#and it’s not even about money it’s about how everyone looks past her to focus on the other girls

[hamable]

Tangle Tower spoiler

Thinking back on my playthrough of Tangle Tower and how Penny went after the 5 family members bc she was desperate for a common cause only to find that no, they just left, and yeah I can see how that’s upsetting and a tipping point to someone already not in a good place…

And then realizing that 2 of those five were her parents. That she went searching for them at 19. That they left her at Tangle Tower as a child. Looking for beetles and shit.

Yeah I’d feel murderous too.

Edit: after looking at her family tree, only one of the five from the photo was Pen’s parent (Pandora Pointer. Her dad Buck Braxley might have gone with her, or could be dead, I don’t remember. Either way, he’s not at Tangle Tower present day)

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 4

Word Count- 3.1k

Warnings- Swearing, spoilers obi.

My fingers graze the texture of my history textbook. My eyes read through each line. Before I know it I’m at the end of the page, and yet I can’t recall a single sentence I had just “read.” I let out a loud sigh and closed the book, placing it back in place on my desk. Ever since the day I got kidnapped this has been a problem. Without being on edge, I can’t focus on school work, the people around me, or myself. Every time I walk by someone I instantly tense up to the idea of them being something supernatural. I know that Elena has told me everyone in town that she knows is a part of that world but she can’t possibly know when a complete stranger is. 

Worrying about who is supernatural isn’t the only thing that’s been plaguing my thoughts, either. All night I was tossing and turning with the thought of Elijah. Damon and Elena knew as much as I did about how he was still alive. Elena had told me that a vampire could be killed with a wooden stake, and yet it had only affected Elijah temporarily. 

“He’s going to destroy you.”

Kathrine’s words ring in my ears. Stefan had told me not to believe a word she says, but given that these people don’t seem to know what the hell is going on either, I’ve let her words get to me. The look of fear in her eyes at the thought strikes me to my core every time I think back to it. If a vampire that is magically locked up is afraid of this Elijah guy, then I sure as hell will be too. 

I jump slightly in shock as I hear knocking on my door, I untense when I hear my mother’s voice on the other side though. 

“Y/N, you have a friend here to see you,” I stand up and open my door to talk to her but freeze when I see Damon standing behind her. His lips curve up into a smirk and moves his fingers up and down in a wave as he stares at me.

“Your friend Damon here is so kind to drop in to check on you. I had no idea you were feeling under the weather.” 

I glance at my mother and fight the urge to roll my eyes. Although we look so much alike I couldn’t be more different from her. Where I actually take the time to listen to people and try to understand people my mother seems to only care about what benefits her. I’m not surprised at all that she hasn’t noticed my change in attitude these past few days since she never seemed to care before. 

She clears her throat at the silence she gets from me, “Well, I’ll let you talk. I have to be going anyways,” She turns to Damon who fakes a smile at her, “I have a work trip this weekend.”

“Work on the weekends, well that’s no fun,” Damon responds with a flirtatious tone that makes me want to gag. My mother on the other hand turns red.

“No worries, I always find a way to liven things up,” She leans closer to him, “Even though it would be more fun with some company.”

“Mom, you should be going now,” I interrupt before I throw up on both of them. 

My mother nods and says her goodbyes to both of us, mostly Damon, and walks back down the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief but then tense up when I realized that Damon had just entered my room.

“What are you doing here,” I watch as he looks around my small room. After my mother and father’s divorce, my mother wasn’t left with very much money so we had to make do with what we could scrounge up. After moving and divorce costs we left with a tiny 3 bedroom 1 bath single story home here in Mystic Falls. It looks like a shoe box compared to the other houses in this town, but I don’t really care since I plan to move away from here the second I graduate. 

“I need a favor,” Damon says to me as he picks up the stuffed frog I have on my bed and tosses it around in his hands. 

“What kind of favor?”

Damon places the frog back on my bed, “Well, after your and Elena’s little suicide excursion yesterday we’ve magically locked her in her house, and I need you Pukerella to go babysit.” 

I send him a glare at the nickname, “If Elena’s locked in her house why do you need me to babysit her?”

Damon rolls his shoulders and walks towards the door, “I don’t need you to do anything. I want you to go to Elena’s and let me know if she plans on calling the big bad vampire to come sacrifice her.” 

“So you want me to be your spy?”

Damon thinks at the question for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “Ya, pretty much.���

I shake my head, “I’m not going to spy on my only friend.”

Damon lets out an annoyed groan and pinches the bridge of his nose as if this is the most annoying conversation he’s had, “Fine then you won’t be my spy, you’ll be the babysitter I hired for Elena. There happy? Now come on I got other stuff to do today other than arguing with you, people to go kill and stuff like that you know?”

Damon grabs me by my upper arm and practically drags me out of my room and down the hallway toward the front door. He ignores my yells of anger as he opens the door to his car and pretty much pushes me in. I huff as he speeds over to his side and starts the car.

“Oh and by the way,” I slowly turn my head to glare at him as he starts talking, “You might want to get some vervain for yourself and your family. It was too easy getting your mother to invite me into your quaint home.” 

—-

“We could watch Pretty Woman?” Elena asks Jeremy and I as we sit on the couch. Jeremy lets out a loud groan at the question making Elena laugh.

“Guess not,” She flips through some more channels before she lets out a sound of excitement, “Oh! Grease!” Elena goes to play the movie but Jeremy snatches the remote from her hand.

“No way, not happening. I have seen that movie far too many times because of you and Mom. I’m going to decide.”

It takes Jeremy another 10 minutes to scroll through the channels deciding on a movie. Every time he picks one Elena disagrees and they start arguing over it until they start searching again. This has pretty much been what we’ve been doing for the whole hour in which I’ve been at the Gilbert residence. After Damon kicked me out of his car and drove off I’ve just been listening to the Gilbert siblings argue. It’s not that bad though. Jenna, Jeremy and Elena’s aunt, supplied us with snacks a bunch of snacks before she had to leave for something she had to go do.

“Aha!”

I turn to the TV to see what Jeremy picked and cringe as I see the beginning credits for “The Human Centipede.”

Elena’s sound of disgust mirrors mine as she stands up, “This is no use. Y/N do you just want to go up to my room?” 

I glance at the TV again momentarily and nod my head, “Defiantly.”

—

“You’ve got to read this book I just got,” Elena jumps up from her spot on the floor next to me and goes to her bookshelf, “The romance in it is so steamy and the main male character in it is so hot!” She stops and blushes at what she just said.

“Don’t tell Stefan,” She points at me.

I laugh as I bring my fingers to my lips and pretend to lock them, “You’re secret is safe with me.”

Elena and I had been making small talk until I had mentioned that I liked reading, which caught her attention. She had told me she does too and we began talking about our favorite books and genres. To which we found out we’re both fans of romance, jumpstarting an hour-long discussion. 

