infamous catch phrase. "Anymore air in that head, and you'll float away,"

"Would you try to catch me?" You asked and giggled. He looked at you weird yet smiled. You moved from the railing and faced him. You took a few steps back. "Oh no, it's happening. My head is filling with air,"

Your hands frantically touched your face. Your fingers lingered over your cheeks. You puffed your cheeks. He rolled his eyes as you walked backward on your heels.

"Very funny, Y/N," he spoke sternly yet couldn't hide the amusement in his face. The elevator suddenly jerked. Panic shined in your eyes as you reached out to grab anything to not fall and hit your head against the elevator doors.

Damian grabbed your hand and pressed you to him. His arms wrapped around your waist. A hand placed on the small of your back.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You placed your cheek on his chest. A tiny nod answered his question. He didn't move his hands away from you. The spark you felt for him is now a full flame.

"Damian," you whispered and looked up at him. His brown eyes stared into yours. You were scared the butterflies in your stomach would take over the elevator. "I like you.... a lot. I'm so afraid of losing you, of losing our friendship,"

The confession hung in the tense elevator. He gulped, trying to think of anything to tell you. He wanted to hear those words for so long. Damian knew he couldn't screw this up.

"You wouldn't be losing me, princesa. We are just getting a little more out of our friendship," he assured you. He leaned down to kiss you. You stood up on your toes and connected his lips to yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck.

🖤💜

Your relationship to Damian was kept a secret. The two of you still hung out as friends yet took every quiet moment to be a couple. No one knew, so no one was getting hurt. The promise you made to Finn locked away in the back of your mind. Long forgotten.

"Hey, Damian, can I talk to you for a second?" Balor asked during a RAW event. Damian looked away from the television. He was watching your match to see if there was anything that needed to be tweaked.

"Yeah, man, I was just watching Y/N. What's up?" Damian asked. Finn looked at the television screen and smiled. You evolved so much since your days in NXT.

"That's actually who I was going to bring up," he informed him. "I'm thinking about asking her out again,"

"What?" Damian asked a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. "I thought you two were over?"

"I know, trust me, I did too. I'm not one to live in the past, but I can't stop thinking about her," Finn confessed. "You two have gotten really close, and I can't ask her this question without looking jealous. Is she seeing anyone?"

Damian nearly panicked. The two of you hadn't really talked about telling Finn yet. Things were still too new. Judgment Day was important to him, but so were you. He couldn't lose you.

"She hasn't mentioned anyone," Damian admitted. "She is an open book. I'm sure she would have said something by now,"

Finn sighed in relief. He rubbed his hands over his head and face. He was going to ask you out tonight. No more waiting. He was going to finally get his girl back.

"I'll ask her after our match tonight. Thanks, man. You are the best friend a guy could ask for,"

Damian smiled, and the men watched as you pinned Teagan Nox.

"Looks like we are next. Let's meet her at the top of the ramp,"

🖤💜

You walked to the top of the ramp and slipped through the curtain. Damian and Finn stood around to meet you. Finn was smiling widely while Damian looked like he was going to a funeral.

"Did something happen?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just wanted to congratulate you after an amazing match," Finn complimented and hugged you. You wrapped your arms around him and looked at Damian in confusion. The hug lasted longer than any of the ones in recent memory. "I'll see you after the match, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be watching backstage. Kick their asses," you smiled. Cody and Jey had been giving them trouble for a while. It was time to eliminate them once and for all.

You watched in the back with Rhea Ripley. Finn was performing at high energy while Damian was distracted. He was still entertaining enough for fans to not notice. Every time he took a heavy hit, you cringed.

"You and Damian make a cute couple, ya know," Rhea commented. Your eyes widened in shock. You turned your head to make up an excuse. "Don't play dumb with me. You guys should tell Finn. You two may be history, but he deserves to know,"

The rest of the match you were lost in your thoughts. The promise you made to Finn played in your head as clear as day. You had to tell Finn together. Rhea cursed next to you. You looked at the screen.

Finn helped Damian up the ramp. The commentarors played it up that the match was brutal. Any wrestler could see he was in pain. His teeth were grit together. His hand held his head. Finn had a panicked look on his face.

You rushed to medical. With no sign of Finn, you made your way in. Damian laid on a bed. An ice pack was pressed to the back of his head. Tears sprung to your eyes.

"Mi corazon, what's wrong?" Damian's deep voice asked. You slowly walked over to him, feeling silly for being emotional. Injuries happened all the time in this business. Now instead of worrying about himself he was taking care of you.

"I was so worried about you," you admitted. He grabbed your hand. He rubbed his thumb gently against your skin.

"A kick to the head. Not my first or my last," he sighed and kissed the top of your hand. "Although if I play this up will you be my nurse and take care of me?"

Before you could answer someone else was in the room with you. The two of you stared in shock as Finn stood by. His face contorted in anger. His pale skin was now an angry red, and his breathing was heavy. Tears pooled at the bottom of his eyes.

"Finn, wait, please," you begged. You walked towards him yet he walked away.

Everything that Finn worked for in his career and personal life all fell down.

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Eleven

ok so life things happened again so i wasn't able to finish this chapter quite as soon as i would have liked, but. considering how long it is i am hoping you'll all have a little bit of mercy on me. i don't know how it got this long, it wasn't supposed to be this long, but i knew i couldn't split it yet again, so. y'know. also i had this song on repeat the whole time i was writing this chapter, if you want the vibes. i don't have much else to say tbh but i hope you enjoy!

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~13k | cw: gender neutral reader, yet another festival sorry, reader has A Lot of anxiety this chapter, reader is nude around an adult they are not related to. nothing at all sexual happens but i wanted to give a heads up about it just in case.

Just as your mother had said, the rest of the week really did fly by. Because it was still winter break for school, Satoru and Suguru had nowhere else to be, so the three of you spent every waking moment together – and even some of the sleeping ones. You still slept in Suguru’s bed, wearing Satoru’s clothes every night, while the boys continued to share Satoru’s bed. You’d expected a fight to break out because of it at some point, but it never had. Which was a good thing, of course, but was still surprising.

The only downside to the week going by so fast was that, before you knew it, you had reached the day of the festival, which you had been dreading ever since Gojo-sama had informed you of it. 

That morning, you were woken by a servant entering the room and calling your name, which, of course, woke all three of you. Still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stepped out from behind the privacy screen that separated Suguru’s bed from the rest of the room. “Is something wrong?” you asked around a yawn.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she assured. “But we need to start getting you ready for tonight’s celebration.”

“Can’t that wait until after breakfast?” Satoru groused, scowling at the servant; even after all these years, he still wasn’t a morning person.

“I’m afraid not, Gojo-dono,” the servant replied with an apologetic smile. “Gojo-sama’s orders.”

Satoru’s scowl only deepened, but you cut in before he could argue.

“It’s fine, ‘Toru,” you told him, hoping you sounded as reassuring as you were trying to be. “I’ll catch up with you guys at lunch, okay? Just go back to sleep.”

He hesitated for a moment, still glowering at the servant, but he finally relented when Suguru bumped him lightly with his shoulder. 

“Fine,” the white haired boy grumbled, though his expression softened slightly as he turned his attention to you. “You can throw a tantrum if they start to bother you,” he said, expression completely serious. “Always works for me.”

Suguru rolled his eyes at the other boy’s words, but offered you a small smile. “We’ll catch up with you later,” he promised. 

Oddly reassured by Satoru’s advice and soothed by Suguru’s promise, you nodded, murmuring one last small goodbye before following the servant out of the room, Takara cradled to your chest as always. 

You were led to a part of the house you’d never been to before – the very center of the house, if you had to guess – and were a bit confused when you were ushered into a bathroom, where there was already a tub of steaming water. 

“But I just took a bath last night,” you said, more than a little confused as you turned to face the servant you had been following. 

“Gojo-sama’s instructions were clear,” she said simply, though she did look a bit apologetic. “He said you were to be bathed and thoroughly scrubbed clean before we dressed you for the event.”

You blinked dumbly for a moment at her words before something clicked in your mind. “You mean… I don’t just get to bathe myself? And I don’t get to dress myself after?”

“That’s correct,” she confirmed, without any sort of change in her expression. “It’s how Gojo-dono has always been prepared for events,” she added, as if that made the concept of being scrubbed and dressed by complete strangers any less horrifying. “It’s just how things are done.”

Though the idea made you more than a little uncomfortable, you weren’t confident enough to try and argue, too overwhelmed already by everything that was happening, and you hadn’t even gotten started.

Thankfully, the servant turned her back and allowed you a small amount of privacy as you undressed and climbed into the tub, after setting Takara on top of your clothes; she was still so small, and you didn’t want her to get cold while you were unable to hold her.

Once you were fully seated in the tub, the servant turned and began gathering the soaps and things she would need to bathe you, allowing you to soak in the hot water for a few moments. When she turned to you, though, she gestured for you to tip your head backwards. “Need to wet your hair so I can wash it,” she explained. Hesitantly, you nodded, then did as she asked. The hot water felt good against your scalp, but the woman’s fingers were anything but gentle as they worked the soap into your hair, her nails raking against your scalp somewhat unpleasantly.

Eventually she rinsed the soap from your hair, then rubbed something that looked a lot like lotion into the strands. Whatever it was smelled strongly of herbs, but you found you didn’t mind it very much. When she told you to stand so she could give you a good scrub, you wanted to refuse, to say you were capable of bathing yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue with her stern expression. So you stood, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as she scrubbed virtually every inch of your body, her movements thorough and efficient, if a bit rougher than you would’ve liked; not having to look at her as she washed you lessened the humiliation you felt, even if only a little.

Once you were deemed satisfactorily clean, the servant sat you back down in the tub and rinsed out whatever it she had put in your hair. Then she ushered you out of the tub, handing you a large, thick towel.

“Dry yourself quickly,” she said, “Then come through that door over there. That’s where we’ll be dressing you and getting you otherwise ready for the event.” As she spoke, she pointed to a door on the other side of the room you hadn’t noticed before – though, granted, you hadn’t been paying much attention. 

You nodded to confirm you understood, then waited until she had left the room to begin drying yourself with the towel. The material was soft, much softer than any other towels your family had ever owned, and that, if nothing else, was a relief. Once you were dried off, you secured the towel around yourself, then turned to Takara, who was sitting up and watching you curiously, head cocked ever so slightly to the right.

“Well,” you told her quietly, attempting a small smile. “Guess we should let them finish getting us ready, hm?” You carefully scooped up the hatchling and the pile of clothes she sat on, not sure if you were meant to leave them behind or not. Crossing the room, you pushed open the door that had been pointed out to you, and your eyes widened at the scene before you.

There were at least three servants in the room, and what seemed to you to be dozens and dozens and dozens of kimonos and coordinating accessories laid out across the multiple vanity tables in the room. Most of them looked like silk, shiny and in a spectrum of more metallic shades. It occurred to you after a moment that they were trying to match your outfit to the color of your dragon as best they could.

Everyone stopped what they were doing when you stepped through the door, turning to look at you with neutral expressions. Until they spotted Takara, at least. When they caught sight of the hatchling, their eyes all flew wide, as if they hadn’t believed she existed until right that moment. Snapping out of whatever trance your dragon seemed to have put them all under, one of the servants, a girl who couldn’t have been more than five or six years older than you, turned to you with a gentle smile.

“Do you have any preference about what colors your accessories are?” she asked kindly. “If we can start narrowing things down now, we can make this as quick for you as possible.”

The question caught you a bit off guard; you hadn’t expected to have any sort of say in the whole process, so you weren’t entirely sure how to even answer the question. “I, uh…” you hesitated, glancing around at everything laid out on the tables to see what your options were. Both fortunately and unfortunately, it seemed there were accessories in every color you could imagine and then some. “I think… could we do green?”

“Of course, there’s plenty of green to work with over there. Is there a specific shade…” the girl trailed off when she saw Takara stirring in your arms, and she gasped softly when the hatchling opened her eyes.

You offered a slightly bashful smile at her reaction, and asked, somewhat redundantly, “Can we try to match her eyes?”

You’d barely gotten a nod in response before the woman who had bathed you came over to you, taking the clothes from your arms and carrying them off to some unknown part of the room, presumably to be taken away and washed. Wordlessly, she ushered you into the center of the room, only stopping once you stood in front of a mirror.

“You’ll have to put her down while we get you dressed,” she told you, with a slight nod towards Takara.

Her words make your heart stop for a moment. She was right, of course, and you knew it, but you desperately did not want to be separated from your only friend in the room, especially since it seemed that getting dressed would not be a quick, simple process. 

“…Where am I supposed to put her?” you asked eventually, still not confident enough to try and defy her, doubly so considering she was just carrying out Gojo-sama’s orders. 

“Over there.” She gestured to the closest vanity table, which had a small section at the end cleared off except for a rather fancy looking cushion. So, after another moment of hesitation, you carried your dragon over to the cushion, carefully setting her down and promising her you weren’t going anywhere.

Once you were back in front of the mirror, the woman circled you slowly, looking you up and down as if trying to imagine exactly how things would fit on you before even attempting to get you into any of the possible outfits – outfits you knew would be far too complicated for you to ever get into or out of on your own. She said nothing when she turned away from you, instead carefully examining all the options laid out. They all looked almost exactly the same to you, but the servant woman clearly had a much more discerning eye than you, and skipped over most of the fabrics without even really considering them.

When she paused in front of one of the outfits, you craned your neck, trying to see which one had caught her attention, but your view was blocked by her torso. She glanced between the clothes and Takara a few times, then picked up the outfit and, still blocking it from your view, walked over to Takara.

“Please don’t touch her!” you blurted, once the woman was standing between you and your dragon. It was the closest thing to an argument you’d made all morning, and you just hoped you wouldn’t be punished for it.

“I won’t,” the woman responded, her voice gentler than you would’ve thought she was capable of. “I just want to make sure the color matches her scales.” As she considered the match, she continued to speak to you. “There are some undergarments on the chair beside the mirror. Do you see them?”

Glancing a little to the left of where you stood, you spotted the chair and the clothes she was talking about. “Yes ma’am.”

“I need you to take your towel off and put them on. You can step behind the mirrors if you would like a bit more privacy.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, the idea of being allowed a small amount of privacy so at the very least nobody else would see you naked giving you such a feeling of relief you worried for a moment that you might start crying. You hurriedly picked up the clothes, stepping into the small space behind the mirrors, which were in the corner of the room, and dropped your towel. The undergarments were nothing special, but wearing actual clothes again made you feel a little less out of your depth during this whole situation.

The servant woman was waiting for you when you stepped out from behind the mirror. “Just place your towel on the chair, if you will,” she instructed. She had the outfit draped over her arm, and though you couldn’t see all of it, you could see that it was the exact same shade of copper as Takara, which you were a little surprised by. You didn’t have long to linger on that realization, though, because as soon as you set your towel down on the chair, you were being guided to your previous spot in front of the mirrors by another servant.

Having multiple people invading your personal space in order to dress you quickly became overwhelming and, not having many other options, you closed your eyes, hoping maybe if you couldn’t see all the people working together to fasten your clothes around you, maybe you wouldn’t feel so overstimulated. Unfortunately, that didn’t help the way you hoped, the feeling of so many hands touching you at the same time too much for you to filter out in an effective way.

The hands touching you retreated after what felt like hours – though you knew logically it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes – but before you felt brave enough to open  your eyes now that you weren’t being crowded by strangers, a set of hands began to rake some sort of product through your hair, presumably to keep it out of your face. The rough touch was the final straw, everything now too much for you to bear even a second longer.

“Stop it!” you shrieked, shaking your head and pushing away the hands that tried to grab at you. “I said stop it! Right this second! Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice was shrill, significantly higher pitched than usual, and frantic to the point that you barely recognized it as your own voice. You felt yourself beginning to shake on top of it, but before you broke down in front of the servants, Satoru’s words from earlier echoed in your head.

You can throw a tantrum if they start to bother you. Always works for me.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really thrown any sort of fit, but if there was ever a time to really let yourself do such a thing, this was it. 