Elena sits back down next to me and hands me her book. I strum through the pages.

“I’ll make sure to read it and let you know what I think.”

She nods and looks away as if in thought, “I can’t believe we didn’t become friends earlier. Why is that?” 

Her question has me stirring uncomfortably, “Honestly I’m not that surprised. I’m not that noticeable.” 

This comment has Elena furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head, “You’re joking right,” At my look of confusion she continues, “Of course I noticed you. I mean when you come to a small town like this it’s hard not to be noticed but what I mean is that I always thought you were cool.”

I can feel my cheeks warm up at her compliment and I glance down at my fingers to hide it.

“You thought I was cool?”

“Ya of course,” She responds instantly, “You’ve got great style and you’ve got this mysterious aura about you. I just never approached you because I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Her confession has me looking up and frowning, “Why would you think that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You just kind of sometimes look like you don’t want to be approached by anyone. I just assumed. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head at her apology, “Don’t apologize! And no, I never hated you I always thought you were the cool one. I just think I have that look on my face all the time.”

Elena laughs and smiles at me, “OK, good.”

“Good.”

We’re about to start talking about books again when we hear the front door open.

“Jenna must be home,” Elena says as she stands up and reaches her hand down for me to grab. I grab it and pull myself up and we walk downstairs. 

We turn the corner and we both give each other a look as we see Jenna on the ground rummaging through some boxes. 

“Hey. What are you doing,” Elena questions her Aunt.

“Oh perfect timing,” She grabs a cardboard box and hands it to Elena, and then gives another to me.

“Whoa. Oh. What is this stuff?”

“Your mom’s files from the historical society. I got roped into helping Mrs. Lockwood,” Jenna grabs her box and stands up, “And by roped, I mean very excited to participate.”

I silently laugh as I try to balance the heavy box in my arms, the laughing stops though once Jenna closes the door and I lock eyes with the man who’s been haunting my every waking thought. 

“Hey, I’m Elijah.”

Elena and I stand there frozen as we watch Jenna interact with the vampire. 

“Elijah’s in town doing research on Mystic Falls,” She introduces us not knowing we’ve already had the displeasure of meeting. 

I freeze up and grip the box I’m holding tighter to my chest as Elijah walks closer to us. He quickly greets Elena, skating her hand before turning his full attention onto me. I’m visibly shaking right now and it only worsens as Elijah reaches his hands up and grabs the box from my hands. His fingers grazed mine for longer than needed. 

“Here let me take this,” He places the box back down and reaches his hand up to me in greeting. 

We both stand there looking at each other for what seems like forever as he waits for me to shake his hand.

“I don’t like being touched,” I blurt out. Elijah slowly lowers his hand and I might be mistaken but from the look on his face, he almost appeared saddened by that. 

Jenna joins us again telling Elijah that he can stay here and rummage through the boxes, to which he turns down. I try to find the wall behind Elena interesting to keep my line of sight away from the vampire, but I can still sense him staring at me. After another moment he tells Jenna he’s going to have someone pick up the boxes tomorrow and bids Jenna and Elena a farewell. I almost think he’s left us but when I look back over I find that Elijah has moved even closer and he gives me a warm smile and leans down.

“I hope to speak with you again soon, Miss Y/L/N.” My chest starts moving up and down rapidly, which he seems to have noticed, as I nod at his words. He doesn’t seem to get that I won’t be saying anything back to him because he stands there staring at my face. After what seems like a lifetime I watch as he moves by me towards the front door, but not before he lifts a finger and grazes the end of my sweater. 

I watch with bated breath as he shuts the door behind him. Elena doesn’t waste any time before dragging me up the stairs and banging on Jeremy’s door. As she goes to open the door I feel a hand grab my waist and pull me. My back hits something strong and I go to squeal but it comes out muffled as a hand moves over my mouth. I look up and freeze as I stare up at Elena to whom he motions to be quiet. I hear Jeremy open his door but I can’t focus on any of the words he’s saying as I watch Elijah’s face. I make note of the light stubble that runs across his jawline and the practically flawless skin he has. Lucky ass vampires. My staring must’ve caught his attention, as his dark brown eyes meet mine. Once again the corners of his lips turn upwards into a small smile as he watches me watch him. 

Jeremy walking by us catches my attention and Elijah drops the hand from my mouth, but not before leaning down, and what I could’ve sworn was sniffing my hair. Elena quickly grabs my hand and pulls me away from Elijah and for a second I almost feel annoyed at this. Clearly not as annoyed as Elijah though was lets out a snarl, making Elena go rigid. 

“What do you want?”

Elijah composes himself once, “I think it’s time we three at a little chat.”

—-

“Forgive the intrusion. I mean your family no harm,” Elijah tells Elena as he walks around her room.

“Why did you kill those vampires when they tried to take me,” Elena questions him as she comes to sit down next to me on her bed. 

“Because I didn’t want you to be taken,” Elijah says confusing both Elena and I, “Klaus is the most feared and hated of the Originals but those who fear him are desperate for his approval. If word gets out that the doppelganger exists there’ll be a line of vampires eager to take you to him and I can’t have that.”

A cold feeling runs up and down my spine at the mention of Klaus. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do,” Elena questions him again. 

“Let’s just say that my goal is not to break the curse.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the confession. Elijah looks at Elena and then brings his eyes towards me for a moment before turning back to Elena as she begins speaking. 

“So what is your goal?”

“Klaus’ obsessions have made in paranoid. He’s a recluse. He trusts only those in his immediate circle.”

“Like you?”

“Not anymore.”

“An old ass paranoid vampire, how much better could this be,” I whisper out loud to myself sarcastically. I look up and see Elijah looking at me with a small smirk on his face as he must’ve heard my comment. 

“You don’t know where he is do you,” Elena questions but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from me, “So you’re trying to use me to draw him out.” 

Elijah lets out a sigh as he turns his attention back towards my friend, “Well, to do that I need you to stay put and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

He gives her a smile and I have to stop myself from smiling at it. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, if I wasn’t being truthful, all your family would be dead and I’d be taking you to Klaus right now. Instead… I’m here and I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”

And the smile was instantly gone. 

This grabs Elena’s attention, “What kind of a deal?”

Elijah stands up and starts walking around, “Do nothing. Do nothing, live your life, stop fighting. And then, when the time is right, you and I shall draw Klaus out together and I shall make certain that your friends remain unharmed.”

“And then what?”

“Then I kill him.”

“Just like that?”

Elijah smirks at her, “Just like that. I’m a man of my word, Elena. I make a deal, I keep a deal.”

“How are you going to be able to keep everybody safe?”

“You know, I notice you have a friend, Bonnie, is it? She seems to possess the gift of magic. I have friends with similar gifts.”

“You know witches.” Elena nods her head to which I fight the urge to say “duh” to. This guy is oldddd, of course, he knows witches. 

“Together we can protect everybody that matters to you.” 