So you went for it. Leaned into the more theatrical parts of your current mood, keeping your voice loud and upset and contorting your expression into something demanding and angry, rather than distraught as you finally opened your eyes. “All of you get out of here! I don’t want to look at you right now. I want to see my friend.”

“Now listen here, Gojo-sama told us—”

“I don’t care what he said! If you don’t all leave and send Satoru in to see me, I’ll start breaking things.” You weren’t entirely certain where the words came from, but you couldn’t let your surprise show to the servants, or they would almost certainly call your bluff.

The servants all exchanged looks, most of their expressions rather unsure, until eventually the oldest servant gestured for everyone to leave the room. “I’ll make sure Gojo-dono is here as soon as possible to speak with you,” she told you, arching a brow at you the tiniest bit before she followed the others out of the room.

Once they were all gone, you practically deflated, all the fight leaving your body. What you really wanted to do was curl up in a corner and disappear, but you resisted the urge, instead walking over to the cushion Takara still sat on. Gently, you scooped her into your arms again, the simple feeling of her rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath she took serving to calm you a good deal. You weren’t entirely sure how long you stood there holding her when a rushed knock sounded at the door, and you turned in time to see Satoru stepping inside, barely remembering to shut the door behind himself in his hurry to get to you.

“You threatened to break things?” he asked, his eyes wide and a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I told you throwing a tantrum would work!”

Though you wanted to join in his enthusiasm, now that Satoru was here in front of you, it was taking every ounce of your self control not to burst into tears. He noticed the way your bottom lip began to tremble, and his expression quickly dropped from excited to concerned. He held his hands up somewhat helplessly between you, apparently unsure what to do to provide you comfort.

“Oh god, uh, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I was trying to be supportive, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“Didn’t upset me,” you cut him off, blinking rapidly to try and stave off your tears as you returned Takara to her cushion. “Could I hug you?” you asked, turning back to him. “Or are our clothes too expensive for that?”

Your weak attempt at a joke seemed to go over his head as he pulled you close, expression serious. “Who gives a shit about our clothes?” he asked, arms wrapped tightly around you. Once you’d wrapped your arms around him in return, he began to rock you side to side ever so slightly, thought you weren’t sure he was even doing it on purpose; it was something you’d frequently seen him doing over the years, almost any time he had to stand still for more than a few seconds, though he’d stopped doing it as much as you all got older. The familiarity of the move made you oddly nostalgic, and you lost the battle against your tears.

“Are you okay?” Satoru eventually asked, after your tears had quieted down to sniffles. He didn’t move to release you from the hug, though, which you greatly appreciated. 

“I’ve been better,” you admitted. Separating from him slightly, you wiped the last few straggling tears from your cheeks and looked up at him – when had he gotten tall enough for you to have to look up? you wondered, though you kept the thought to yourself. “How do you do this all the time? Don’t you just want to explode from all the attention?”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, though his gaze was a bit unfocused as he considered your words. “I don’t think I notice all of this as much as you do,” he admitted eventually. “I’ve been putting up with all of this my whole life, so I’m just… used to it, I guess.” A soft sigh escaped him, and he gave a slight shrug. “I know that’s not really helpful, but it’s true. But you wanna know what else is true?”

“What?”

Satoru’s expression brightened a bit as he spoke. “Suguru and I are gonna be right by your side the whole celebration. We’re not gonna let anyone get too close, and if you want, we’ll sic Kenji and Niji on people so they leave us alone.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, sniffling and wiping your eyes once again. Though the promise to cause chaos on your behalf probably should have concerned you, it didn’t; you couldn’t feel anything but relief knowing that your friends would be there to stick up for you. “Thanks, ‘Toru.”

Dropping your hands from your face, it finally occurred to you that Satoru had come to see you all by himself. “Where is Kenji, anyways?” you asked curiously.

“He and Niji are being groomed for the event.”

“Groomed?”

“Yes.”

“How do you even groom a dragon?” You felt your brows furrow as you tried to imagine it; it’s not like dragons had fur that could be brushed, so you were having a bit of trouble imagining what else might be involved.

“I heard someone say something about giving them a bath,” Satoru said. “And then they’ll probably get their fluff trimmed up a bit and have their scales polished.”

“I’m sure Kenji’s thrilled about that,” you laughed, the mental image of the boisterous dragon being wrangled into a bathtub being exceptionally amusing to you.

This time Satoru laughed with you. “I’m sure I’ll have to spend days making it up to him with treats.” 

His words had you laughing again, though you were quickly cut off by the sound of your stomach growling, and embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry,” you apologized.

Satoru just frowned. “Did they not give you anything to eat?”

You shook your head. “No, they didn’t. I’m really hungry right now, though.”

He nodded slightly, then turned and walked over to the door. He poked his head out, having a brief conversation with someone that you could neither hear nor see, then closed the door and returned to your side. 

“Someone’s going to bring you something to eat,” he said simply.

“You didn’t have to do that, Satoru.”

He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you for a moment. “I’m not gonna let you starve all day just because my dad didn’t think about the fact that you need to eat.”

You found his words oddly endearing, with how much they showed he clearly cared about you, and you thanked him quietly. Not much else was said for a few moments, and then there was a soft knock on the door. The boy was quick to answer it, accepting a tray from whoever had knocked before turning away.

When you saw what was on the tray, your mouth started watering. There was a whole breakfast spread available to you – rice, miso soup, eggs, fruit – fresh tea, and even a few little chocolates on the side. Your stomach growled again, but this time you felt much less embarrassed about it. You waited until Satoru had set down the tray before launching yourself at the food, picking up the bowl of soup and bringing it to your lips, not even bothering with the spoon as you gulped down the broth. You only stopped when you heard your friend laugh softly.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a shake of his head. “Not trying to make fun of you or anything, I’ve just never seen you go at a meal like that before.”

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you reminded him, swallowing your mouthful and wiping away a stray drop of broth from your chin before it could touch your clothes. It wasn’t that late in the day, all things considered, but that didn’t change how hungry you really were. Knowing that eating too fast would only make you sick, you slowed down as you ate the rest of your food, occasionally offering small bites to Takara, who accepted exactly one bite of egg before refusing everything else.

As you ate, you and Satoru talked a bit more, not really discussing much of anything at all, but the conversation being a welcome distraction to what had overwhelmed you in the first place. Once you finally finished, you realized you felt much better about everything – or at the very least, you weren’t dreading what was to come as much. With a soft sigh, you glanced back over at the door; all the servants had left you alone, just as you’d asked – or demanded, rather – but you couldn’t imagine they’d gone very far from the room. “I should really let them finish getting me ready,” you said, if somewhat reluctantly. “I don’t want your father getting mad because I’m not cooperating.”

“Fuck my dad,” Satoru said. “Who cares what he thinks?”

You felt as if your eyes were going to pop out of your skull from the shock of hearing your friend say those words. “Satoru!” you exclaimed, looking around to make sure nobody else had heard him.

“What? It’s true!” he insisted, trying incredibly hard to hide his grin. “You’re the most important person in the settlement now – maybe even the whole world. Why do you care what my dad thinks anymore?”

Heat quickly spread across your face at his words. Your real answer of because he’s a grown up seemed a little silly when you thought about it the way Satoru had phrased it, so you just shrugged. Then, remembering his mother’s words from earlier that week, you replied, “Everyone is important, Satoru. Remember? And nobody is more important than anyone else.”

Now it was Satoru’s turn to get a little embarrassed, his face going red almost to the tips of his ears. You couldn’t help but notice how it made his eyes look even more blue than usual, though that thought had your own face burning even more. “Why do you always have to be right about stuff?” he groaned, burying his bright red face in his hands. He’d always been one for dramatics.

“‘Cause I know a lot of smart people.”

He peeked through his fingers at you. “Am I one of those smart people?”

“Hmm… Well, sometimes. Maybe,” you hummed, then giggled as he scowled at your teasing.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. As usual, he wasn’t very good at hiding his true feelings, and you could see that he was barely suppressing a smile as he looked over at you. “I’ll see you again in a bit, okay?” He took your hand as he spoke, though whether the move was intentional or not, you weren’t entirely sure.

“‘Kay,” you agreed softly. “Bye, Satoru.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, then turned and made his way out of the room, back to wherever he’d been before you’d demanded to see him. Shortly afterwards, the servants came filing back into the room, though they looked more wary of you than they had before they’d left.

“Feeling any better?” the head servant woman asked, arching a brow at you.

“Yes,” you said, then added sheepishly, “and I apologize for my outburst earlier. I shouldn’t have screamed at all of you.”

The servants blinked at your words, exchanging looks of surprise; apparently they weren’t used to getting apologies for such behavior.

“All is forgiven,” the head servant assured you, her expression seeming to soften a bit as she looked down at you. “It’s a lot to process if you’re not used to it. We are nearly finished, though. I only need to take care of your hair while the other girls get your accessories sorted, and then we’ll be done.”

Her explanation helped you feel a bit more at ease, and you nodded, easily allowing yourself to be led back in front of the mirror. As the head servant woman went back to taking care of your hair – running her fingers through it and using some sort of product to keep it back and out of your face – the two other servants went through the green accessories that had been brought into the room, comparing them to Takara’s eyes, trying to find the ones that matched the best. Most of the items didn’t make the cut, but eventually they turned to you with a few things: a small sash belt – more for decorative purposes than to actually hold your outfit in place – and two bracelets that looked like they were strung with real emeralds, though you didn’t dare to ask; you didn’t want to know how much money was sitting around your wrists.

While one of the women fastened the belt around your waist, the other clasped the bracelets around your wrists, making sure they were tight enough not to slip off, but not so tight that they were uncomfortable. The head servant woman tilted your head up gently, making sure you were looking straight forward before she fasted a hairpiece in place. It looked like a cross between a crown and a headband, thin strands of gold, silver, and bronze woven together in a circlet, the metal so finely polished it glinted even when it wasn’t in direct light. It sat atop your head in such a way that it kept your hair from falling into your eyes, and though they weren’t visible, you watched as several pins were put in your hair to keep the headpiece in place.

You stepped a bit closer to the mirrors, examining your reflection with wide eyes. You’d been utterly transformed with just a bit of work from the servant woman, without any of them even putting any sort of makeup or anything on your face. For the first time in your life, you looked… regal; you looked like you belonged with people like Satoru’s family. The kimono you wore looked like liquid copper pouring over you, the fabric weightless on you and lending an almost inhuman fluidity to every one of your movements; it was far and away the most luxurious thing you’d ever had the privilege of wearing, and though part of your mind was fretting over not messing the outfit up, you were mostly just in awe of how you looked.

The servants allowed you a few moments to look over yourself in the mirror, then called you back so they could help you into your shoes; a pair of waraji sandals, though these ones were made with a sturdy wooden sole and brown leather straps, rather than the ones made of rope fiber that you saw many other people in the settlement wearing from day to day. Despite being made from wood, you found the shoes surprisingly comfortable. You weren’t sure how long the celebration event was going to last, but at the very least you wouldn’t be stuck in uncomfortable shoes the whole time. 

After a moment of consideration, the head servant woman turned to one of the vanities and picked up a few small tins of what you could only assume was makeup, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed; you’d hope you’d be able to avoid that. When she explained to you that all she was putting on you was a bit of tint to your brows and lashes, and a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, you relaxed again; at least you wouldn’t have to wear anything on your lips.

“All finished,” she said after a few moments, offering you what you were surprised to see was a small smile. “Now that you’re ready, I’ll take you to meet with the others. You may bring the cushion for your dragon, if you wish.”

You nodded at her words, scooping Takara up into your arms and, after a brief moment of hesitation, you grabbed the pillow, as well, tucking it under your arm as you hurried out of the room.

Though your nerves had settled a good deal after getting to see Satoru, they began to eat at you again, your anxiety gnawing at your stomach, squeezing your throat and quickening your pulse. The nearer you drew to the front doors of the house, the worse you felt, every step somehow making the hallway smaller and smaller around you. Each breath you took felt more difficult, not quite able to pull enough air into your lungs anymore. Faintly, you heard someone call your name, and though the voice was familiar, you couldn’t quite pinpoint who it was until they stood in front of you.

“Are you alright?” Suguru asked, his voice gentle and his face concerned. You blinked a few times as you looked up at him, though he said nothing else as he waited patiently for a response from you. 

“I…” you began lamely, then let out a sharp breath before trying again. “I’m a bit overwhelmed, I guess…” The unintentional confession slipped a bit too easily from your lips for your liking, but there was no taking the words back once they were out.

Suguru’s expression only softened at your words, and he offered you a small smile. “That’s understandable,” he assured you. “There’s a lot happening today. I think I’d be a little concerned if you weren’t overwhelmed. But it’s alright, we’re here with you.” He turned and looked over his shoulder then, and you followed his gaze to where Satoru stood with his parents, Kenji pacing beside him while Niji sat obediently beside where Suguru had been standing just a moment before. 

The sight of your best friend eased your fears even more, and it felt a bit easier to breathe when he smiled at you. You noticed then that his starlight hair had been slicked back from his face, but you already knew that he would be running his fingers through it to get it back to its usual fluffy state.

“Come on,” Suguru urged, pulling you from your thoughts. “The celebration is starting soon, we can’t have the guest of honor arrive late.” The faint hint of teasing that ran through his words got a smile out of you, and you followed him over to the rest of the group. For a brief moment, you worried that you would be expected to lead the way to the city center, but much to your relief, Gojo-sama informed you that you’d be taking up the rear, with Kenji and Niji on either side of you. Though you would have preferred to walk between your friends, rather than behind them, you said nothing, not wanting to risk invoking Gojo-sama’s anger right before you were presented to everyone in the settlement.

Before you could all turn to leave, though, Gojo-hime’s soft voice called out from down the hall. She walked quickly until she reached the group, smiling as she knelt down in front of you. “I’m glad I caught you before you left,” she said, taking you in for a moment. “You look lovely in these colors,” she added, fingers trailing down one of your sleeves lightly before meeting your eyes again. “I just wanted to come and say I know you’re going to be wonderful tonight. Being the center of attention can be scary, but you can do it.”

Her words had tears burning your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to try and keep them from falling. “Thank you, Gojo-hime,” you whispered, clearing your throat softly and looking away afterwards.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She pushed herself up from the floor then, standing slowly as she turned to your friends. “Satoru,” she murmured fondly, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Can you promise you’ll behave this time?”

“I’ll try,” Satoru promised, his voice a little quieter than usual, and you weren’t surprised when you glanced at his face again and saw him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

That drew a soft laugh from the woman, and she brushed her knuckles lightly across his cheek. “I appreciate that,” she murmured, then turned her attention to your other friend. “Will you help keep him in line, Suguru?”

It was the raven haired boy’s turn to blush then, and he nodded. “Of course, Gojo-hime.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, seeming genuinely a bit relieved by the words. “All three of you try to have some fun together, alright? I’ll see you all later.” With that, she nodded to her husband and bid the rest of you farewell before making her way back down the hall. She hadn’t said why she wouldn’t be joining you for the celebration, but the way she pressed her fingers to her temples as she walked told you more than enough.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Gojo-sama turned and resumed his path to the front doors, pushing them open with a flourish and making his way down the walkway that led out of the estate and eventually right into the city, leaving you and the boys to scramble to catch up with him. Soon enough, though, you all fell into step behind him, four sets of wooden shoes clicking against the stones of the path nearly in sync; you were the shortest of the group, so you couldn’t quite match the rhythm of their steps without falling behind.

Your procession was slow, and while you were sure it was because Gojo-sama didn’t want to arrive at the celebration with even a single hair out of place, the longer it took to arrive and get the evening over with, the more anxious you became. In an effort to keep your mind occupied with something – anything – else, you focused on your friends, taking in their appearances for the first time since you’d reunited with them.

Satoru was wearing a white kimono, secured around the waist with a blue belt. It was simple, but paired with his hair and his eyes, it was striking. When he turned his head to steal a quick glimpse at you, he looked almost ethereal, despite the boyishness that still softened his features. Your eyes flitted away almost as soon as they met his, but you still noticed the way the corner of his lips turned up slightly as he turned away once again.