I watch silently as Elijah walks over to Elena and reaches his hand out for her to shake, “So do we have a deal?”

“As long as you keep my friends safe,” Elena looks over to me, “Y/N is one of those friends.” 

Elijah looks over to me and smirks, “Trust me deal or no deal. No one will be laying a finger on Y/N. That I give you my word on.”

I fidget under his intense stare.  

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Elijah turns back to face Elena with an incredulous look, “We’re negotiating now?”

Elena tells Elijah she’ll accept his deal if he gets his witches to free Stefan from some vampire tomb he’s been trapped in. Why has no one told me this yet? Elijah reluctantly agrees and they shake hands, cementing their deal. With one last glance toward me, Elijah nods his head and speeds away. 

Elena and I both let out shaking breaths as we stared at each other. 

“Any chance you want to spend the night,” Elena asks me hopefully with a sheepish look.

I nod my head quickly, “My mom is out of town and my brother’s at a sleepover. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that empty house tonight.” 

[gemviews]

[   RAFE CAMERON  ]         ―         OH , LITTLE MISS KOOK PRINCESS !   ━━━ PART ONE !

pairing: kook princess!black fem!reader x postseason3!rafe cameron.

summary: another party at the country club—one of your favorite spots to frequent. rafe, as usual, is there too, but this time, he’s fed up. your attitude, the one you always throw his way whenever you cross paths, has finally worn thin. but something’s different tonight. the usual playful banter between you two stops abruptly, and it pisses you off more than you care to admit. little by little, you start realizing it’s not just silence—it’s a game, and without even knowing it, you’re slowly playing right into rafe’s hands.

warnings: just pure sexual tension from rafe, craved attention from the reader. bratty x ignoring asshole.

"he’s with his coke whores again," y/n muttered, grimacing as she swirled the crystal tumbler filled with tequila and a hint of orange juice.

her two-toned, glossed lips parted slightly as she brought the thin black straw to her mouth. rafe hadn't even glanced her way after stepping into the island club, his focus elsewhere as he strode past her at the bar without so much as a nod. she had glared at him, and he had seen it—but chose to ignore her.

he did it on purpose.

now, rafe was lounging in the open seating area, his laughter echoing across the room as the usual crowd of kooks girls fawned over him, each one desperate for his attention.

they gathered around him, preening and giggling, all except y/n—the one girl who hadn’t fallen at his feet the moment she arrived in the outer banks.

that defiance had earned her the nickname "kook princess," a title once reserved for his sister, sarah cameron, before her relationship with john b. routledge became public knowledge in figure eight.

y/n, however, never seemed to care about the label, though she certainly lived up to it. her grace, her effortless elegance, and most of all, her humility—it was almost as if she hadn’t come from money at all.

and that’s exactly what infuriated rafe. how could the so-called "princess" be so kind to everyone else, yet reserve all her icy indifference for him? he wasn’t used to women turning away when he spoke to them, let alone ignoring him entirely. it gnawed at him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

rafe could feel the icy glare from y/n long before he turned his head in her direction. when he finally looked at her across the room, her bare back was to him, her posture tense, almost defiant.

what began as a passing glance quickly turned into a locked stare.

after downing her tequila sunrise, y/n moved away from the bar and drifted toward the catering area. she picked up a small slice of tiramisu, her fingers delicately wielding a plastic fork as she cut into the cake and brought a bite to her lips. she slid the fork into her mouth slowly, savoring the taste.

in rafe’s eyes, everything unfolded in slow motion. his gaze followed the curve of her toned brown legs, up to where her skinny heels wrapped around her ankles. the light pink dress she wore flared just above her thighs, its puffy hem contrasting with the way the fabric hugged her slim waist. the dress dipped low in the back, held up by thin straps—straps rafe wanted to slip off her shoulders so badly.

as y/n licked the frosting from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, rafe’s breath hitched. every bratty remark that left her mouth only made him angrier, but god, how he wanted that mouth on him.

“rafe?” one of the girls’ voices broke through the haze, snapping him out of his daze. she held up a small ziplock bag filled with a white, powdery substance, grinning. “wanna turn this club up?” she asked, her smirk full of suggestion.

surprisingly, rafe had been sober for two weeks. he sucked his teeth, battling the familiar itch crawling up his spine before waving off the offer. “not tonight,” he muttered, excusing himself from the group with a forced smile.

meanwhile, y/n, having noticed him staring earlier, mentally rolled her eyes. with unnecessary force, she stabbed her fork into the middle of the tiramisu, leaving the plate behind on the catering table before spinning around with attitude, as if anticipating rafe’s approach. she knew he was creeping closer, just like always.

there he was. rafe wore that same cocky smirk she’d always wanted to slap off his face. “nice dress,” he teased, letting his fingers graze the puffy hem of her dress. “didn’t know you were attending an elementary school graduation.”

before he could pull away, y/n swatted his hand, her glare sharp enough to cut. “oh, mr. cameron,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “shouldn’t you be on your third line of coke by now? or are we saving the overdose for later?”

rafe’s jaw clenched at her words, his jawline sharpening as he swallowed down the sting of her remark. she always knew exactly where to hit, and he hated how much it got to him. “okay, princess,” he bit out, the usual arrogance in his tone replaced with something heavier, something resigned.

y/n’s perfectly arched brows furrowed in confusion. usually, rafe would fire back with something about her mother marrying into money or call her a skank in front of everyone. but this? this felt different. and for a moment, it threw her off her game.

her eyes darted around him, tracking his every movement as the tall frame of his body loomed over her, casting a shadow that seemed to shrink the space between them.

without breaking eye contact, rafe reached behind y/n, effortlessly grabbing the tiramisu she had abandoned on the table. the subtle scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne filled the air as he leaned in closer, brushing the edge of her personal space.

despite the intimidating stance he held, y/n refused to back down. “okay, princess?” she repeated, her voice laced with a dry laugh.

“don’t tell me you’re getting tired of me already,” she teased, her eyes glinting with challenge.

rafe responded with a low, sarcastic laugh, running a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. before y/n could brace herself, he did something unexpected—he picked up the tiramisu she had been eating, calmly cutting off another piece with the fork and taking a bite from the very same utensil she had used. his eyes never left hers as he chewed, the audacity of it all catching her completely off guard.

she couldn’t believe it. rafe was deliberately toying with her. he had gone from ignoring her to refusing to engage in their usual back-and-forth, and now this? he was pushing her buttons, and it was clear what he wanted.

he wasn’t just teasing her—he wanted her to crave the attention he was withholding. he was determined to make her fall at his feet, and he wasn’t going to stop until she did.