Apparently curious by what had caught Satoru’s attention – or possibly concerned about your current emotional state, or some combination of the two, you weren’t entirely sure which – Suguru glanced over his shoulder at you, as well. His features were still a bit soft with youth, but they’d always seemed more sophisticated to you, almost regal; he may not have been born with any noble blood in his family, but you wouldn’t know that just from looking at him. Dodging his gaze, too, you dropped your eyes, focusing instead on his outfit. The kimono he wore was black, though you noticed the tiniest hint of purple woven into the fabric when it caught the light just right; it seemed to form some sort of pattern, but you couldn’t quite make it out. The belt secured around his waist was yellow, and while out of context it was not a color you would have liked, knowing that it matched the shade of Niji’s eyes made it a bit more appealing.

Just then it occurred to you that all of you were dressed to match your dragons. You craned your neck to try and better see the colors Gojo-sama was wearing, but a large robe hid his outfit from your view. Maybe it’s just the three of us, you thought, once you’d given up on trying to see what Satoru’s father was wearing. Since Satoru and Suguru are the only ones with solid color dragons, and I’m the only one with a metallic dragon. Maybe we’re supposed to stand out more from everyone else. 

You continued to walk in silence behind everyone else for a few moments, when you suddenly realized something else: even if Gojo-sama was dressed to match his dragon, you wouldn’t have been able to tell; as far as you could remember, you’d never seen his dragon with him. The urge to tap Satoru on the shoulder and ask where his father’s dragon was was nearly overwhelming, but it lost to your common sense and your desire to avoid enraging the older man, especially before you were to be paraded around in front of everyone in the settlement. The curiosity still gnawed at you, though, and you resolved to ask your best friend about it later, when Gojo-sama was no longer in earshot.

Despite the slow pace, it wasn’t long until the sounds of music and people talking and laughing began to filter up from the city square. The sound was not unpleasant, but it made your situation really set in: you were about to be present to everyone who lived in the settlement. They were all going to stare at you, a lot of them were going to want to talk to you, and some of them might even try to touch Takara. Those thoughts spun around in your head, chasing each other in circles like Kenji and Niji often chased each other, and with every passing second you felt more and more consumed by the anxiety those thoughts filled you with. You were so caught up in those thoughts, in fact, that you didn’t even realize your friends had stopped walking until you ran into them.

Takara let out a squawk as she was briefly squished into your chest, the noise somewhere between offended and startled. You managed to hold her steady in your arms, though the pillow you’d been carrying slipped from beneath your arm. Suguru was quick to reach out and catch it before it could hit the ground, and for that you were thankful.

“Woah, hey, are you alright?” Satoru asked, placing a hand on your arm. His brows were furrowed with worry, and a frown tugged the corners of his lips down a bit. It wasn’t an expression you particularly liked on him, especially when you were the reason for it, but there was something reassuring about it in that moment; knowing he cared about you enough to feel such concern.

“I-I… uh…” you stammered, staring blankly up at him. The inside of your head was still so loud, so busy, that it drowned out your ability to do anything else. “I’m…”

You heard Suguru call your name, and you turned your head enough to look up at him, rather than Satoru. His expression was equally pinched, and you found that you didn’t like that, either; you hated knowing you were the cause of such worry for them, your two best friends in the world. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You’ll be okay. Can you take a deep breath?”

You tried to do as he asked, breathing in slowly, the air entering your lungs in a stutter, catching in your throat for reasons you didn’t understand. You were quick to exhale, much quicker than you had inhaled, and for some reason the act felt out of your control.

“Good, that was good,” Suguru encouraged, a small smile on his lip now, rather than a frown. “Can you try again? I’ll do it with you.” He waited until you nodded, then took a slow, deep breath in, held it for a few seconds, then slowly breathed out again. Matching him was still a bit tricky, but you managed well enough that you once again felt in control of your body.

“Feel better?” Satoru asked, once you seemed less tense and were breathing more steadily. He squeezed your arm lightly in reassurance, and you turned your attention back to him.

“A little,” you agreed. There were still nerves and a sense of unease lingering in the back of your mind, but they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, so you knew you’d just have to push through them for the evening. 

Satoru’s expression softened at your words, but before he could say anything further, his father turned around to see what had stopped the three of you in your tracks.

“Stop standing around,” Gojo-sama hissed, frowning deeply as he looked the three of you over. “We’re nearly there, now is not the time to drag your feet or start causing problems.”

“Apologies, Gojo-sama,” Suguru replied, bowing to the man as he spoke. “I just wanted to make sure they were feeling alright before we were in front of everyone.”

“Nonsense, they’re fine,” the man replied quickly, not even glancing at you; if he had, he would have seen that you were decidedly not fine, but you doubted he cared about that at all. “Now hurry up, I won’t have you embarrassing me or our family.”

“You shouldn’t speak so unkindly to them,” Satoru was quick to snap back, leveling his father with a harsh look.

Clearly taken aback by his son’s attitude, Gojo-sama simply stared at him for a moment. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said, you shouldn’t speak so unkindly to them,” Satoru repeated, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before. “You’re being quite rude.”

“You would do well to remember your place, Satoru,” Gojo-sama warned, something almost cruel glinting in his cold blue eyes.

“And you would do well to remember yours. There’s a metallic dragon rider in your presence. Soon enough you won’t be the top authority in the settlement anymore.”

A chill ran down your spine at your friend’s words, and you exchanged a nervous glance with Suguru. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to speak, to intervene before the confrontation devolved into something even less pleasant. “Satoru, Gojo-sama,” you said, silently thanking whatever deity might be listening that your voice didn’t shake. “We have a celebration to get to. I don’t want to disappoint the people, and I would hate for all the hard work to make the celebration happen on such short notice go to waste. We should go.” 

Though your words rang with conviction, you couldn’t have believed them any less. You didn’t care if you left everyone in the settlement hanging, and you didn’t really care if Gojo-sama spent more money than you could ever dream of having on a celebration that didn’t accomplish what it was meant to. All you cared about was being with your friends, and with finally being able to go home with your parents when this was all over. It didn’t matter to you that those were selfish concerns and desires, and it didn’t matter that being selfish like that was childish; you were still a child, after all. Regardless of your actual feelings, though, you hoped that your words would be enough to convince at least Gojo-sama to be practical and follow the plan for the evening, rather than lay into his only son to put him in his place.

The Gojo clan patriarch narrowed his eyes at his son for a long moment, as if silently debating the merit of beating the attitude out of his child right then and there, before he straightened up once again. “You’re right,” he agreed, sparing you only a fleeting glance before turning his back to the three of you once again. “We have an event to attend and appearances to uphold. Everyone back in line.”

You heard Satoru muttering under his breath as he followed his father’s orders, getting back into his place in the procession, his back to you and Suguru to his right. The raven haired boy offered you one last comforting smile and passed Takara’s cushion back to you, then returned to his place, as well. Kenji and Niji, who had remained uncharacteristically motionless on either side of you this whole time, chuffed quietly at each other, then bumped your sides lightly with their heads. With that, all of you were off once again, the city square growing closer with every step.

In an effort to keep your mind occupied and prevent another spiral like before, you looked down at your hatchling, now settled on her cushion, rather than cradled against your chest. Nobody had said anything to you about the way you’d been carrying her, but it had seemed obvious to you that it would look better – and certainly more dramatic – if you arrived with Takara in full view of the people in the settlement, rather than having her lost in the folds of your kimono. 

For once, your dragon was fully awake and alert, sitting oh so perfectly in the middle of the cushion and looking around at everything around her, though she still ignored Kenji and Niji; you were starting to think she was doing it on purpose. After a moment, she tilted her head back to look up at you, her emerald eyes wide and twinkling in the dimming light. Whether she knew how important she was, or how big of a deal was about to be made of her existence was unclear to you, but you could tell she did know that whatever was happening was important, not something to be slept through. She chirped at you quietly, as if to tell you everything would be okay, and stared for a few moments longer before turning her gaze forward again.

You followed her lead, though when you lifted your head to look in front of you, you were more than a little shocked to realize you were right outside the city square. The music had stopped, and everyone had gone silent, watching your procession and parting to make way for Gojo-sama. Your nerves began to creep in again, tightening your throat and chest and amplifying every little noise around you. You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead, rather than darting around at the crowd in some futile attempt to spot a familiar, comforting face, and you found that that helped curb your anxiety. 

At first, the only sounds that filled the air were your procession’s wooden shoes on the stone of the square and the soft tinkling sounds of the glass windchimes as a breeze passed through. You weren’t sure if you were thankful for the silence or unsettled by it, but once people noticed Takara, you wanted the silence back.

It wasn’t hard to figure out when your hatchling was spotted by people; whispers swept through the crowd like a river, everyone’s voices hushed, and yet still it nearly made your ears ring to hear so many people talking all at once, especially since it was you they were speaking about. You couldn’t make out any particular words, but you knew what they were all wondering: why here, why now, why you, of all people? Things had been peaceful for your entire life, and as far as anyone else was aware, there were no looming threats on the horizon, no reason for there to be a metallic dragon showing up so suddenly, much less bonding with a commoner like you when there were plenty of other children about your age from more important and respected families than yours.

Everyone is important in their own way, Gojo-hime’s words rang in your head. Everyone is equally important. None of us can do what we do without each other.

The reminder washed over you, clearing your mind of anxieties almost entirely; it didn’t matter if anyone else didn’t think you were important enough to be a metallic dragon’s rider, because they weren’t any more important than you were. And even if there was anyone that was more important than you, that didn’t matter, either. Takara was your dragon, and you were her rider, and there was nothing that could be done to change that, regardless of what anyone in any position of authority might have wanted.

Though it felt like an eternity had passed since you first stepped into the square, you eventually ascended the steps of the platform in the middle of the square. Satoru and Suguru stepped off to the side, Gojo-sama standing directly behind them. Knowing what was expected of you but nowhere near happy about it, you stepped forward until you stood in front of them, then turned to face the crowd. This time, you weren’t able to keep yourself from searching the crowd for someone – anyone – you recognized, whose face would hopefully bring you some level of comfort. Just before Gojo-sama began to speak, you spotted your parents, nearly as close to the platform as they could get. They both smiled at you, relief at being able to see you again written plainly across their faces. That same relief nearly overwhelmed you, and you had to blink rapidly to avoid bursting into tears right then and there; it would displease Satoru’s father, and you didn’t want the small amount of makeup the servants had put on you to run down your face.

“Friends and neighbors!” Gojo-sama called out. Despite the fact that your back was to him, you knew he was wearing a fake, if somewhat smug, smile as he spoke. “I apologize for not telling any of you what this celebration is for before this, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise! As you can all see, our settlement has once again been blessed with the presence of a metallic dragon. A metallic dragon has not been seen anywhere in the world since the last one was born here and bonded with one of my ancestors, over three hundred years ago.”

You felt the way his eyes landed on you before speaking again. “The dragon may not have bonded with someone born into the Gojo clan this time, but I assure you that my family will be taking a special interest in the care, training, and education of both the dragon and her rider. Whatever the reason for this dragon’s arrival, we will be well prepared.” Another hushed murmur rippled through the crowd, but Gojo-sama was quick to keep it from growing into complete unrest. “For now, though, let us celebrate! We are blessed to be in the presence of such a creature.”

The murmur quickly roared into a cheer, and the music was quick to begin playing again, loud and cheerful, a perfect fit for a celebration such as this one. Unsure of what you were or were not allowed to do, now that the announcement about Takara had been made, you glanced over your shoulder at Satoru, trying to catch his eye. When that failed, you turned the other direction in an attempt to catch Suguru’s eye, instead.

He didn’t look your way at first, but when he did, he offered you a small smile and a nod; even without words, his assurance did wonders for the anxieties that still plagued your mind. As best as you could, you glanced behind Suguru to Gojo-sama, then back to Suguru. You wanted to know if you were allowed to move, to leave the platform and enjoy the festivities that were happening, but you didn’t dare to turn around and ask.

Apparently catching your silent question, Suguru nodded again, then turned to Satoru and bumped him a bit. You turned back to face forward, then, not wanting it to be obvious that you were the one with the question to begin with. As you heard the boys shuffling a bit behind your back, you looked down at Takara; she still seemed more alert than usual, but far less interested in her surroundings than when you’d first stepped into the city square.

“Father,” came Satoru’s voice. “We’re going to find our friends and grab something to eat. We’ll be back.” The fact that he didn’t phrase it like a question, and didn’t ask if you could go with him and Suguru both thrilled and terrified you, especially since he had already butted heads so intensely on the way to the festival.

“The two of you may go,” Gojo-sama replied easily, “but be quick about it. They must stay here, however.”

Instantly, tears filled your eyes, and your shoulders sagged, the sadness from not being allowed to even try to find your friends much heavier than you could have anticipated. All of this had been planned and was happening in honor of you and your dragon, and you weren’t even allowed to participate. It was a crushing feeling to experience.

“Why?” Satoru snapped, the edge from before sharpening his voice once again. “This festival is for them, is it not?”

“They are the reason for the celebration, yes. That means they need to be visible to people, to remind them and inspire them. So your friend must remain here.” Somehow the Gojo patriarch maintained his cool, but you knew he couldn’t possibly be so relaxed about the attitude his son was giving him.

“Wouldn’t they be more visible and inspiring if they were allowed to walk around, to talk to people? Don’t you think people would be better reminded of the reason for all this if they got to see Takara a little closer?” You couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard your friend this worked up, but it made your stomach flip to know he was so willing to defend you against anything he perceived as unfair.

There was a long, tense silence, and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing, the urge not to draw any further attention to yourself winning out against everything else, if only for a few moments.

“…Very well,” Gojo-sama eventually conceded, though he still sounded a bit irked. “Don’t be gone too long, though. The dancing will begin as soon as the sun goes down.”

“Thank you, Gojo-sama,” you heard Suguru say, then felt a hand at your back, gently guiding you back towards the steps of the platform. “Come on,” he encouraged quietly. “I doubt he’ll change his mind, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You didn’t argue, not wanting to risk being called back to stand in front of everyone like a statue simply because Gojo-sama changed his mind. Chancing a glance over at Satoru as you all hurried down the steps and into the crowd, you saw his face was flushed with anger, his brows pinched together hard in the middle of his forehead; he was even more upset than you realized.

“‘Toru?” you called softly, trying to get his attention and hopefully pull him out of his negative thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nobody should get to take youth away from young people,” he replied. His tone had softened a bit, now that he was talking to you and not his father, but he didn’t seem any less upset. “Nobody, no matter what power they hold, should be allowed to do that. We’re still just kids, why the fuck can’t we act like it?”

Though you had heard your friend swear before, it still caught you off guard a bit when he did; you weren’t sure if it was because he swore rather infrequently, or because you were all still “too young” to be using language like that – according to the adults in your lines, anyways – or if it was something else entirely, but you supposed it didn’t really matter all that much, since your reaction was still the same every time. 

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

A long sigh escaped him then, both frustrated and weary. “My father,” he said after a moment, running his fingers through his hair to get it back to its fluff, perfectly messy state; the slicked back style had lasted longer than you expected, but you were glad he was undoing it now. “Expecting you to just… stand there like a decoration, or something, and not letting you even say hi to your friends or even get a snack, or anything like that. Not wanting to let you still be a kid, even though we’re not even teenagers yet. It’s stupid, and it’s not fair. I can’t let him do that, especially not to you, or us.”

A brief pause, then Suguru spoke. “You really shouldn’t use language like that, Satoru. It’s not polite.”

Satoru scowled at his friend, but he pointedly did not acknowledge his words. “What do you guys want to eat, anyway? I’m starving, and we need to eat something before we have to dance.”

“Dance?” you asked, pausing long enough to lift Takara from the pillow and drape her across the back of your neck so you wouldn’t have to worry about dropping her. The words really hit you just a few seconds later, and you remembered that Gojo-sama had said something about dancing, too, before you’d all hurried off. “What dance? What are you talking about?”