“tired of the kook princess? hm, never.” rafe smirked as he set down the plate after indulging in her tiramisu. “that’s good tiramisu. you should finish it.”

he turned as if to leave, but stopped just beside her, his presence lingering like a shadow. her tightly curled bundles cascaded down her back, and without hesitation, rafe reached out to push a strand away, his fingers lightly grazing her skin. he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

“this little thing? it’s done. so watch your mouth from now on,” he whispered, his voice low and edged with warning, before casually strolling away, hands slipping into the pockets of his tailored slacks.

y/n stood frozen, the warmth of his body still lingering in the space he left behind. her gaze flickered from the half-eaten tiramisu to rafe’s retreating figure, watching as he effortlessly melted into the crowd of the country club.

she scoffed under her breath, momentarily dumbfounded. had that been a genuine threat? she couldn’t be sure, but something about his tone lingered in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn’t ignore.

one thing was clear—y/n didn’t know what game rafe was playing, but if he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong. whatever this was, she was determined to come out on top.

y/n felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her, even though only a few familiar eyes were watching. she needed to escape, to find a moment alone to process what had just happened. her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor of the country club as she made her way back toward the entrance.

motioning to one of the staff, she requested her coat. the luxurious white mink slipped over her shoulders effortlessly, providing a brief shield against the chilly evening air that greeted her as she stepped outside.

her reliable mercedes benz was in the shop yet again, leaving her with no choice but to summon ubers one after another. not exactly fitting for the kook princess, was it?

standing on the concrete sidewalk, she forced polite smiles at the members passing by, whether they were arriving or departing. “where the hell is this ride?” y/n muttered to herself, tapping her phone screen impatiently as she checked the app for updates.

as the minutes dragged on, the unmistakable roar of a high-powered motorcycle engine filled the air. without even looking, she knew who it was.

there he was—the same buzz-cut brown atop a sleek black motorcycle, his arms flexing beneath the fitted v-neck polo he wore. a small gold chain glinted against his exposed collarbone.

he pulled off his tinted helmet, revealing the all-too-familiar smirk. what other kook would ride dangerously on a motorcycle if not rafe freaking cameron?

“c’mon,” rafe said, his tone short and demanding.

y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned her gaze back to the parking lot, hoping her uber would appear at that very moment. the last thing she wanted was to be roped into another one of his games.

“i wasn’t asking. get on.” rafe’s blue eyes bore into y/n, an unwavering intensity that made her heart race. still feeling bratty, she tossed her clutch at him, expecting him to catch it. slipping her phone into the pocket of her mink coat, she grabbed the helmet, fitting it onto her head with a huff.

with a cautious movement, y/n swung her leg over the seat behind rafe, settling down but keeping her hands stubbornly behind her. she refused to wrap them around him, even as the tension hung in the air.

rafe noticed her defiance, shaking his head with a low chuckle. he tossed the clutch aside, watching it sail into the parking lot, where it probably hit a nearby car. y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief. “you asshole! what the hell is your problem?”

she contemplated jumping off the bike, but before she could voice her anger, rafe revved the engine. he gripped the handlebars firmly, pulling back on the throttle as the motorcycle roared to life. y/n let out a startled yelp as they shot forward, the rush of speed immediately silencing her.

as they sped out of the country club parking lot, her arms instinctively wrapped around him, clinging tightly. rafe couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly she capitulated.

“you have plenty at home. now be quiet, princess,” he teased, the thrill of the ride clearly delighting him.

“you’re a fucking psychopath! i want to get off!” y/n shouted over the roar of the engine as rafe swerved recklessly around cars, earning angry honks from irritated drivers. he ignored her, as usual, pushing her closer to the edge of her patience—and sanity.

y/n whimpered, her plump lips trembling as her arms tightened around him out of sheer fear. she hated motorcycles, and the way rafe was handling his made the experience unbearable.

rafe noticed the shift. her sharp remarks had faded into silence, replaced by the desperate grip around his torso. he felt the weight of the helmet pressing against his back, a clear sign that she had softened—fear had taken over. surprisingly, he didn’t want her like that, so he eased off, slowing down to drive more like a regular civilian under the night sky.

the rest of the ride around figure eight, leading to the y/l/n estate, was quiet. no more banter, no biting remarks from y/n. for once, the tension between them was replaced with an uneasy calm.

but deep down, he knew better. y/n wasn’t scared enough to lose her fire. the craving for attention still lingered beneath the surface—he could feel it. she just needed a moment to catch her breath.

rafe steered through the iron gates as y/n punched in the code, guiding the motorcycle up the long, empty driveway. her parents weren’t home—when were they ever? y/n exhaled in relief, grateful to have survived the wild ride back.

“ugh,” she muttered under her breath in mock disgust, realizing her head was still resting against rafe’s back as the bike came to a full stop right at the granite doorstep.

with a soft sigh, she straightened herself, pulling off the helmet and running her perfectly manicured fingers through her bundles to smooth out any potential frizz. “thanks,” she said, her voice quiet, almost as if the word was dragged out of her unwillingly.

rafe glanced over his shoulder, his fingers idly playing with the gold rings that adorned his slender hands. his eyes followed her carefully as she swung her leg over the motorcycle to stand, nearly catching a glimpse of the delicate white lace panties peeking beneath her dress. he quickly turned his head away, pretending not to notice the fabric, but a sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"you like white, rafe?" y/n teased, catching his gaze the second he turned away, having been caught in the act of sneaking a glance.

the sly smile faded from his lips, replaced by a casual shrug. "depends on who's wearing it," he retorted smoothly.

y/n smirked, shoving the helmet into his arms as she stepped closer. "so, me," she answered for him, her confidence palpable.

this time, it was rafe who had to look up. y/n leaned against the bike's handle, the scent of her signature ysl perfume swirling around him, intoxicating. his eyes trailed down to her chest, noticing how her breasts were perfectly pushed up beneath the fabric of her dress. finally, his gaze lifted to meet hers-soft, inviting, and utterly captivating.

for a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind-he could take her right there, out in the open, letting the entire gated community witness that rafe cameron had finally tasted the kook princess. while others begged for her, here she was, close enough for him to claim.

pushing aside his exotic thoughts, rafe smirked. “in your dreams, princess,” he shot back, effortlessly dismissing the confidence y/n was radiating. her lips twisted into a soft pout.

that face—that fucking pouty look—it was driving rafe into a mental spiral. the image of her beneath him with that exact expression was quickly taking over his mind, clouding his resolve.

y/n began to think that maybe he was serious about withholding his attention, but she had no idea—this was exactly what rafe wanted. he wanted her to crave it, to realize that he wouldn’t make it easy for her. she’d have to earn it, and he was going to make sure she knew just how hard that would be.

y/n refused to let her ego show any cracks. turning on her heel, her heels echoed loudly against the grand staircase leading up to the entrance.

“you owe me a new clutch, cameron!” she called out over her shoulder, before swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind her. in a final act of defiance, she flicked off the exterior lights, leaving rafe standing in the darkness of the driveway.

rafe ran a hand down his face, stifling a groan as he glanced down, noticing his helmet conveniently hiding the growing bulge in his slacks.

he needed to hurry—taking down little miss kook princess was becoming more urgent than ever.

part two coming soon — comment to be in included in the taglist!