“It’s a traditional dance,” Satoru explained, looking around at the various food stalls as he walked, trying to find something he wanted. “When the sun goes down, they’ll light a bonfire, and a few of us will do a very fancy looking, very annoying dance until we’re almost sweating through our clothes, and then we’ll all go home because we’ll be too tired to participate in the festivities anymore.”

“…will I have to dance?” you asked after a moment, glancing over at Suguru somewhat nervously. Nobody had even mentioned a dance to you, much less bothered to teach it to you, but you couldn’t imagine that you would be allowed to abstain from the activity. 

Satoru paused then, turning back to face you, confusion plastered on his features. “Nobody said anything to you?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly. Before you could get too caught up in your thoughts again, though, Suguru carefully took your free hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “You probably will have to dance, but Satoru and I will guide you through it.”

“It’s not hard,” Satoru added, and you could tell he was trying to hide his annoyance, but he wasn’t all that good at it.

“But you just said—”

“I said it looks fancy,” he interjected, his expression truly softening now. “But it’s not hard, I promise. If it was hard, I would tell you. Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No,” you conceded, then let out a shaking breath. He really hadn’t ever lied to you, and you couldn’t imagine that he would start now, not when it would lead to public humiliation for you. 

“Exactly. Now, come on. We really do need to eat something before we have to dance until our legs fall off.”

Ignoring all the festival attendees was easier than you expected, as you allowed yourself to be led to various food stalls. Kenji and Niji walked far enough away from the three of you to create a bit of a bubble, and nobody was able to get close enough to make you uncomfortable, which was a big relief. Though you’d originally said you didn’t have much of an appetite because of nerves, both boys insisted you needed to eat so you didn’t collapse during the dance. You decided to humor them, and once you started eating you realized you were famished, and you distantly realized it was probably because the only thing you’d had to eat that day was the snack Satoru had managed to get for you when he came to see you after you’d thrown a fit.

Before you knew it, you’d devoured a taiyaki with red bean filling, four takoyaki so hot you’d burned the roof of your mouth, and an onigiri with curry in the middle. After that, Suguru convinced you to take a break and get something to drink. “We really don’t want you getting sick,” he’d explained when you tried to argue. 

Just as you finished the tea that Satoru had gotten you, you noticed the lanterns being lit around the edges of the square, and your heart sank; it was almost time for you to perform a dance with your boys – a dance that you had never learned, at that – in front of the entire settlement, and you hadn’t so much as glimpsed any of your other friends.

“We should go,” Suguru said softly, taking your hand once again and leading you back towards the platform. Satoru quickly reached your other side, taking your other hand – you’d misplaced Takara’s cushion at some point, and though you were sure Gojo-sama would be less than pleased about that, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at that moment. You allowed your friends to lead you back to the platform without any sort of fuss, not having the energy to fight anything, even if you had wanted to fight them in the first place. When the three of you reached the platform steps, Satoru and Suguru released your hands, both of them turning to face you.

“Are you ready?” Suguru asked gently, tilting his head slightly. You knew he meant well and was just trying to check in on you, but the wording of his question felt a little silly; no, you weren't ready, and you never would be, but what choice did you have? You said none of that, though, giving a slight nod instead. 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” you sighed, offering him your best smile in return, though you doubted it was very convincing. 

“You’re gonna want to put Takara down for this,” Satoru said, and you felt a small, sharp jolt of panic, that you realized afterwards wasn’t entirely your own; maybe your bond with Takara was going to take longer to get used to than you thought.

“Why?” you asked, a frown tugging at the corners of  your lips.

“There’s a lot of twirling and spinning. I don’t want her to fall, or to claw up your neck trying to hold on,” he explained, his expression nearly as soft as his snowy hair, and you felt your worry melt away nearly as quickly as it had hit you.

“Oh, okay. Uh…” you looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where to set your hatchling down; you were regretting misplacing the cushion now. “Where should I put her?”

“I’ll hold her for you, baby,” your mother said, and you turned to face her with wide eyes.

“Mom,” you sighed, breaking out into a grin before you could help it. You nearly threw yourself at her, and a small, shaky breath escaped you as she held you close. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling away. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise. And when this is all over, your father and I are going to take you home, okay?”

You nodded again, almost feeling as if you were going to cry again. You managed not to, though, and carefully lifted Takara from her place under the neck of your kimono. She chittered softly at you, but she quieted down quickly once she was in your mother’s arms.

Once you were sure Takara was taken care of, you turned back to your friends. “How does the dance go?” you asked, hoping your nerves didn’t bleed into your words too badly. You trusted Satoru when he told you the dance wasn’t hard, but you were still worried about making a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“It’s hard to explain,” Satoru replied, his head cocked slightly to the side; he looked like he was trying to think of a way to explain the dance to you, though unfortunately he seemed to be coming up dry.

“Satoru and I will go first,” Suguru said, stepping in while his friend seemed to struggle. “Just watch us for a bit, and one of us will bring you in when it’s a good time, okay?” His usual gentle smile softened his face as he spoke, and, just as it always did, it put you at ease.

“Okay,” you agreed, managing to offer a small smile back. 

Both boys nodded at you, then commanded their dragons to stay back as the two of them stepped into the space that had been cleared in front of the platform where fuel for a bonfire had been built up. Your friends stood next to each other on the side closest to you, and you watched as a few other people stepped out of the crowd to stand around the bonfire. You thought you recognized most of them as members of other well to do families from the settlement, though you didn’t know their names. They seemed to be about your age for the most part, a few of them maybe a year or two older, but it quickly became apparent that no adults would be involved in this dance. 

A hush settled over the crowd as Gojo-sama approached the pile of wood, a lit torch in his hand. He looked slowly around the square for a moment, expression unreadable, then said in a booming voice, “Now it is time for the new generation to honor those that have come before, and perform the traditional dance to welcome a metallic dragon.” He tossed the torch into the woodpile, the dry branches roaring to life almost instantly. The roar of the fire and the cheering of the crowd drowned out any other words the man might have spoken, so he simply gestured for the musicians to begin playing again before he stepped back onto the platform.

As the music began – a very different song than before, this one sounding old and promising and full of magic – Satoru and Suguru turned away from the fire to face each other, each of them offering the other a slight bow before they really began to dance. Their movements were elegant, nimble, and seemingly effortless, not a single breath out of place as they moved, spinning and winding and stepping away from each other before coming right back. You noticed quickly that it was really only a few movements repeated in about three different patterns, and for that you were thankful; at least once you got used to the movements things would go smoothly. Distantly, you realized that all the other dancers around the bonfire must have been dancing the same way, but you didn’t care about them, not when you couldn’t take your eyes off of your friends and the way they moved together as if they were born to do this dance together. Watching them dance was like watching Kenji and Niji fight; fluid, coordinated movements without needing to communicate, black and white in a natural push and pull that was nearly impossible to look away from.

It was unclear to you exactly how much time had passed since the dance had begun, your focus more on watching the boys and trying to get a sense of the dance you would soon be pulled into, but soon enough they split apart; Suguru turned to dance with one of the girls from the other families, and Satoru turned to you and held out his hand. Heart hammering in your chest, you were quick to take it, not wanting to cause a disruption in the flow of the dance. You stared up at Satoru with wide eyes then, the crackling of the fire louder now that you were up close with it.

Your best friend looked down at you with a smile, releasing your hand and taking a half step back. “You’ve got this,” he assured you, then offered you the same small bow he’d offered Suguru before. You managed to return it, then jumped into the dance itself. You’d never been the most graceful person, but you felt especially clumsy trying to do the dance with no practice. Though you knew it wouldn’t do your balance any favors, you kept looking down at your feet, trying to make sure you had all the steps right. A set of waraji sandals entered your view – wooden-soled just like yours, but with white leather straps rather than brown – and a familiar voice called your name.

“Don’t look down,” Satoru encouraged, and when you lifted your head, you saw he was still smiling at you. “Look at me. It’s just us right now, yeah? It’s just you and me. You can do this.” He spoke with such conviction that you couldn’t help but believe him, and you nodded, smiling back at him.

“I can do this,” you agreed. The steps came easier to you after that, and you kept your eyes locked on your best friend as you danced, spinning and winding around him just as Suguru had, though your moves were a bit less polished.

Just when you felt you were really getting into the rhythm of the music and finding your stride, Satoru spoke again. “We’re about to be finished,” he explained in a low voice, only for you to hear. “You’ll be dancing with Suguru next. When it’s time to switch, I’ll tell you to turn around, and he’ll be waiting for you.”

All you could give in response was a nod, feeling a bit more out of breath than your friend, who still hadn’t even broken a sweat, as far as you could tell. It was only a few moments later that you heard a slight shift in the music, and Satoru told you to turn around before doing so himself. You did as you were told, turning around to become Suguru’s partner.

The dark haired boy smiled at you when you were facing each other again, and you blinked in surprise when you saw his hair. It was pulled back from his face in a bun, like he usually wore it now that it was getting longer, but all the dancing and spinning had caused a small, slightly shorter section in the front to fall down in front of his eyes.

“Your hair looks nice like that,” you panted, not even thinking about the words before you said them aloud. Once you realized what you’d said, you felt your cheeks burn a bit more than they already were.

Suguru seemed a bit surprised by your words, but not upset, if his smile was anything to go by. “You think so?” he asked, as the two of you exchanged bows. “Maybe I’ll wear it like this on purpose now. It never wants to stay put, anyways.”

A small laugh tumbled from your lips at his words, but it was all you could manage before beginning to dance again. Now that you were more familiar with the steps and how they flowed together, you were able to loosen up a bit, and worry less about whether you were going to accidentally step on Suguru’s feet – something you did, in fact, wind up doing, but he waved off.

“I still have my toes,” he teased softly, and you chanced a quick look down to make sure he wasn’t lying about not being hurt. Sure enough, his feet were fine, his own sandals still held securely in place by their black leather straps. Once that little hiccup was out of the way, though, you felt much better. 

By the time you were passed back to Satoru, you were much more comfortable, smiling more easily despite how breathless you felt. You danced until you felt certain your legs were going to collapse beneath you, and until you began to feel a bit dizzy from how much spinning around you were doing. Just before you were going to have to step out of the dance, though, the music crescendoed before ending with a flourish, and you nearly wept with relief. The gathered crowd broke out into cheers and applause again, and at the same moment, your best friends both threw themselves at you to wrap you up in a hug. You laughed and hugged them back as best you could for a few long moments, only pulling away when you heard your mother call your name.

“It’s time to go home,” she told you gently. “It’s getting very late, and you need to rest.”

You nodded at her words, knowing she was right and longing for your own bed back at home, but you were reluctant to part from the boys; you’d spent every waking moment and then some with them for over a week, and you didn’t know how you were going to be able to sleep without them in the same room with you.

Sensing your hesitation, Satoru squeezed you tighter. “Go home,” he murmured. “We’ll see you soon. You’ll be attending lessons and training with us now, remember?”

“Get some sleep,” Suguru agreed, also holding you a bit closer. “I’m sure Satoru will drag me into town tomorrow to cause problems.”

“I’ll wait until after breakfast,” Satoru promised, and you all laughed softly. 

“Bye,” you whispered, finally releasing them from your hold. They whispered it back, waving as you walked back to your parents. You gladly accepted Takara back from your mother, smiling as she bumped her head against your cheek before draping herself around your neck once again. 

Your parents kept you close as they picked out a path through the crowd, somehow managing to get you out of the square without anyone trying to stop you to talk or to ask to see your dragon. Having Spark around to growl at people is nice, sometimes, you thought to yourself. Once you were away from the brightly lit city square and the heat brought by the bonfire and the crowd, you found yourself yawning and shivering as you walked, the faint breeze quickly chilling the sweat on your skin.

“Your bed is ready for you when we get home,” your father promised, and you nodded, thanking him softly and leaning against him slightly as you walked. It wasn’t too far to your house, thankfully, and your parents quickly ushered you inside. You stumbled a bit on your way to your bedroom, and you didn’t even dream of protesting as your mother followed you, being quick but careful as she helped you out of your kimono, folding the material and placing it on your dresser, then setting each of the accessories you wore on top of it: first the belt, then the bracelets, then the headpiece. She helped you out of your sandals, then placed them by the door. You weren’t sure why she was being so careful with everything, but you were too tired to ask. 

Giving you a moment to pull on something else to sleep in, your mother stepped into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a damp cloth. She knelt in front of you, her touch gentle as she wiped the remains of your makeup from your face, though you were fairly certain you had already sweat most of it off. Eventually she deemed you clean enough, and you yawned, rubbing your eyes; you couldn’t remember the last time you were so tired.

At some point while helping you undress, your mother had placed Takara on your pillow, and she had fallen asleep waiting for you. Gently, you lifted her from her spot, holding her in one arm as you crawled beneath your blankets for the night. You looked up at your parents as they walked to your bedside, and you smiled as they took turns leaning down to kiss you on the forehead and tell you goodnight. You mumbled back an almost unintelligible “goodnight,” sleep quickly overtaking you now that you were in comfortable clothes and in your own bed for the first time in so long. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life, but for now, you were glad to be home.

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[oxittocin]

I was wondering if you could write

How robin would react to aftercare from a gn reader after first time like a hot bath or a massage just to help her sore body parts if it's not too much to ask of course....

soft (nico robin x reader)

nico robin masterlist

thank you for the request, my friend. here's my take on this - i hope you find it satisfactory. i am just a nico robin simp and i am not a writer by any means so please accept my humble offerings :]

cw: suggestive (mdni!), gn!reader

Love is a funny word that evokes a spectrum of emotions, depending on its adjective. Love can be sweet, secure, overbearing, suffocating, dark, temporal, lasting, kind, chaste, lustful, conflicted, permanent - anything, everything, or nothing at all.

You’ve experienced plenty in this lifetime. Whirlwind romances that make your heart run wild and free, taking risks with a kind of reckless abandon that only youths can afford. Or perhaps even sweet dates under cherry blossom trees and spring, like splitting a banana milkshake and sharing a cone of ice-cream. Maybe you’ve even had a few one-night stands, drunk on the taste of liquor and sin on a faceless stranger’s tongue. One or two committed partnerships, even, months spent mapping out a future, only to see it go down the drain.

You thought you’d seen everything love and life had to offer, until you met her.

How could you even begin to describe her? Words fail you before you could even form a coherent thought. Nothing you say, write or think could ever do her justice.

She, who carries the weight of the world on her shoulders. She, who continues to live on resolutely, in spite of the injustice that life had done unto her. She, whose will to survive seems to only grow stronger, in response to the tragedies life inflicts on her. A woman, whose life is shaped by the roughness of destiny and fate. Still, her softness is what shines through.

Soft smile when she says the spookiest thing. Soft gaze that she reserves mostly for Chopper, but you catch her sneaking a couple at you secretly too. Soft skin that you can’t help noticing, whenever she leans against you, head on your shoulder while she’s buried in yet another book. Soft touches that leave a burning and yearning on your skin whenever she brushes past you, or touches your hand.

It makes you want to love her softly. Tenderly, gently, kindly, lovingly, purely, compassionately.

——————————————

Loving her softly.

Bringing her a warm cup of tea before bed every night without fail. Lazy kisses by the deck as the breeze carries with it an air of serenity. Holding her hand under the dining table, rubbing comforting circles around her knuckles absentmindedly, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Loving her softly was the only way you knew how to.

She had asked you once if you were afraid of her, and what being with her entailed.

“The World Government, the organisations I betrayed and the mistakes I’d made. The whole weight of my existence. Are you certain you are fine with me?” She asked, slight desperation in her voice begging you to reconsider your choices. Her typically calm demeanor started to crack as she pushed you for an answer. This must mean a lot to her, you thought.

“It’s never been a problem for me.” You responded simply.

“Why?” She asked, unconvinced that you fully understood the gravity of the situation you were getting yourself into.

“You’re so easy to love.” You say with a shrug, “That alone makes everything else easy, too.”