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Tainted Past

Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader

A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')

Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.

Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,

"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."

"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."

"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.

"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.

"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.

"What?"

"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.

Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.

She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.

"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.

"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.

The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.

"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.

"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.

"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."

"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.

"I'm assuming you would need my name-"

"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."

Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...

Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.

Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.

"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.

As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.

Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...

ᗢ----------ᗢ

Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.

I just wanted to buy some ramen...

He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.

"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.

He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.

"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.

"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"

"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.

"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"

"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.

"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-

They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-

"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.

"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.

As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-

"There you are!"

A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.

"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."

Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"

"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"

Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?

"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."

"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.

"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.

"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.

"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."

Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.

"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??

"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-

"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!

Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...

---

For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.

He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...

Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.

So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.

Eugh...

It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.

"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."

"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.

"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."

Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.

"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."

"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.

Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."

"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"

"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."

"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget..."

"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."

He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.

"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."

ᗢ----------ᗢ

I am one mad son of a bitch.

They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-

"I'll be right there!"

Fuck!

Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."

Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"

They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.

The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...

"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.

Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.

And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.

"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.

If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.

"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"

Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."

It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."

"I love the Beatles."

"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.

She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.

Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.

The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"

They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."

Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-

Why am I thinking about her like this?

"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.

"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."

The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.

"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.

"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.

Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.

Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."

"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"

Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.

"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."

She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"

"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.

She's so cute when she laughs.

"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"

"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.

She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."

"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"

The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.

Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.

Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.

The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.

Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.

They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.

"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.

"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."

"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."

"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.

"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!

Smut next chapter homie? 👀

[ayeyolooo]

DRIFT

PLEASE READ THE WARNING BEFOFE INTERACTING WITH THE STORY!

Warning! Y/n is black!! I write for black readers if you didn’t know already. But anyone can feel free to read this! Connie and eren are Hispanic, and me not knowing how to speak Spanish like at alll unfortunately I have to use the translator💔. Please bare with with y’all😭. There will be an oc :) oh and please excuse my grammatical errors! <3

“Y/n will you be able to come to this race? Cause we don’t have a fourth.” Your friend begged you over the phone. “Kasa, you know ion race no more like that.” You said laying your edges down. Even though you were saying all of this, you were getting ready so that you could race.

“But y/n please please please please.” You just sighed. “Fine.” You said with a giggle. “Yayy omg when you come I’m going to literally kiss you everywhere.” She said as wind blew having the phone make noise on mikasa’z end. “Okay just call me when you get here y/n.” Mikasa said before handing up. You just sighed as you grabbed your purse and walked out the house. You checked and made sure that you had your cash on you cause you had to pay to enter a race.

You unlocked the door and walked up to your purple sports car. It was a little on the older side but that’s what made it unique and exciting. You dragged your hand across the door as you opened it and sat down in the car. You began to pray before you drove off and to the race site.

“Whew.” You sighed before pulling up. When you pulled up no one could see who you were due to your tents being dark. Your engine roared catching the attention of the other racers. Mikasa turned around quickly knowing that you were there because she knew the sound of your car. She and Sasha squealed and jumped up and down with eachother before walking over to your car.

“Kasa who is that?” Jean asked as mikasa opened your door. “One of my friends what will be the fourth today.” She simply said with a large smile on her face.

“Se van a avergonzar.” Connie said with a snort. You just smiled and ran your tongue across your teeth. Eren, ony, and armin all just laughed.

They’re going to embarrass themselves.

“Would you like to show them whose driving?” Mikasa said as she leaned over your car. “Nahhh.” You said shaking your head and smiling revealing your smiley piercing. “Okay we’ll good luck y/n.” Mikasa said taking the was of cash from your hands and pecking your cheek. She closed your door back and walked over to the boys to collect their money too.

“Bru he driving that girl ahh car. How they gone win?” Connie cackled. “Choke.” Mikasa said before taking his money. “When we beat them mikasa you gone have to give us our money back plus $1,000.” Mikasa shrugged. “Mmhm yeah that’s if y’all win.” She said nonchalantly. “Whatchu mean by that?” Mikasa just shrugged.

“When she beat y’all don’t come crying to me,cause y’all was doing all of that talking.” Mikasa shrugged and walked back to the little booth. “SHE!?” All of the boys asked in confusion. They all looked over to your car trying to get s glimpse of how you looked hut couldn’t due to your tents. “READY!” Your adrenaline began to pump. You forgot how good it felt when you were about to race.” You pressed your foot on the gas reviving your engine. You turned on your radio having TBH by party next door come to and end and welcome to the party, by party next door started playing.

The bass from the music blasted in your speakers having your seat vibrate and you just smiled at this exciting moment.

You smiled at the sounds of the other cars. “SET!” You rolled your windows down as you just kept your focus on the road ahead of you. You felt eyes starring at you on the right side of your face. They seen your beautiful brown skin and your red lace wig that complimented your skin.

“GO!” Everyone took off. You turned your music up loud as you smoothly drove past three cars. You were in second place, being that the one with E.Y on the back of his car was in the front. Hm..

There was a turn incoming you stepped on the break and grabbed the clutch having a smooth drift. Due to eren having a slight mess up you flew infront of him. You went around the track two more times before crossing the finish line, having eren after you, and ony after.

You just got out leaning on your car waiting for everyone to finish. Mikasa walked up to you and the both of you smiled and she squealed. “You did yo shit once and againnnnn.” Mikasa said as the both of you laughed. “Yk I had to show out for my gurl.” You said winking at her.

This was sitting in my drafts for a while 💀. Anyways Jesus loves you ml <3

[luc1dvisual]

I JUST CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU - lucid dream (aespa

AESPA OT4 AS LOVE LANGUAGES (giving)

Karina - Words of Affirmation

she can do all the love languages but the strongest one is words of affirmation

bro got the biggest praise kink no joke

she loves to see you act shy about the compliments she gives you

In public, she would compliment about superficial things like your hair and the way you dressed

At worst, she would have suggestive undertones to it and give a small smirk

But in private… girl cannot stop talking

She acts introverted when you guys first meet but now she can’t stop talking

She can’t stop telling you how much she loves you and how much you mean to her

It’s so important to her that you know how loved and how amazing you are

especially if you guys started as friends/groupmate omg

you wouldn’t notice but her compliments would get more frequent/more heart-felt as her crush got bigger

at first, the members were a bit jealous but then they realised why.. which made them tease you everytime she would compliment you with a deeper meaning

Giselle - Gift-Giving

She isn’t the best with her words so the best she can do is giving you expensive gifts