She tilted her head away from you before you could catch a glimpse of her expression. You waited for a response, but her silence tells you that it was a moot point. You contemplated whether it would be a reassuring gesture to slip your hand into hers, but you decided against it. If she needs time, then you’ll gladly wait. An hour, a week, a month or a year, it doesn’t really matter. Wait you shall.

——————————————

Making love, softly, too.

Brushing your thumb against her cheek as your body coaxes pleased moans out of her lips. Delicate kisses, running your mouth along her curves as you paid attention to every inch of her beautiful skin. Fingers that trace up and down her back, tenderly tingling her senses, reminding her of your presence that has since taken over her life. Slow, steady rocking against her hips as her palm grips tightly around your wrists, as if begging you not to leave her after this was over. You take her hand, gently interlocking your fingers with hers - a silent promise that you wouldn’t leave in the morning.

The pinnacle of love is vulnerability. To bare your soul for another to see, shedding layers of clothes, shame, ego to present yourself in total unadulterated being. It’s scary because it transcends lust, into the dangerous realm of intimacy. It’s the same way she always insists on pulling you into a hot bath after the night’s activities. Burying her face in the crook of your neck, small splashes in the water as she attaches herself closer towards you. With her eyes closed, breathing steadily against your chest, she looked so at peace. It must mean a lot for a Devil’s Fruit user to be in a bath, completely unguarded around you. Reaching out gently to knead the knots in her shoulder, you feel a warm glow on your cheeks and you’re not sure if it’s from the skin-to-skin contact or the steam from the bath. She sighed, breath tickling your neck as she lets out a pleased groan.

“You always insist on taking a bath together after.” You remarked.

“I do.” She responded simply, slightest hint of a grin gracing her features.

“It’s intimate.” You pointed out.

She nodded, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

The intimacy made you feel alive. Human, even - scared, confused, loved, anxious, grateful - all at the same time. You wonder if it’s the same way for her, but you never dared to speak your thoughts into existence. In case, just in case, she doesn’t feel it like you do.

There is nothing inherently remarkable about being naked or sleeping with someone else. After all, sex can happen between two strangers without even a thread of attachment.

This, though, is nothing ordinary.

You feel it in your gut. The butterflies in your stomach tell you so.

——————————————

With love, comes expectations. Love is ultimately a commitment and there are duties that one cannot run away from. In this case, blow drying her hair after a hot bath.

To be fair, she could probably have it managed herself with a simple flick of her wrists - summoning one arm to get the hairdryer, another to comb through her hair, another to get the towel - you get the gist. She insists you do it for her, and you pretend to complain, scoffing and telling her she’s lucky she’s cute enough to make demands from you. Secretly, it’s one of your favorite parts of the night.

Fingers running through her hair as you meticulously held the hairdryer a safe distance away from her scalp, careful not to accidentally burn her. She sits still and upright, patiently letting you work your magic on her. You lightly drag your fingernails against her scalp and the back of her neck. You feel her body jerk slightly, shiver running down her spine. You bit your tongue to stifle a chuckle, thinking about how cute it was that she’s so sensitive. The scent of her floral shampoo overwhelms the room. Lavender, you think.

It is the small moments like these that make you so painfully aware of how insignificant everything was.

The storms that rage beyond the Thousand Sunny, the seas teeming with unthinkable lifeforms, the skies that hold islands so vast. So tiny and unimportant are our lives in the grand scheme of things.

Still, in the limited time that you have to exist, there is no where else you’d rather be than here with her, hairdryer in your hand.

[jazminrhode1]

Gurrrrllllllllll why do I want to be the person in all of your stoires? I love your writing sm. If it's not too too much could you maybe write something about Chris x Reader where he's going on tour and she can't go?

I Don't Want To Leave Chris Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: You're dating Chris and he's going on tour but, you can't join him.

Word Count: 892 words

As Matt and Nick hurried to get the rest of their things onto the bus, you sat with Chris on the stairs. He was behind you with his arms wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned back into his chest.

You had been dreading today and trying your best to push the thought of him leaving out of your mind. He was going on tour for the next 6 weeks and you didn’t know what you were going to do without him. You had spent every day together, all the time that you could but, still it didn’t feel like it was enough.

To the world you were just friends but, he was your entire universe. He was your comfort, your safe space and your best kept secret.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you said for what felt like the millionth time. His arms tigethened around you as he buried his head in your shoulder. You heard a sniffle, then he let out a sigh. “I don’t wanna fucking do this without you,” he replied.

You tried your best to move your schedule so that you could go on tour with him. It could have worked but, then people would know you were dating and you weren’t quite ready for that. You knew as soon as people knew, everything would change. Out of the two of you, Chris was the most afraid of that.

“We gotta go,” Nick said as he waited by the door. He offered a reassuring smile as he promised, “we’ll look after him.”

Nick reached out his hand and helped you to your feet, pulling you into a hug. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, “don’t blow the house up while we’re away.”

You laughed softly and shook your head. You were going to miss him too. Whenever you needed advice, Chris was never your first choice - it was always Nick that you went too. He squeezed your shoulder as he headed out to the bus, your heart broke just a little bit.

When you turned back to Chris, his head was in his hands and Matt was running down the stairs behind him. He held up his stuffed animal as he said, “I almost forgot my pug.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how excited that stupid toy made him. “We’re gonna miss you, y/n” he said.

He pulled you into a hug and made his pug give you a kiss on the cheek. You laughed as you swatted it away. He acted like he was offended but, then his face dropped, “I really wish you were coming with us.” he said before he slipped out the door and your heart broke just a little more.

When you looked back to Chris, his head was hung down as he shook it in disbelief. The decision felt impossible. Should he leave or should he stay? Of course he had to go but, how could he? You were the best thing to ever happen to him, how could he be that far away from you?

As you knelt down infront of him and took his head in your hands, you could see the tears in his eyes. “I’m gonna be right here when you get back, baby, I promise,” you said before you kissed him. You could feel the quiver of his lips.

You helped him to his feel and he pulled you into a hug so tight you could feel his heart break. “I love you, y/n,” he said, “I appreciate you and I love you so fucking much.”

As tears threatened to fall from your eyes you said, “I think you have to go.”

He nodded feverishly as he kissed you. Your forehead, your temple, your cheek, your lips, your lips and your neck as he lifted you into a hug. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you out to the bus. 

“Are you sure you can’t come?” he asked one last time, desperate for you to change your mind. “You know I can’t,” you said as your voice threatened to break.

He set you down pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss ontop of your head. “If you need me, you just call me, I can be back in a couple of hours,” he said.

“I’m gonna be fine,” you said, trying to convince yourself that that was true. He forced a smile in an attempt to convince you he was going to be fine too. 

After one last kiss, he turned around and got on the bus. As the door closed you could see him in the window, smiling through his tears, Matt's hand on his shoulder. You tried to hold your shit together as you waved them goodbye, forcing a smile to stop yourself from bursting into tears.

You hoped that this would be the hardest thing you’d ever have to do and that six weeks is the longest you’d ever have to be away from him.  At 4am as you lay awake on his side of the bed you missed feeling his heartbeat and hearing him whisper “I love you” until you fell asleep.

The first night was the longest. The second night was the worst. But, you knew he was doing what he loved and who were you to stand in his way?

[nunununuy]

Part 3

Part 2

Main Character Prince x NPC Fem Reader

Tittle: "Awakening in a World of Survival: The Prince's Fate"

Several days passed with Leonhard's new routine: visiting (name) in the forest every morning. They spent time together doing various things (name) usually did, like gathering herbs, vegetables, or mushrooms. Sometimes they searched for wild fruits and flowers, or even caught small animals with Leonhard’s skills; he was also quite adept at fishing in the pond. At times, they simply sat by the small lake, enjoying a simple picnic while chatting about trivial things. For Leonhard, the time spent with (name) felt peaceful and enjoyable. There was something sincere and warm in their togetherness, something he had never felt before.

Although it seemed like they were just playing and relaxing, Leonhard actually had another purpose behind his activities in the forest. He remembered that there was an important artifact around (name) village, an artifact that would be very useful for his future adventures. However, despite spending several days exploring the forest, Leonhard had not yet found any signs of the cave where the artifact was supposed to be. The fruitless search began to confuse and frustrate him.

One afternoon, while they were gathering wildflowers, (name) noticed the look of confusion on Leonhard's face. She gently asked, “What’s wrong, Leon? You seem restless today.”

Leonhard was taken aback for a moment but then decided to be honest. He explained, “I’m looking for something. It’s a bit strange, but have you ever heard of or seen a cave with blue flowers that only bloom at night? It should be somewhere around this forest.”

Leonhard didn’t have high hopes that (name) would know. After all, the cave he was looking for was a hidden place, and even in the game, it could only be found through very specific clues. However, to Leonhard’s surprise, (name) seemed to ponder for a moment before responding.

“Oh, I know that place,” (name) replied calmly, as if it were nothing extraordinary. “The cave you’re talking about is in the southern part of the forest. I stumbled upon it by accident some time ago.”

Leonhard paused, astonished by (name) answer. “You know where it is?” he asked in disbelief.

(name) nodded. “Yes, I found it when I fell from a small hill. I rolled down until I got near the cave. But I never went inside. It looked quite dangerous—the ground was slippery and steep. I was afraid that if I entered, I wouldn’t be able to get out again.”

Hearing that explanation, Leonhard felt like the pieces of a puzzle were finally coming together. No wonder he hadn’t been able to find the cave—it was hidden, covered by trees, and positioned slightly lower than the surrounding ground. If one didn’t pay close attention, anyone would easily overlook it. Leonhard grew more impressed with (name), who had inadvertently discovered this place.

“Show me the way,” Leonhard said, unable to hide his curiosity.

(name) nodded and led the way. They walked through the dense forest, moving farther away from the places they usually visited. After a while, they arrived at a somewhat secluded and difficult-to-reach area. Indeed, the cave Leonhard sought was there, hidden behind sprawling tree roots, and its entrance was in a barely noticeable hollow in the ground.

Leonhard stood before the cave, awestruck. He couldn’t believe how hidden this place was. “No wonder I couldn’t find it,” he murmured. “These trees really conceal its presence.”

(name) gazed at the cave with a hint of apprehension. “Are you sure you want to go in, Leon? It looks dangerous.”

Leonhard smiled, trying to reassure (name). “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I know what’s inside.”

After making sure everything was safe, Leonhard slowly entered the cave. The ground inside was indeed slippery and steep, as (name) had said, but he was careful enough not to slip. Inside, the cave felt silent, only illuminated by the dim light entering from the cave entrance. However, deep inside, Leonhard could see the blue flowers starting to bloom, just as he remembered from the game.

“This is it,” Leonhard whispered to himself. The blue flowers signified that the artifact he was looking for was nearby. His adventure had just begun, and he knew this was a crucial step to protect (name) and change the future he already knew.

***

(name) stood outside the cave, staring at the entrance that grew darker as night approached. Worry began to creep into her heart. It had been a while since Leonhard had gone in, and he hadn’t returned. The soft sound of the wind only added to the eerie atmosphere. (name) bit her lip, trying to calm herself, but every passing second without news from Leonhard only heightened her anxiety.

“(name), wait here,” Leonhard had said before entering. That was the last instruction she had received, but now her decision to wait made her feel uncertain. “What if something happens? What if he gets hurt in there?” (name) thought, her mind becoming more chaotic.

(name) stepped forward, approaching the cave entrance. “Leon…” she called softly, fearful of interrupting but also hoping for a response. Silence. She called again, this time louder, “Leonhard!”

Still, there was no reply. (name) heart raced faster. She felt torn—on one hand, Leonhard had asked her to wait outside, but on the other, she couldn’t just leave her new friend in danger. Finally, her worry overcame her hesitation.

Quickly, (name) grabbed the creeping plants that grew wild around the cave. She skillfully began to prepare a rope from the plants, something she had learned while wandering in the forest. Her fingers moved nimbly, tying knot after knot securely, then anchoring one end of the rope to a thick tree trunk growing near the cave entrance.

“I need to be ready to get out,” she murmured to herself, ensuring her rope was secure. After being confident that the knots were strong and wouldn’t easily come undone, (name) took a deep breath. “I have to go in. I can’t leave Leon behind.”

Carefully, (name) entered the cave, gripping the rope tightly to help her step over the slippery, descending ground. The darkness grew denser inside, but she kept moving forward, relying on a sudden surge of bravery. Each step felt heavy, but (name) knew she couldn’t stop now. In her mind, there was only one goal: to find Leonhard and make sure he was okay.

As (name) ventured deeper, she felt the temperature in the cave drop. But the most frightening thing was the silence enveloping the place—only the sound of her own breathing and the soft rustling of the rope she clutched.

***

After Leonhard ventured deeper into the cave to search for the artifact, (name) waited outside with a growing sense of anxiety. Even though Leonhard had reassured her to stay put, (name) worries intensified as time passed. The sun began to set, and the dimming light of the cave added to (name) fears. She tried calling out for Leonhard, but there was no response. With her heart filled with concern, (name) realized she couldn’t leave Leonhard in danger alone.

With strong determination, (name) decided to enter the cave despite her fears. She prepared a rope made of vine and tied it to a tree near the cave's entrance, hoping it would help her return safely. Carefully, she stepped forward, trying to hold on to the rope.

However, after taking a few steps, her foot accidentally slipped on the slick ground. (name) struggled to maintain her grip on the rope, but it slipped from her hands, and she fell quickly, sliding down into the cave. In a panic, (name) screamed as she lost control, her body tumbling down the steep cave floor.

Her scream echoed loudly, causing Leonhard, who was deeper inside the cave, to immediately stop in his tracks. Holding a glowing stone, he turned and started running toward the source of the sound, his heart racing with concern. However, before he could reach the spot, (name) was already sliding down toward him.

In an instant, (name) collided with Leonhard, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. Leonhard fell onto the slick floor, unintentionally landing on top of (name), who had fallen first.

They lay still for a moment, the pain from the impact making it difficult to move. Feeling dizzy, Leonhard slowly lifted his head. At first, he didn't realize he was leaning against something soft and warm, but when he held the glowing stone up to his face, he was startled to find (name) face right beneath him.

With a face flushed with embarrassment, Leonhard quickly tried to get up, but the slippery ground made him lose his balance again, this time falling even closer to (name).

(name), still in shock from the fall, now felt Leonhard's body pressing down on her once more. She could feel the warmth of his body and the rapid beating of his heart, making her nervous as well. "Leonhard? Are you okay?" she asked softly, her hand gently cupping Leonhard's face to ensure he wasn't hurt.

Still in (name) embrace, Leonhard felt his cheeks growing warmer. But he knew he had to calm (name), who looked worried. "I... I'm fine," he replied softly, finally regaining his composure. After confirming they weren't seriously injured, they both attempted to rise again—this time more carefully.

Though they managed to stand, an awkward tension lingered between them. Yet behind that embarrassment, a warmth grew in their hearts.

***

Leonhard still held (name) hand tightly, speaking first, "Let’s go deeper inside." Although the atmosphere still felt awkward after the incident, (name) nodded and prepared to move. However, before she could fully step forward, her foot nearly slipped again. Leonhard, quick to react, immediately caught her, helping (name) regain her balance.

"Are you okay?" Leonhard asked, concern evident in his eyes as he assessed every detail of (name) expression.

(name) gave a faint smile, trying to reassure Leonhard even though her heart raced. "It seems like I twisted my ankle a bit, but I can still walk," she replied softly. Although (name) insisted she was fine, Leonhard decided to keep holding her hand firmly, ensuring she could lean on him for support.

A warm feeling spread in (name) heart at Leonhard's caring nature. Despite feeling awkward about the intimacy, she also felt protected. They continued walking in silence, yet that silence felt peaceful and comforting. Leonhard led the way, holding the glowing stone in his right hand, while his left hand gently clasped (name). Occasionally, he glanced at (name) to check if she was okay.

Time passed, and the cave grew darker, making the light from the Blue Moon stone shine even brighter. With its glow, they explored the damp, rocky crevices of the cave. After walking for a while, they finally reached a wall at the end of the passage. The wall was covered in vines adorned with blue flowers that resembled the ones outside the cave. As Leonhard approached the flowers with the glowing stone in hand, a miracle occurred—the flowers began to bloom, emanating a mesmerizing blue light.

The blue light filled the cave, creating a magical scene. (name) was captivated by the sight, her eyes sparkling with awe. "It's so beautiful..." she whispered softly, almost inaudibly.

Leonhard smiled, watching (name) reaction. He knew that this beauty wasn't just a coincidence. The glowing stone he held, known as the Blue Moon, was the key to activating the hidden artifact. The stone was a rare heirloom from the Valerian royal family, known only to direct descendants. While most in the kingdom considered it merely a decorative item, Leonhard, as a player aware of the game’s secrets, understood that the stone held more power than just a light source. It was the key to finding the legendary artifact passed down from the ancestors of the Valerian family.

As the light from the Blue Moon stone intensified, the vines covering the wall began to move of their own accord, slowly retreating and revealing a gap in the center. Behind that gap was a small room that had previously been sealed off. Inside the room, a large chest was illuminated by moonlight filtering through a small opening above the cave. The moonlight seemed to spotlight the chest, creating a sacred and mysterious atmosphere.

Leonhard and (name) exchanged glances, both realizing they had found something extraordinary. "We need to open that chest," Leonhard said, his voice trembling with anticipation and tension. (name) nodded in agreement, though she felt an uncertainty lingering in her mind. They stepped forward, approaching the chest.

Carefully, Leonhard set the Blue Moon stone down on the ground, making sure its light continued to illuminate the chest. (name) hands trembled as she looked at the carvings on the surface of the chest. Each detail seemed full of meaning, as if telling a long-forgotten history.

"Leonhard, look at this!" (name) pointed at a symbol on the chest resembling the Valerian family crest. "This must belong to your family!"

Leonhard nodded, feeling the weight of the heritage before him. With a sense of tension, he began to lift the chest's lid. The wood creaked as it opened, and the moonlight pouring into the chest created an indescribable magical atmosphere.

Inside was an artifact in the shape of a crown, made of a shining silver metal, adorned with sparkling stones that reflected the light. Each stone appeared to have its own unique color and beauty, as if each held a story and power of its own.

Leonhard and (name) were mesmerized, feeling a strong allure from the artifact. "What are we going to do with this?" (name) asked, her voice breathless with wonder.

Leonhard examined the artifact closely, his awareness of the responsibility and history involved beginning to sink in. "We must protect it. It could be the key to saving the kingdom," he replied, resolutely.

As they gazed at the magnificent artifact, the silence around them deepened, as if the outside world was also waiting for the answer to their adventure. Both realized that their journey had only just begun, and their destinies were now intricately woven with the history and mysteries yet to be unveiled ahead of them.

--- 

[2baddiesfanfics]

Fun in the Sun

Pairing: Nami x Robin

Tags: Public Sex, Boat Sex, Dildos, Scissoring, Anniversary

Summary:

Nami and Robin are able to snag some alone time when Zoro leads the rest of the crew off the ship. It's not very often the girls get the deck to themselves, but they couldn't ask for a better anniversary gift now that they finally have.

Read on Ao3

A light breeze tinged with the sweet, salty smell of the sea tingled Nami’s nose as she sat on her chair on the deck of the Sunny. The heat of the day was just starting to warm her skin as she admired Robin engrossed in her latest book.

To those unaware, it might have seemed like just another ordinary day. Gulls crying as they swooped by, the sounds of the crew taking care of their daily duties…all of these things had created a rhythm she had grown used to. Her gaze shifted to the woman who sat beside her once more.

One year. Today marked 365 days of being with the love of her life. To this day she couldn’t believe how her life had taken such a turn for the good. After all she had done, she’d always thought she’d spend the rest of her days atoning. When Robin initially decided to join the crew, Nami was just happy to no longer be the only woman on board.

As they spent day after day together talking about the boys’ crazy antics, their favorite foods, and the kind of clothing they wanted to purchase at the next island, their conversations eventually turned to much deeper matters. Their hopes, dreams, fears…love.

Honestly, Nami wasn’t prepared for the topic to even come up. Then again, Robin always did tend to be more forward. She had no filter - something the navigator loved about her. She was always unabashedly herself, never wanting to waste time.

The two had been innocently lying next to each other as they conversed when the archeologist had turned to face her.

“So…when are we going to admit to each other that what we share is more than friendship?”

Nami’s eyes had grown wide with shock. She realized long ago she was looking at Robin through a different lens. The way her smile dazzled when she laughed at one of her own morbid jokes. How she’d gently tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear whenever she was lost in thought while reading. The light pink color of her skin when she emerged from the bath and walked into their room in nothing but a flimsy towel that barely made it to the bottom of her thighs.

There was no way she was ever going to admit it to her. She was deathly afraid of what might happen if it didn’t work out. Robin was her crewmate - they were bound for life. If she had loved and then lost her, but still had to spend hours on end pretending she was ok…there was just no way she could endure that kind of heartbreak.

“Hey! Earth to Nami…I asked you a question, dear.”

Recovering from the initial surprise of the query, the navigator responded cautiously.

“What makes you think that?”

The archaeologist giggled. “You’re not exactly good at hiding it. The number of times I’ve caught you staring is embarrassing.”

Nami immediately turned bright red. “Look, Robin. I know you like to tease, but it’s not funny. If I did say the thought may or may not have crossed my mind…what would you say?”

Propping herself up on the elbow, Robin leaned forward.

“I’d say life’s too short to fear what may or may not be. Trust me. I’d know.”

She’s right. She always is.

“But…what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t want what we have to change.”

Robin had taken her hand in hers, and she could feel reassuring tenderness in the heat of her fingers.

“Not all change is bad. It’s what helps us grow and learn.”

Her arctic blue eyes were hypnotically sincere. The navigator could feel her fear melt away. If Robin was this sure, what did she have to lose?

“With that kind of confidence, I suppose you have much to teach me,” she said as she inched forward.

The conversation ended and their relationship began in a whirlwind of loud moans and contented sighs.

—————————

Nami was brought back to the present by Chopper’s hoof tugging at her arm.

“Nami! Zoro told me to come tell you and Robin the rest of the crew is going to spend some time in the village to resupply. We don’t want to interrupt your time relaxing so I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could grab for you guys.”

Yes! Zoro isn’t as dense as I thought! As the closest thing she had to a drinking buddy, she had mentioned to him a few nights ago she’d love some alone time with Robin to celebrate the occasion.

“Leave it to me. You two deserve it,” he had said with a friendly shoulder nudge.

The navigator picked the little reindeer up and gave him a tight squeeze. “Chopper, you’re so thoughtful! No, we grabbed more than enough at the last port. We’re just going to sit here and enjoy this amazing weather.” Hugging her back, he ran off excitedly to join the other men as they disembarked.

It was extremely rare for the women to have the ship all to themselves, and Nami was eager to make the most of it. Both of them were adventurous, and being confined to their quarters made spicing things up difficult to say the least.

“Baby, we’ve been out here for a while. I think you might need some more sunscreen,” she started, ulterior motive clear in her mind.

Robin looked up from her novel and lowered her aviator shades seductively. The way her eyes sparkled with desire informed Nami she was ready to play along with her little game.

“Oh, my. Where does the time go? I think you’re right. But I’m just getting to the good part…would you mind?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said as she reached for the bottle of lotion and squirted a small amount in her palm. She got up from where she was sitting and straddled her lap. Starting with her shoulders, she slowly massaged some into her skin. The clean fragrance mixed with the warmth of the sun triggered multiple senses.

Her hands drifted to her bikini-exposed chest, carefully spreading the protective substance while purposely ignoring the areas she knew longed for her touch. The swell of her breasts glistened as Nami worked the sunscreen in firmly.

“Mmm…actually…hold on,” Robin requested, using her devil fruit powers to sprout an extra pair of hands to undo the knot keeping her top on. The thin scrap of material fell to the side, her chest now fully exposed.

“Much better. If I’m to get an even tan, it just makes sense,” she teased. Nami couldn’t tear her eyes away from her rosy-pink nipples growing firmer as the sea breeze blew across them.

“What’s the matter? You’re normally so chatty, love. Something distracting you?”

“N-no! I’m just…making sure I cover you well so you don’t get burnt.”

“I see,” Robin replied nonchalantly. “Then maybe I should hold you steady to ensure you don’t miss a spot.” Laying her book down on the side table, she gripped Nami’s hips. Her lithe fingers toyed with the thin strings that kept her bikini bottoms tied to her body and the navigator could feel her heart nearly beat out of her chest.

“Thanks. Very thoughtful of you,” she ground out, trying not to fold like a beach chair. The teasing could only last so long before she’d lose the upper hand. It was time to turn up the heat. Nami dropped further, oil-slick fingertips now working her nipples. Robin let out a soft whimper.

“I think these are done,” she said with a firm squeeze. Her hands wandered to her girlfriend’s toned stomach and around over to her sides. Moving closer, her lips brushed her ear. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to fuck you out here.”

Not expecting her to say something so raunchy, Robin gripped her ass and pulled her toward her.

“Then stop stalling, you little tease.”

Nami’s lips crashed against hers like waves against a ship, their mutual groaning the only sound beside the ocean. Her tongue begged entrance and Robin raised no defenses. The two took their time, alternating between feather-soft and rough, urgent kisses.

“I’d kiss…the rest of your body…but…too sticky…” she uttered between love bites to Robin’s neck.

“Ahhhh…please…just need you,” she whined. Nami grabbed the tie of the archeologist’s bikini bottom and pulled as she shifted out of it. Unable to control herself, Robin mimicked the action and yanked the navigator’s off as well.

Nami repositioned herself so her clit now slid against hers, both of them already wet from the intense foreplay. Her hips swiveled, moving in ways that made Robin’s head spin. She matched the other woman’s speed, eager for them both to come together.

“Fuck…Nami…”

“Close?”

“Yes…fuck…so close…”

“Come with me?”

She could only answer with a long, deep guttural moan as she shook under the pressure of her orgasm. Robin leaned her head against Nami’s shoulder as she rubbed gentle circles with her thumbs on the navigator’s hips.

“So good it left you speechless, huh?” She teased.

Robin smirked. “I don’t know about that. But I do think it’s time for me to one-up you. You didn’t think I came out here unprepared, did you?” She reached into the beach bag next to her and pulled out a double-sided dildo they’d purchased on the last island.

Nami knitted her brow in both shock and confusion. “Wait…how did you-“

“You weren’t the only one who asked Zoro to get the guys to leave today,” she said with a wink. “Follow me. I’ve got a plan.”

The two walked to the second floor of the ship. “Face the railing, my love,” the archaeologist instructed. Nami did as she was told and felt her situate her so she was now bent over.

The navigator felt heat rise to her cheeks. “My, how beautiful you look in this position,” Robin said as she smacked her ass.

Still sensitive from her first orgasm, she moaned in response. She heard her girlfriend’s sweet laugh behind her as she took the tip of the toy and smoothly inserted it into Nami’s wet folds. The navigator clenched the railing as she adjusted to the new sensation.

“Doing alright?”

“Y-yes. Just bracing myself.” She could feel Robin slip the other end into herself and imagined what she could not see. Her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as it slid into her and the little hum she let out once she’d adjusted. The vision made her twitch her hips backward.

The woman grabbed her waist to still her. “Now, now. Patience, dear. What’s got you so eager?”

“You,” Nami whispered bashfully.

“Oh really? What about me?”

“That cute little noise you make when you’re ready. How beautiful you look after we make love.”

Nami felt the archeologist’s hands on her hips once more as she slowly thrust.

“Oh, is that so?” She said with a grunt.

“Y-yes,” Nami moaned.

Robin swayed back and forth as she kissed her shoulder. The navigator rocked in rhythm and turned her head to the side to get a glimpse of her.

Producing a hand and placing it under Nami’s chin, she grabbed her and made her face forward. “Ah, ah, ah. You must keep watch, my love. Make sure the boys don’t find us like this. You don’t want Sanji to get an eye-full now, do you?

Just the thought of him seeing them like this annoyed her. Both of them were equally possessive, and neither would want him to see them in such a way.

“No,” Nami breathlessly groaned.

“Good girl,” Robin whispered as she gently bit the tip of her ear.

“Ohhhhh, Robin!”

The woman’s thrusts were becoming more erratic as she neared her peak.

“Fuck…Robin…coming!” Nami screamed as she shuttered around the toy. She could feel the archaeologist’s fingernails dig into her skin as she rushed to her own orgasm.

“Nami…” she choked out as she pulled her closer and came along with her. Nuzzling her neck, she murmured, “Happy anniversary.”

—————————-

After a nice, leisurely bath (complete with a few more orgasms), the couple once again sat out on the deck as they waited for the rest of the crew to re-embark. Both nearly fell asleep in their post-sex haze when they heard the clicking of Chopper’s feet on the wooden planks of the ship.

“Nami! Robin! We brought you a little something!” He said as he waddled up to them with a small gift bag. The other men crowded around them as they watched them sift through the flimsy paper inside.

Their hands emerged holding matching pendants in the shape of a log pose.

“The shitty cook said it’d be romantic or some shit. Happy anniversary, you two,” Zoro announced. Sanji kicked him in the side.

“Oy! Moss-head! How about a little more tact? I said they symbolize how you lovely ladies will always find a way back to each other. Ignore this dumbass! Let’s go have the cake I baked earlier to celebrate,” he said as he turned to face the swordsman. “You can have whatever crumbs are left.”

Zoro scoffed. “Like I’d want your crappy cake anyway.”

“What did you just say?”

“BOYS!” Nami yelled. “Behave. Thank you so much for the thoughtful present. We love them. What we don’t love is you two trying to kill each other. Let’s have a peaceful rest of the evening, ok?”

Robin snickered at the exchange, grabbed her girlfriend by the hand, and made her way to the kitchen to enjoy another something sweet.

[mybworlds]

Come back to me

pairing: ex!javier peña x f!reader

Summary: You love Javi so much, you'd do anything for him, but when a new undercover mission involves him, he left.

Warnings: loneliness, petals crumbled in hands, smut memories, f masturbation, use of you, no use of Y/N, no description of the female character, she has feminine features,the woman depicted has the sole purpose of representing, but you can imagine her however you like.

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

He left you. Again.

This isn't the first time he left you because of his job. And like other times you forgave him and welcomed him back into your arms, into your bed, into your life, into your heart.

Each time the same words, the same promises and each time these promises were broken and your heart broken.

You knew you should never have fallen in love with him, you knew he was the wrong person to fall in love with, you knew what kind of person he was, you knew that he loved his job above all else, but for you his passion and dedication to work had always been a source of pride.

One day, however, he suffered a fairly serious injury to his shoulder and ended up in hospital. You were so afraid of losing him.

"Swear!" you almost shouted at him, shaking his hand tightly with both of your hands "Swear to me that you will never take part in these missions again!" your eyes were full of tears "I don't want to stay without you, please. I beg you. Don't risk your life for your job like that!"

And he promised. Deep down, you knew that Javi would never be able to completely put aside his work, but you hoped that he could dedicate himself more to an office job and instead three weeks later he was already chasing the next criminal.

You still remember the sleepless nights spent on the terrace waiting for him, you remember how you walked up and down and the fear you felt until you heard the door open and saw him appear in one piece. Only then you breathe a sigh of relief and run towards him throwing your arms around his neck, he also returned the hug and kissed your shoulder softly. You were truly at peace only in those moments or when you were in bed or on the terrace making love.

You loved him so much.

You still love him.

Unfortunately.

You miss his crooked smile, his unfailing confidence, his stubbornness, his sweet and reassuring words, his caresses and his hugs, the way he caressed your hair or his gaze when you made love.

Everything was perfect, then came the investigation that turned everything upside down. His boss gave him the task of infiltrating in order to learn about and dismantle another drug cartel. You trembled when he told you about it, you could see it and sense his concern, but at the same time his eyes shone at the idea of dismantling another cartel as had happened in the past.