That idol money being put to work but she couldn’t think of any other way she would want to spend it more than on you

her favourite things to give are your favourite food or even your favourite perfume

she starts to even eat that certain food more/knows when she smells that perfume, your near

she stalks your social media to find out what you like and goes on a wild chase trying to buy it, no matter the cost

if you started as her friend/groupmate, everyone would be so confused on why you were walking around with a diamond necklace randomly

she would also get matching jewelry as well to signal you were hers

Winter - Physical Touch

winter is not too good with her words either but her body language is more telling

it’s not just physically touching you but she would also do silent acts of service

she loves to give you kisses and likes to watch you squirm when she kisses you in sensitive places

she loves to hug you and bury her small head into your chest or into the crook of your neck

she holds onto your arm and stands semi-behind you if she is nervous or she gives your arm a squeeze if your joking around

she also does this weird yet adorable thing where she bites your shoulder blade

not even hardly, just a little nibble

she looks up at you to look for you reaction, hoping you don’t react badly, almost looking up for validation

at first, you were a bit startled because she bit hardly but the more she did it, you got more used to it and the more softly she would bite

she would always try her hardest to stand next to you during photoshoots, sitting next to you during interviews or lives and even walk next to you at the airport

fans just act like it’s a cute friendship but little do they know it’s sm more..

Ningning - Quality Time/Acts of Service

she loves to take care of you and spend time with you

she loves to pamper you and just talk to you

during breaks, she would book out her schedule just to go places with you (and most of the time just you)

she enjoys spending time with her other members but spending time with you is just more enjoyable

she always dreams of taking you to her family in China and loves to tell you stories from back home

when your sick, she cannot think or focus on anything else but you

she buys you every medicine she can find and makes you a feast of warm food

she gets so worried when you get very sick and goes into a state where she is always on edge

she holds you close and tells you that you will be okay (even if she gets sick herself due to close proximity)

she loves to take you sight-seeing whenever on tour and even gets in trouble if you guys are not back past curfew

note . . .

first time ever doing headcanons, i remember reading gg kpop hcs and just thinking how much fun it must be to write (it is!!) remember requests are still open and i am open to almost anything!

navigation: kpop masterlist , aespa masterlist

[princesssmars]

holly jolly!

an abby anderson x reader based on my abby winter drabble !

wc : 15.718

contains : fluff, angst and smut . fxf relationship. fem!reader. switch! abby and reader. oral and penetrative sex. strap-on yippee. past abby x owen ewwww. owen hate bc i hate him and its funny. reader is a skier and abby does hockey! shitty dad for reader sorry girls. slight alcoholism sorry girls again. the reader is described as slightly tall i know yall been wanting taller readers. reader is kind of bitchy and abby loves it my fave dynamic (dynamic and pretty much the rest inspired by the little ruse go read it).

a/n : sorry i never got over my drabble guys. i dont know who exactly made hockey!abby but ive read em all so big creds to @angelkissiies @millersaurora @whatwouldsylwrite (and @eightstarr for calling abby princess) everyone else smoochies ily <3 made reader a skier because ive been obsessing over the olympics and i watched mollys game and thought it would be cool if i made a skier reader instead of a figure skater. ballerina next time if yall will indulge my delusions.

christmas has always been a bittersweet holiday.

you can remember the good parts from your childhood. picking out your first stocking with your mom. when your younger brother hid in the cupboard to try and catch santa. when your baby brother got cookie dough all over the kitchen, even on the ceiling. or when you were five years old and your dad gifted you your very first pairs of skis.

but it was hard to remember when the bad could get really bad. constant days spent out in the cold and snow, redoing your runs over and over until your legs burned and your back ached. your days that were supposed to be full of vacationing and fun instead filled with aches and falls and countless arguments once you realized you could start talking back.

some of the few friends you've had over the years tried to get you to focus on the good times and not the bad. that dwelling in the past wouldn't help you move forward. when you were younger you'd just call them assholes and move on, but recently it didn't seem worth the effort. that's probably why you started college with no close friends.

it was fine. you had your smarts, which helped you to get a full-ride scholarship when a skiing one fell through after a bad leg injury a few months back. because of that, your mom managed to convince your dad to get off of your ass for a while as you recovered. you had money thanks to your parents and you had your looks which would land you a hookup once in a blue moon.

you'd even made two acquaintances on campus, your roommate, tonya, who was pretty mellow and made sure not to bring the weed she smoked inside your dorm, and a girl named nora in one of your general ed classes whom you would partner up with often.

so yeah. it was fine. at least until the end of your freshman year.

you were running late for your ten am class, sleeping in because tonya had somehow managed to convince you to go to a small party with her last night and take body shots, and then when you were close to being drunk you saw one of your past hookups in the corner who you had dropped for getting way too attached way too quickly, so then you had to quickly find tonya and run back to your dorm-

youre in the middle of remembering ton's bird-like laugh when you nearly faceplanted into your front door when you ran full force into a hulking mass of a body.

the sound of them lightly cursing and asking if you were okay falls on deaf ears as you pick up your bag and hike it to your class, ignoring the stairs of the other students when you rush and plop into your seat.

luckily you manage to get yourself together afterwards, fixing yourself up at your dorm before heading to your next course with nora. as soon as you sit down she's teasing you about a video she saw of you getting wasted last night and you don't even have the energy to entertain her.

"well, instead of getting drunk off your ass again how about you join me tonight? one of my friends is on the hockey team and i got some nice ass tickets."

"c'mon, nora. hockey? seriously?"

"oh, im sorry ms. olympian, is hockey too good for you suddenly? just a bunch of women tossing a puck around too barbaric for you?"

"wait, you didnt say it was women's hockey."

"well, it is."

"..."

"..."

"what time does it start?"

at around five you're putting on a cute sweater and a puffer jacket before joining nora on the campus bus where she tries to quickly explain the rules of hockey to you in the span of five minutes. she asks how on earth you haven't been to one of the games or at least heard of the team's star breakout player. you have to carefully explain that you've had enough of sports to last a lifetime.

the indoor arena is packed, and you have to roughly squeeze and push multiple people out of the way to get by. nora starts laughing and tells you to leave the violence to the players and you brush her off. (for some reason she constantly loves to tease you.) when you both finally sit in your seats, you notice that they're behind the glass where the team players get out onto the ice and sit for breaks. nora suddenly bangs on the glass behind a player wearing an ANDERSON 20 jersey. the girl stands up and turns around and good god.

you weren't the shortest girl yourself, standing a couple inches over most girls you knew, but jesus she was easily almost six feet tall, and big, even if her jersey and gear probably made her look larger which really didn't help you focus. you liked the contrast of it with her face, bright, cute, and red from the cold as she talked to nora through the plexiglass. you were just about to admire the shape of her nose when her slightly unnerving blue eyes turned to you.

"hey, i recognize you!"

your brows pull in a deep scrunch.

"from this morning, you bumped into me and nearly knocked me on my ass."

"oh my god, i had a feeling that was you!" you hear the familiar noise of nora laughing at your pain. "jeez, how drunk did you get last night?"

"would you just- look, im sorry about earlier. i was hungover and rushing to class."

she smiles and shakes her head. "its chill, dont worry about it. nora, are you going to that party at derek's frat after? i swear he was begging me to come but i wasnt too sure."

"abby, everyone asks you to go to their parties and you never do! live a little." nora pauses before wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

you knew she was about to say something to piss you off.

"even little y/n here is gonna come and properly apologize to someone for once. isn't that right, hun?"

great.

"well, that wasn't my plan for tonight. at all." you say before picking up your giant hockey-themed plastic cup and taking a sip, hoping the chill of your slushie numbs out the rest of this conversation.

abby adjusts some of her straps and her helmet before resting her hand on the glass, noticing how the rest of her teammates are getting ready to go out on the ice. "well, i'd really like to see you there. is there any way i could convince you to come?"

"i don't know, is there?"

"how about... when i win, you come to the party with me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard they hurt. leave it to nora to be friends with the walking cliche of an arrogant sports player. you could've been spending this moment in your dorm watching a dumb hallmark movie about a businesswoman falling in love with a farmer while eating chips and drinking a self-indulgent capri sun.

"and if you lose?"

the announcer over the loudspeaker called for the game to start and the players started making their way onto the ice. abby winks at you before turning around and joining the rest of her team.

"trust me, i won't."

you scoffed and flopped back into your hard seat, sucking almost angrily at the bright red straw in your slushie to ignore nora's look.

"are all of your friends that annoying?"

"kind of. thought you'd enjoy it though. birds of a feather."

not bothering to entertain her, you focused on the game that was starting in front of you.

you could understand the basics of the game; one team had to get the puck into the other goal several times until they won. you had a brief understanding of some of the other rules, mostly because your father explained every winter olympic sport to you in great detail when you were twelve. it became so boring at one point that you fell asleep and banged your head on the coffee table, startling the both of you so much he decided to let you go to bed.

but as the game goes on you have to admit that anderson is frighteningly good at what she does. she moves gracefully and quickly on the ice, so well you think to yourself that if she ever tires of hockey she could seriously pursue ice skating, but when an opposing player gets too aggressive with her she returns it with force. she's like an avalanche on skates.

when the game ends you can't tell whether you're shocked or agitated. your team won in what nora called a 'total fucking landslide', the bright 6-1 lighting up the scoreboard like a smack in the face. it felt slightly awkward that everyone around you was yelling and celebrating while you were sitting statue still in your seat.

nora could probably sense your discomfort and gently pulled you up, telling you that the both of you could throw your things away before meeting up with some more friends of hers before heading to the party.

so awesome.

her friends were nice enough, a psychology student named leah and her boyfriend jordan who was some type of biology major. they seemed happy to meet you but happier to make googoo eyes at each other and go to the party, which meant you most likely wouldn't see them again once you got there unless you stumble upon the two in a hallway closet or bathroom. there was also mel, a nursing student who seemed slightly closed off but agreed with you when you mentioned this party would probably be loud and gross. a bunch of athletes celebrating a win is a recipe for disaster.

"finally, the campion herself arrives!" jordan cheers and raises his bag of chips up to abby who's walking up to your group, wearing a simple college sweatshirt and some black sweatpants. for something so basic she makes it look good, and if you didn't have any integrity and weren't pissed off about this party bet thing you'd tell her so. but you are pissed off and still have about half of your integrity, so you keep your mouth shut.

when she bumps into your shoulder with a 'told ya i'd win' you're about to reply with a snarky remark when a tall man with dark blonde hair and another with tanned skin and brown hair come up beside her and raise her up on their shoulders, chanting 'anderson, anderson!' on repeat. you look to nora who just rolls her eyes and tells you that she'll introduce you in the car.

you're all split into two cars, with you riding with the two strange men along with abby and nora. they tell you the guysin the front seats are owen and manny. also that they've all known each other since they were teens which definitely doesn't make you feel like an outsider. but manny keeps trying to joke around with you so you don't feel too awkward which you can appreciate. even if you don't really laugh.

when the car stops at a giant white frat house you arent surprised in the slightest. you were about to prepare yourself for another night of drinking and finding another hookup when abby throws her arm over your shoulder and decides that she likes you enough to spend most of the night by your side.

she walks with you to get drinks and then leaves to go celebrate with some other friends while you sit and nurse your drink for a while. it leaves you some time to think, asking yourself why you're acting like you're trapped here when you could just leave whenever you want, but you don't understand why you don't. maybe it's because you'll use any excuse to have a good reason to drown out your problems with alcohol. or because you're lonely but don't feel like admitting it.

after around half an hour she comes back and sits on one side of you while you talk to nora and joins in. she asks about your major, if you're from seattle, and how you met nora. after a while you stop rolling your shoulders when she asks a new question and settle into conversation with her. and after a few hours you learn more about her too, that her dad is a neurosurgeon and she's following in his footsteps with her pre-med major, but that as soon as she tried hockey she knew she wanted to do it forever. she tells you that she doesn't really like drinking, she knows most of the people on the other women's sports teams, that she used to date owen-

you choke on a sip of your vodka and nora pats your back with a chuckle. you were definitely off your game tonight. but besides that hiccup you have to admit talking to them is enjoyable. even their friend manny comes over and dares you to do shots with him and you were seriously about to do it before the girls talked you out of it.

over the next few weeks, you talk more and more to the anderson girl, to the point where you're staying up at night to talk to her over the phone and waking up to your roommate giggling in your face. once she was so tired after a game she started snoring and you would not let her forget it. just like she wouldn't let you forget the time you got wasted at a sorority party, got on top of the kitchen island, and danced to a city girls' song before she set you back on the floor.

you wouldn't ever admit it out loud, hell you had barely admitted it to yourself, but you had started to catch feelings for abby. there was nothing more mebarrasing and cliche to you than falling for your straight friend, and you really didnt want to be on eof those girls who did so. but in your defense, it was really hard not to. she was annoyingly pretty, lord knows how many times youe admired the freckles dusting her cheeks down to her shoulders. she was strong and smart and every other positive character trait your brain could conure up.

but the worst thing was just how nice she was to you.

in hindsight, the way everything fell into place was honestly the dumbest thing ever. you were at a county fair leah had heard about and asked you to come with her along with jordan and abby. obviously, the couple went in their own direction after a while, which left you and abby to wander around getting on the different rides and getting your reaction to abby eating her first-ever funnel cake. but then it was later, and the two of you had stopped at one of those rigged pop up games and you bet her twenty bucks that she wouldn't win, and if there was one thing you knew about abby it was that she took bets very seriously, so when she won and had to pick her prize you were a little confused when she picked your favorite animal and handed it to you.

when you asked her how she knew it was your favorite, all she could say was 'you said they were cool a few times and they're your profile picture on your private instagram, so i just put the pieces together.'

you went home and didnt talk to her for a week. or at least you tried to, because after a weekend of ignoring her calls and convincing tonya to bring you meals from the lunch hall the blonde girl banged her fist on your door and basically demanded you tell her what your problem was.