"Please don't do this. I'm scared, Javi." you told him, you saw his hands shaking slightly as he lit a cigarette.

"I have to. It's not something I can choose to do or not to, mi amor." he told you taking a puff on the cigarette "I'm sorry, but I can't help but be there." he added exhaling slowly.

You trembled, begged him to leave the task to someone else, but he shook his head and after a couple of puffs in silence he added "If I ever had a baby, I would want the world to be a better place."

"Do you think I want to have a child with you under these conditions? Do you think I want to stay with you with the fear of never seeing you come back? I can't take all this." time seemed to have come stopped, your head was spinning, you were going to corner Javi, but only with the hope of hearing him say that he mattered you more than that mission and instead he told you "You don't understand, it's not about you and me, or what I feel for you", then he turned his back on you and took some of his things before leaving.

The nights have become incredibly long, loneliness is now your only company, the roses that Javi got for you are withering and one morning, gripped by strong anger, you started tearing away the rosebuds, squeezing them tightly in your hands until you only felt a light mush in your hands.

"Fuck you, Javi." one morning you whispered, looking towards his pillow and the half of the bed where he slept.

You turn belly up in bed and wonder why you always have to love someone who is so complicated. You want to hate him, but the truth is that you always think about him, you wonder how he is and if he's okay, if he will ever come back to you or if this time he has turned his back on you forever.

"Please, come back." you say, looking towards his pillow and stretching out a hand towards the cold side of the bed.

You fall asleep, but your dreams are about him, only him.

When you wake up, for a moment you have the impression of smelling him, you've completely lost your mind, you think.

"Javi?" you call him, but he doesn't answer or appear at your door. You just dreamed about him.

You miss him, even though you told him that you don't want a strong bond with him under the conditions in which you live.

You close your eyes and think of him, of his mouth with which he always filled you with kisses, his piercing eyes scrutinizing you carefully, his hands caressing your body.

"Javi. . ." you whisper, you want to call him, but you're afraid of getting him into trouble.

You decide to get up and go to the terrace, it's dawn. The city slowly begins to wake up, the night lights turn off to welcome the light of day.

You observe the round sofa on which you have fallen asleep many times while waiting for him, many times you have woken up there feeling his soft lips resting on yours or feeling a blanket gently settle on you and then find yourself in his arms as he carried you back to bed where he hugged you and held you tightly to him.

You remember how many times you made love on that same sofa! You remember his arms around your torso, while you pushed yourself on him, his sighs in your ear and the many pet names he gave you as he met your thrusts.

You go back inside and lie down on the bed again, the memories of him become even more intense and before you can even think about it, your hand slides there between your thighs, you take off your panties to have better access to your cunt.

You close your eyes thinking about him, you recall about the many times he caressed you with his hand or how many times he exposed your intimacy to his mouth and tongue, you think back to his sweet and cadenced thrusts that made you tremble under him or that they made you arch your back.

Your finger slips easily inside you as you think about how many times he made love with you on that bed or how many times you have caressed his manhood after a busy day at work and felt it contract between your lips or your hands, "Fuck. . ." you find yourself moaning as you feel the contractions of your orgasm wash over you in ever-increasing waves of pleasure “Javi,” you moan, bending your legs and curling your toes.

"I'm here," you hear his voice, but you keep your eyes closed because you know that if you open them he won't really be with you, so you come imagining him next to you watching you with his dark eyes and his wistful look.

A/N Hey there, this is a one-shot that crossed my mind a few hours ago, this one-shot is set maybe at the end of the third season of "Narcos" but you can imagine before too. Can't wait for tomorrow to watch "The Gladiator II" trailer, it'll be the best birthday gift for me ❤️

[heartnanase]

I should’ve swallowed my pride sooner

scaramouche x u

angst….lmfaoooooooo cuz i got my heart broken like a month ago😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏 universe please i’m not your strongest soldier

You took a breath, a long one at his front door as your shaky hands reached to knock his door, then slowly hesitated. It was your bestfriends lecture that’s making you do this. She said something about how ‘you can’t expect him to do all the work’ and she was right. It’s been tormenting you for what felt like years. You overheard him the other day, he said he was tired. The only reason why he gave up on you was because he was tired. Tired of texting first, tired of lack of communication, tired of confusion, tired of being the only one trying. A tear fell from your face as you claimed you were mad, not because he was tired, mad because he didn’t tell you. Scaramouche didn’t say he was tired, he said he stopped liking you. A loud gulp filled the air as you rang his door bell.

Scaramouche opens the door and his eyes slowly widen. “Oh uh. If you’re here to grab your shirt then-“ you scoff as you confront him “why didn’t you tell me.” to be honest, you didn’t even understand why you were so angry when it was your fault to begin with. you knew more than anyone else why he didn’t tell you anything, you were too scared to communicate but this time you refused to run away. “Tell you what.” He said confused as he watched you nervously dig your nails into your palms.

“That you were tired.” Scaramouche looks away when he hears your responds and goes quiet. You bjte onto your inner lip as hard as you could to hold your tears “You know, I don’t care if you genuinely stopped liking me, but… but you should’ve told me..” silent sniffs escaped as you tried to hold your shaky voice “I spent hours wondering what I did and you said it was because we had nothing in common. why… why didn’t you just—“ Scaramouche cuts you off. “I thought you stopped liking me.” His words didn’t surprise you, but it still killed you. How do you live with yourself knowing you destroyed the only good thing in your life, you never reassured him, you never said goodnight or good morning, you never tried. Not because you were incapable, because you were afraid to get hurt and purposely made him chase after you to see if he truly wanted you. “Scaramouche” you repeatedly shook your head as you sighed “i think i… love you”

“I dont know.. I dont know how I feel about you.”

You wiped your tears in anger… or sadness.. or whatever. You just knew whatever you felt wasn’t good. “No, no. You can’t just ‘I dont know’ with somebody’s feelings Scaramouche. It’s not fair. You either tell me you love me too, or give me closure so I can move on. that’s all there is to it. If you want to break my heart then break it.” Only silence could be heard, who knew it was so loud. Closure, silence was your closure but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough yet you still turned around and walked away. Nobody will ever know how much strength it took to walk away when you still had millions, maybe even billions of unanswered questions. Nobody will ever know how much strength it took to walk away even when you wanted to wait till he would be able to answer your feelings. Nobody will ever will ever know how much strength it took to walk away from the only time you would ever be able to get the only answer holding you back from staying or moving on.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 30

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

TW: Toxic Relationship

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, January 3rd; 6:45 PM -  Manchester Restaurant.

Today was really strange. Leah and Alessia parents were supposed to return in the afternoon, so most of us left their house around noon after a much-needed cleanup. Our boozy evening and the two days that followed had left quite the mess, as we all stayed over to sleep. Luckily, nothing was broken.

Everyone went their separate ways in the afternoon. The Alba, Patri, Caudia and Leah decided to stay and have a geek day in Leah's room. Alessia, Maya and Ella opted for a trip around town and a visit to the park on this last day of freedom. As for Alexia, Mapi, and me, we decided to grab a bite somewhere before taking Mapi to the airport.

Mapi didn’t really want to leave. She loved her short stay here, even though she complained a lot about the weather. She adored the city and enjoyed the time spent with my friends. We spent most of our time with Alexia, with whom she quickly became friends. Saying goodbye was hard for everyone when it was time for her flight.

Afterward, Alexia perfectly organized the rest of our day. She made plans to see Jenni one last time before school resumed. I offered to join the girls and leave her alone with him, but she insisted I stay. According to her, it would have led to a bunch of questions she wasn't ready to answer. Knowing she was right, I resigned myself to stay.

I wasn’t thrilled at first, but she reassured me by saying that Jenni had invited Ingird and Lucy to join us. I also learned that Alexia had just discovered their names on New Year’s, which really surprised me. After all, they are her girlfriend’s friends, but according to Alexia, it wasn’t up to her. It seems Lucy wanted it that way. She hadn’t taken Jenni's departure well and, as a result, had kept her distance from any connection between them.

It must have been tough for Alexia, knowing Lucy is her girlfriend’s best friend. Lucy remained very cold toward her, which intimidated Alexia a lot. I now understand better why Alexia reacted the way she did when Lucy visited our room. She had every reason to be afraid of my supervisor. However, it seems like things are finally starting to improve.

Alexia confessed that this was the first time she’d seen our instructors outside of school. This afternoon was the second time. Lucy had agreed to come. Ingird, however, already had plans. So, after Mapi's flight took off, we took a taxi and joined them at Jenni’s place, where we spent the rest of the afternoon at her apartment.

Now, here we are at the restaurant, where I’m sitting next to Alexia and across from Lucy. We didn’t leave too late since we have to be back at school by nine. Lucy kept reminding us, so we couldn’t forget. It’s still a very strange situation to end the holidays. I’ve spent most of my time with Lucy, as the two lovebirds haven’t let go of each other all afternoon.

“Have you heard from Mapi?” Alexia asks me.

“No, but I should soon. I told her to take the morning flight, but she didn’t listen.”

“Why should she have taken the morning one?” Jenni asks.

“She’ll land late tonight. She’s bound to be exhausted for her first day back tomorrow.”

“Well, she really didn’t want to leave,” Alexia chuckles. “She picked the latest flight possible.”

“Let’s hope her return to reality isn’t too harsh.”

“Is she not doing well?” Lucy asks. “She seemed fine at New Year’s.”

“Mapi isn’t the kind of person who shows her struggles in front of others,” I reply honestly.

“I know someone else like that,” she murmurs, sipping her drink.

I know she’s talking about me. I’m not someone who expresses myself in front of others either. When I do, it’s only in front of one person, and that’s very rare. Lucy was an exception, which is still hard for me to understand. I had never cried in front of her like I did.

“What happened?” Alexia asks curiously, to my relief.

“Well… Her girlfriend cheated on her with my ex,” I admit. “So, let’s just say their relationship didn’t end well.”

Alexia doesn’t have time to react because Lucy chokes on her drink. She sets her glass down hard, looking at me with wide eyes. It reminds me that I hadn’t actually told her the reasons for their sudden breakup.

“The ex I’m thinking of?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“That’s why the other night… Well…”

I shake my head, understanding what she means. She’s referring to the night I called her in tears. It had nothing to do with that, but now she has a reason to be curious. Our friends look at us with a mix of curiosity and confusion as they watch our exchange.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Lucy says, noticing our friends’ reactions.

There’s not much more to say, but I agree to avoid continuing this private conversation here.

“So, anyway,” Jenni interjects before the mood around the table can cool down. “Why did you come to school, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My mom gave me the choice between school or kicking me out without a place to live,” I say with a shrug.

An “ouch” louder than I intended escapes my lips as I get kicked under the table. I glare at Lucy, realizing she’s the one who kicked me. I calm down when I see she’s giving me the same look.

“You didn’t tell me that either,” she grumbles. “I thought your mom knew Wiegman, and that’s why you got a spot?”

“That’s true. At least, I suppose so,” I reply with another shrug. “Don’t I have the right to have secrets, Commander?” I tease her.

“No, not about things like that. Especially if you can talk about it so openly with a stranger.”

Her reaction surprises me a bit. She had never before complained that I didn’t tell her something.

“Well, you never asked,” I retort.

“Come on. We both know I’ve always let you talk to me at your own pace about why you came to Camp Wiegman.”

“You’re not telling me you’re upset, are you?” I joke.

“Yes, completely,” she says, crossing her arms.

I lose my smile when I realize she really is, judging by the look on her face. Is she seriously upset over something so minor? Why does it matter to her if I talk to someone else? I was ready to say anything to make her stop sulking, but I understand her game when a tiny smirk on her lips betrays her. I smile too, much more relieved than I should be, realizing she’s not really mad at me.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“And why not?” she counters.

“Because you know things even Mapi doesn’t. And Mapi is the person who knows me best.”

My words are sincere, and they seem to have an effect on Lucy, who looks at me in a strange way. The tense atmosphere eases suddenly, as if she realizes what this means to me. She doesn’t seem to grasp how much influence she has over me—or maybe she does and enjoys it. Either way, all I know is that I feel good talking to her. I feel listened to, and she has this way of making me want to confide in her and no one else. She genuinely seems interested in my problems, which is very important to me.

“Lately, you’re the first person I turn to when something important happens in my life. It’s… I don’t know. It’s become automatic, I guess.”

Her eyes soften at this new revelation. She seems to appreciate it. In any case, I’ve never been this honest in my life.

“Alright… Thank you, then. That’s what I want you to do. Well, not necessarily being the first… Although it means a lot to me that I am, but what’s important is that I know.”

My cheeks warm up as I realize my words didn’t fall on deaf ears. I force a smile, which she returns with a touch of amusement. Then I turn my eyes to the couple sitting with us. Alexia is looking at me strangely, making me feel a bit more uncomfortable. She’s seen us interact before, but never like this. No one knows the extent of our relationship. We don’t even know ourselves. I wish I could talk to someone about it to clarify things, but I doubt Lucy would appreciate it. The problem is, I’m afraid to bring it up with her, too, in case she gets angry. Maybe she won’t anymore, now that she declared us friends a few days ago... I should try again sometime.

The meal continues peacefully after the waiter brings our food. Jenni keeps asking me questions to get to know me better. I enjoy answering her. In return, I learn things about her, like how close she is to my supervisor or that she’s been dating Alexia for almost a year. She explained how Alexia wouldn’t leave her alone and how hard it was for her to resist when she noticed her from day one. Lucy doesn’t participate much in this conversation. She seems almost bored. Her behavior around this whole thing is really strange. I’ll be sure to ask her why when I get the chance. To avoid bothering her any longer, I steer the conversation toward Jenni’s personal life. I learn that she works at a gym since being laid off from the school and that she’s also developing a project with Lucy. I was curious about that, so I wanted to ask more questions, but Lucy doesn’t seem to agree, as she abruptly ends our evening.

“It’s after eight. We should go if we don’t want to be late.”

“You’re taking them then?” Jenni asks.

“Well, yeah, I’m not going to leave them here.”

“What a shame,” I comment.

“You can say that to anyone but me,” she smiles.

I bite my lip, mentally cursing her for knowing me so well. I’ve calmed down lately, and I’m starting to enjoy this school. Camp Wiegman has become my home. It was hard to admit, but it’s the truth. It gives me the stability I was missing in Barcelona. I hope that after I leave, I’ll have found a career path that will keep me from sitting at home with nothing to do.

Under Lucy’s pressure, we decide to head to the register to pay our bill. I’m the first to finish. I wait off to the side after paying. I was lost in thought while waiting for my friends when my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I frown as an unknown number appears on the screen. I decide to ignore it, thinking if it’s important, they’ll call back. And they do. I immediately think of Mapi, who must have landed by now. I sigh, glancing at Lucy as she joins me.

“Someone’s trying to call me. I’ll step outside to take it.”

“Alright. Don’t stray too far, please.”

I nod before heading for the exit. I take the third call and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Ona?” the voice on the other end surprises me. “Oh my God, I finally got through to you…”

The voice on the other end freezes me the moment I recognize it. I can’t believe it. How did she get my number after all this time? I even changed it to get away from her!

“Ona, I just want to talk to you.”

“Leave me alone, Feli, damn it! How did you get my number?!”

"It doesn't matter. Just let me talk to you! I've changed! How many times do I have to tell you? I promise I won't hurt you anymore... I miss you, and I know you miss me too. What do I have to do to convince you to come back to me?"

I jump when a hand touches my shoulder. I relax when I see it's Lucy. I was so upset that I didn't hear her join me. I close my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts. Feli keeps on with her spiel on the other end. I should answer her to get her off my back once and for all, but I don't have the strength to do it. The only thing I can do is hang up on her. Lucy seems to notice.

"Is there a problem?"

I hide my screen when I see her looking at it. I hope she didn't see anything. I don't particularly want to drag her into this.

"No, it's settled," I say, blocking the number.

"Alright... If you say so. Let's go then."

I glance at my phone one last time to make sure it's really over before following her to her car, where the couple is already waiting for us. It was more practical to take hers since we loaded it with our suitcases. I sit in the back with Alexia, and Jenni sits in the front with Lucy. We have to make a small detour to drop Jenni off at her apartment.

"I'm sitting in front!" I shout as soon as Lucy stops the car.

I'm the first to get out of the car. The others also get out to say goodbye to Jenni. Alexia goes last, taking her time to kiss her. While they finish, Lucy leans against the car next to me. She might not approve of their relationship, but she’s at least considerate enough to let them say goodbye. I sigh as I feel my phone vibrating again. Deep down, I hope it’s really Mapi this time, but I quickly realize it’s not when I see another unknown number. Knowing her, she probably got another phone. She doesn't even give me ten seconds to breathe before starting again. Over and over. The fifth time was the last straw. An inexplicable rage fills me, and before I realize what I'm doing, my phone bounces off the asphalt from the force of my throw before landing flat on its screen several meters in front of us.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Lucy scolds, surprised.

"Damn it," I mutter, realizing what I've just done.

I immediately rush over to check the damage, squatting down to examine my phone. I grimace when I see the screen shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Let me see."

I bite my lip as I look at Lucy, who has knelt down next to me. I hand it to her to examine for herself. I groan when I realize she can't get it to turn back on. Damn it, I've really messed up this time. I’ve always taken care to make sure nothing happened to it, and now it’s unusable in a split second.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" Lucy snaps.

"Not here... Please."

"Fine. We’ll talk when we get to school then, and that’s non-negotiable."

She stands up first, preventing me from saying anything else. I sigh as I head back to the car. I briefly glance at Alexia, who silently asks me what just happened. I shake my head in response before getting back into the car. The girls quickly join me, and the drive is eerily quiet. Thankfully, there's music to fill the silence. I feel like Lucy is angry with me without knowing why. I keep glancing at her and notice her hands are clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

"Stop looking at me," she growls.

I sigh and decide to look away for the rest of the drive. It was the longest trip of my life. Engen was at the reception when we arrived. She lets us through and notes our arrival on a piece of paper. Lucy leads us to the back parking lot. When we get out, she opens the trunk, where Alexia retrieves her suitcase. I wanted to get mine, but Lucy stops me.

"Later. We need to talk first."

"Can I at least drop my things off in my room first?" I try to negotiate. "No...? Okay..." I add quietly when I see her stern face. "Fine..." I resign.

Alexia leaves without me when she realizes I’m not allowed to follow. As for us, we head toward the gym. A countless number of solutions run through my mind. She’s not going to punish me again, is she? I relax when she leads us to an office and not a sports hall as I expected.

"Why are we here?"

"To be more discreet. Unlike my office in the other building, the lights from the administration can’t be seen here."

I nod in understanding. It will certainly save her from answering questions the next day. She turns on the light before we sit down on the two visitor chairs in front of the desk. I would have preferred if she sat across from me. It’s much more intimidating to have her so close. She turns her chair so she can face me with her arms crossed. That’s not a good sign if she’s in that position. She must be irritated by something, but what? Not knowing why makes me even more nervous.

"Talk."

I take a deep breath, realizing she’s letting me speak. Damn, this is a really delicate situation. My fingers start fidgeting to distract myself.

"I don't know where to start," I admit.

"The beginning, and don't beat around the bush, please."

"Okay... Well... I think Feli is harassing me..."

My voice was just a barely understandable whisper at the end. I’m not even sure I understood myself. I don’t understand why I’m reacting like this. It’s not like I did anything wrong. Lucy frowns.

"What’s that mumble supposed to mean if you speak up and talk clearly?"

I sigh, looking away. I don’t like it when she makes me feel this uncomfortable.

"Hey, look at me," she orders, and I do so, albeit reluctantly. "I don't want to bother you by doing this, but it’s important to me to know what’s wrong in your life."

"It's ridiculous... I can handle it on my own..."

"Don’t let your lack of self-confidence speak for you," she scolds. "I’m here to help you, remember? And I will if I can do something about your problem. You won’t get into any trouble if that’s what you’re thinking."

Her words had the desired effect on me. My muscles relax, as if I’m laying down arms in a battle. I don’t like fighting with her because it reminds me of my early days here. I feel like I’m not doing what it takes to become who I was before. Telling her what’s happening can’t hurt, right...? I linger on her hand, which has just rested on my knee. I close my eyes tightly, fighting against myself.

"You're making progress, right?"

"Yes..." I exhale.

"Do you want to go back to how things were? Because that’s what you’re doing. You opened up to me and freed yourself from a burden. I know because otherwise you wouldn’t trust me. So why are you hesitating?"

I open my eyes to see her hand pressing on my knee. She’s pushing me toward relief.

"We both know you need someone to vent to. If I’m not the right person for you, then do it with someone else who can help. What’s most important to me is that you talk without feeling uncomfortable. Locking yourself up like this, without seeking a solution, is cowardly and will undo all the progress you’ve made so far."

Her words touch me so much that I’m on the verge of expressing everything through tears. I hold back, however, preferring to stay strong. I feel ridiculous. She just wants to help me, and in return, I still hesitate to trust her judgment. She’s proven time and time again that she’s a reliable person. I think what scares me the most is her reaction. I can already sense she’s irritated, and I don’t know how she’ll take the news.

"If it’s a trust issue or—"

"No," I interrupt her. "Please don’t think that because it’s not the case."

My interruption must have surprised her because she immediately fell silent. She nods softly.

"I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m always afraid of crossing one of your boundaries," she confesses.

"You’ve never had anything to apologize for, Lucy... It’s just that before being here, I never had anyone but Mapi by my side. She helped me, but she was far from having the same reactions as you. Yours scare me because I can never anticipate them, and I don’t know what you’re thinking."

"Alright..." she sighs. "You feel nervous because you sense I’m upset, is that it?"

"Yeah..." I reply after a slight hesitation, finally looking up. "I don’t like it when we argue, and that’s what will happen if we don’t agree."

"I’m angry because I feel this is important and you don’t realize it. If you did, you would have already told me when we spoke on the phone last week."

"What I told you that night has nothing to do with what I think now. I didn’t expect her to start again."

She frowns as I bite my lip. I can’t turn back now that I’ve started.

"If it’s what I think it is, I’m afraid it’s something more serious than you realize. I really want you to talk to me so I can be sure."

"Alright... I’ll talk..."

I take a deep breath to muster the courage. I can no longer look Lucy in the eyes. Deep down, I know she’s right, and I’m starting to fear her reaction. Knowing her, it will probably be drastic, and that’s scary.

"Explain it to me."

Her encouraging voice is soft, unexpectedly. It seems my behavior has calmed her. I nod gently and begin.

"W-when I went back home, Feli was desperate..."

My voice is trembling, and I can’t control it.

"No one ever knew I still had some contact with her... I was a junkie, but Feli was like another kind of drug for me... S-she made me dependent on her. S-she kept telling me I was nothing without her, that I would never achieve anything. T-that she was the only person who understood me..."

Tears well up in my eyes. Talking about it out loud brings me back to years ago.

"That’s not true. You know that now... Don’t you?" she asks, making me nod with difficulty.

"I-I had a hard time believing it... B-but yes, I know now..."

"She’s the one who destroyed your self-confidence," she sighs. "Believe me, you deserve much better than someone like her."

She reassures me, wiping away the tears that slipped down my cheek without my consent. I nod, trembling slightly. I pull myself together before continuing my explanation.

"Mapi found out one night when I was in the shower. She noticed the numerous messages she was sending me, and she immediately reported it to my mother. I was angry at her at first, even though I knew she just didn’t want to lose me again... I eventually realized she was messing with my head and that what she was doing was harassment... S-she didn’t stop. I had to block him on all my social media and change my number so she couldn’t contact me anymore..."

"And you’re saying she’s doing it again...? Is that why she drugged you? She wanted you to come back to her?"

« Y-yes... I-I thought telling her I didn't want anything to do with her anymore would be enough, but it seems like that's not the case..."

"How many times have you seen her recently?"

"T-twice. Once at that party where she drugged me, and the second time last week, the night I called you... Every time, she kept saying she missed me and wanted a second chance..."

"She hasn't tried to see you since then?" she asks.

I shake my head. I dare to look at her and see her running a hand through her hair. She looks even more irritated than before. I feel ashamed for having kept something like this from her.

"You should have told me about this a long time ago," she scolds me harshly. "This is serious stuff that shouldn't be taken lightly."

"I-I know, I'm sorry," I say sincerely. "Mapi thinks she's looking for me at parties. She goes to a lot of the ones she's at. I-I'd even bet she slept with Mapi's girlfriend on purpose just to hurt her. I didn't have the heart to tell her because I was afraid of hurting her, but I think she suspects it deep down."

"What happened that night that made you break your phone?"

"She somehow found my number, I don't know how, and started harassing me from multiple numbers within a quarter of an hour... I-I'm sorry, I just lost it. I-I didn't expect her to start up again..."

Lucy sighs in frustration while gently stroking my knee. Her touch is soft, in contrast to her deep voice that resonates in the room.

"That's clearly harassment, Ona. This is very serious. You should press charges against her before she goes too far."

"No! I don't want it to go that far. All I want is for her to leave me alone."

"I don't know your ex, but trust me, that might be the only way to get her to stop."

"I don't want to."

"Ona..." she sighs.

"I said no!" I persist.

For some reason, I just can't do that to Feli. Her past has never been great, but I'm not ready to send her to jail. Even after everything she's done to me, she was there for me for a long time. Maybe one day I'll be able to, but not now.

"Fine, but I won't let you set foot in Barcelona again."

My lips part at her unexpected decision. I don't even need to ask if she's joking, judging by the look on her face. Is she blackmailing me? I know her position as an instructor doesn't give her the right to forbid me from doing this, but she has influence over my weekend outings. She might even lie to keep me here.

"You're so wrapped up in your own world that you don't realize how serious this situation is. I won't let you go back home unless I know you're safe."

"Please, Luce, I've always come back, and there's never been any trouble."

"That was different. I would have thought twice if I'd known all of this. My decision is non-negotiable, and if you keep pushing, I'll be forced to talk to Wiegman."

"No, you can't do that!" I cry out. "I trust you!"

"This has nothing to do with trust, Ona ! To me, this girl is a dangerous psychopath. If you're not ready to take action against her, then I'll take action on your behalf, that's all."

I groan in frustration as I sink into the chair. I knew I wouldn't like her reaction, but forbidding me from going home? That's totally unexpected. I thought she'd be angry, but I didn't expect things to get so dramatic. Filing a complaint is still beyond me. My mom wanted me to do it back then, and I didn't. I hate to admit it, but I still care about her.

"Take your time to think about it. In the meantime, you won't be going home."

"This really isn't fair."

"If you keep complaining, you'll stay here alone instead of going back with me."

"Going back with you...?" I ask, confused.

I finally dare to look at her again and see her smiling softly at me.

"This situation isn't your fault... I said I wouldn't let you go home. But I didn't say you couldn't leave school... Since I promised to show you around the city, this could be a good opportunity."

"Oh... I thought you wouldn't do it."

"I will, but only if you get permission and I think you deserve it."

"So I won't be allowed to complain in that case...?"

"No," she smiles. "You'll have to be extra nice to me," she teases.

"I'll try," I say, rolling my eyes with amusement. "I really want that tour."

"I figured... Well, it's getting late. We should head back to our rooms."

"Yeah..."

Our conversation completely changed in a split second. I know she won't forget what she said, and she's only stopping because of the time. We put the chairs back in place, and she turns off the lights as we leave. We head back to her car, where we retrieve our things from the trunk. I remember at that moment that I have something that belongs to her.

"Wait."

"What?"

I put my suitcase on the ground to open it without spilling everything. Silly me, I put it at the bottom. Now I have to dig around to find it.

"What are you doing now?" she sighs.

"I didn't think it through," I chuckle. "Wait a minute."

I pull out her Christmas gift, trying not to mess up my suitcase. It's a bit tricky, but as long as I can close it again, I don't care.

"Well, I had to maneuver it a bit to fit it in the suitcase, but I managed. Mapi had a good laugh at me."

"What is it?" she frowns.

"Your Christmas gift, of course! Sorry, I ran out of wrapping paper and had to protect it somehow, so... here," I say, handing it to her.

I smile at her surprise. I watch as she takes the frame out of the bubble wrap. She frowns, not understanding my gift. I chuckle and come to her aid, unfolding the three square canvases I had fixed together with hinges to reveal the painting. It was supposed to be on a single vertical canvas, but I wouldn't have been able to transport it to Manchester that way. She smiles as she realizes what it is.

"It's the drawing from your sketchbook that I said I liked, right?"

"Yeah, but an improved version," I laugh.

I bought black canvases to paint a large dreamcatcher. In my sketchbook, it was done in pencil, but here I made it in rainbow colors, using mostly pale colors for the overall design and bright colors for the finishing touches. I finished it off with a white border and, of course, signed it with my name.

"You really didn't have to. It's beautiful. Thank you! You have such incredible talent. I'll hang it up when I get home," she smiles.

"It's nothing. It's all handmade."

She puts the painting back in her suitcase after wrapping it back in the bubble wrap. At least I was sure it wouldn't get damaged during the trip. I frown as she hands me a small box covered in wrapping paper.

"Since you gave me yours, it's time I give you mine."

"Really? I-I wasn't expecting anything..."

"Neither was I," she chuckles. "It's a Christmas gift, but also for your progress and because I really appreciate you, both as a student and as a friend."

My first instinct is to hug her. She laughs and returns the embrace. She then hands me my gift, and I take my time opening it. I feel like a little girl. The only gift I've received is the pendant from Mapi. My grandparents and my mom preferred to give me money since they don't necessarily know what I need. They'd rather I buy something I like than waste their money on something I might not use. I'm stunned when I see the ring. Not just any ring... the one I was looking at in the jewelry store. I don't even know how she knew it was the one. The price wasn't too steep compared to what a ring can cost, but still. She didn't hesitate to get it.

"You're crazy... How did you know it was the one?"

"You stared at it," she shrugs with a small smile. "Try it on to see if I got the right size. Otherwise, we'll have to go back together."

I slip it onto my right ring finger. I smile broadly as I extend my hand to admire my new ring, which fits perfectly. I play with it a bit to get used to it since I haven't worn one before. I move closer to Lucy to give her another hug, this time a thank-you hug.

"Thank you, really! I love it!"

"You're welcome. But it's getting late," she says, breaking the hug. "I don't want to make you miss curfew by staying here. We'll see each other tomorrow morning anyway."

"Will you check on us?"

"Of course, let's not break our habits."

"How long will you be my supervisor? I mean, I've calmed down, haven't I?"

I ask her as she closes the trunk. She locks her car before answering.

« Wiegman still thinks you're rebellious in class, and your frequent tardiness and poor grades haven't helped you much. I'll probably stay your supervisor for a little longer, maybe a month, or maybe less. It depends on how things go."

"So I should cause trouble to keep you as my supervisor?"

"I forbid you from doing that," she frowns. "You'll always have to deal with me, no matter what."

"Yeah, but others will be allowed to intervene."

"They know you're only going to listen to me, so don't worry about that."

I laugh, remembering the day Bright tried to deal with me. I had brushed her off without remorse, saying it wasn't her place. Sh was furious. I was lucky Lucy came along in time; otherwise, the situation would have escalated. We stop when we reach the spot between the two dormitories.

"Keep behaving well. You have your class council this week, and it's important. The comments count just as much as the grades for your wishes."

"I'm in deep trouble."

"Don't be so pessimistic, everything will be fine. Now go to bed, we'll meet tomorrow."

"Thanks for everything, Luce..." I say, playing with my ring. "Good night..."

"Good night, Ona."

I smile when she ruffles my hair before heading to her dorm. I watch her go inside before circling the building to reach the main entrance. I quickly make my way to my room, where Amexia is already in bed. At least I won't have to answer her questions. I grab some pajamas from my suitcase and head to the shower. I'll unpack tomorrow, given the late hour. When I finish showering, I go straight to bed. I'm so exhausted from the past few days that I fall asleep with no trouble at all.