"i don't see what the big fucking deal is. i'm allowed a little bit of space from you, abigail."

she scoffed and you could see her tongue bunch in the corner of her mouth before her body pushed past yours until she was standing in the middle of your room.

"i'm not saying you can't have space and you know im not. i mean, one second we're having a good time together and then you just shut me out for no reason. if i did something wrong i need you to tell me. i can't read your damn mind, y/n."

sometimes it feels like you can, you think with a snort, feeling slightly embarrassed by the angry look on her face. you collect yourself and cross your arms over your chest. "i just don't feel like talking to you right now, so if you could please get out now-"

"nope. not gonna leave until you tell me what's wrong."

sometimes you could forget just how damn stubborn she was. it mostly popped up on the ice, and you had once overheard her coach say that if she wasn't such a great player she'd be benched most of the time.

"do you realize how annoying you're being right now?"

"don't care."

"i don't give a shit if you have muscles, i can still kick your ass."

"i'd really like to see you try, princess."

you groan and cover your face, but not before raising them in a choking gesture. you walk backward and sit on your bed, trying to take a breather before anderson follows you and resting on the ground in front of you, her large palms smoothing up and down your thighs.

"please, y/n, just...just tell me what i did and i'll fix it, i promise."

you've never been one to cry. or maybe you had been when you were a young child before your father taught you that 'crying doesn't achieve success, at least not the kind you want.' but you can see how much abby cares about you in her eyes and you know that despite you being unreasonable she'll put up with it anyway. your eyes start to sting and you rest your head in the crook of her neck.

she doesn't force you to say anything more than you want, rubbing the expanse of your back while another hand gently pats your head. after a long minute, you pull your head up and find that the space between your two faces is almost nonexistent, your eyes dart from her eyes to her lips, and before you can say anything else her hand is on the back of your neck and she's bringing your lips down to hers.

its soft and sweet and her lips are soft and feel like heaven against yours, and she doesn't give you a second to be confused about what's happening because she's making the kiss deeper and pulling your body closer to hers by putting her arms under yours and pressing you in by the back of your shoulders. you throw your arms over her shoulders and behind her neck and decide that you're going to enjoy this moment for as long as you can.

but eventually, you need to breathe, pulling your head back and letting out a shaky breath of air when abby just moves her ministrations to your neck, sucking and biting on the skin until it bruises.

"i..i thought you were straight." is all you can manage to voice, the feeling of her body pressed into yours and her teeth nipping at your neck making your mind hazy.

she laughs and kisses your neck a few times before looking you in the eyes. "well, i never actually said i was, you just assumed so."

"seriously? you dated owen? he's the dullest straight girl choice i've ever met. and we live in washington" you scoffed.

"yeah, well. that was a long time ago. i've moved on to bigger and better things."

she plants a big overdramatic kiss on your cheek, repeating so on the other side of your face until she can see your smile and hear you giggle. when you both calm down a little she backs up and wears a more serious look on her face.

"i care about you. more than i've cared about anyone before." she smiles, her thumb rubbing over the back of one of your hands. "except maybe my dad, obviously. and nora, she was kinda my best friend before you. but you get what im trying to say."

you laugh and nod at her. "i understand. i...like you too. a lot."

"geez, you're seriously emotionally stunted. but i'll take what i can't get, you'll warm up to me eventually." she slaps her hands on your thighs, ignoring the annoyed look on your face before scooching your body up until you're laying down on your bed, her body gently flopping down onto yours.

"abby! get the hell off, you're wearing your outside clothes!"

"cmon, just five more minutes."

and as much as you complained during those five minutes, you both knew you didnt mind that much.

after that things were really nice. at least for the most part. you were officially abby's girlfriend, which she had asked if you wanted to be the day after you two semi-confessed your feelings. she knew that this kind of commitment was new to you, and the last time it didn't go so well for her, so you both decided it'd be best to take it slow.

(slow meaning you did everything you two did before with the added bonus of making out whenever you wanted. you weren't complaining.)

but keeping things on the down low was a bit of a struggle. abby was a huge fan of pda, always found hugging one of her teammates after a successful game or cuddling with someone on movie nights. she would hug you when you were just friends, but now that you were comfortable with her touching you more in private it started to bleed into public life, her hand looking for yours when walking around or giving you a kiss on the cheek after you aced another test.

the next problem was your friends. you had told nora over a late night phone call while manny had found out when he had walked into the living room of his and abbys shared dorm and found the two of you with your shirts off and kissing on the couch, shouting in both spanish and english about how his eyes burned but he was happy for you both.

you both knew you could trust the two of them with your 'secret', but you didn't expect that end-of-the-year party owen and manny decided to invite you both to.

it was a mix of things really. you were going to just spend time with your friends and nothing more, but you were feeling really pent up. when you and abby decided to take things slow, that also meant sex. which at first was all right with you, hookups were a lot different than sharing yourself with someone you really cared about. but abby was just so effortlessly hot, and now since hockey season was over she had more time to spend with you and it was driving you up the damn wall. it got to the point that you found yourself nearly always on the brink of an orgasm when after a long day she'd press you into her bed and kiss you until you felt dizzy.

so when she decided to go to the party in a tight long-sleeved top and a normal pair of jeans, you definitely should not have been all over her as you were.

(to be fair. she was also on you like white on rice. you had decided to don a tube top with a mini skirt, figuring it couldn't hurt to dress up a little for a simple party. especially since it made your girlfriend look at you like she wanted to eat you alive.)

after mingling a bit and getting yourself a drink, you meet up with some of your friends and start to talk to leah about some drama in one of her classes when abby rejoins you, moving your body so your body is resting into hers. you aren't used to such a public display of affection, but this alcohol is blurring any desire you had to hide that she was yours and you were hers.

"god, you guys are so cute together it makes me sick." nora laughs into her red solo cup, shaking her head at your adorable but annoying affection.

leah's eyebrows scrunch up and she starts to pinch at your arm. "wait, am i missing something? you two are dating?"

at that point, some other people were listening in and looking in at the two of you, including none other than owen moore. now, you and moore were always cordial, but you wouldn't call him a good friend like you would the others. you always felt that whenever he saw or heard about you abby spending time together or heard about how close you two had gotten so quickly, he would smile silently while staring at you like he wanted to burn lasers through your brain.

and he was doing the exact same thing now, his grip on his bear so tight you feared the glass would break. somehow you were the only one who noticed.

"yes, we're together. finally managed to convince this one that jocks aren't just big dumb idiots a few weeks ago." abby's talking breaks you out of your thoughts, her arms snaking around your waist and pulling you to sit on her lap.

you cant help but roll your eyes. "i never once said that."

"well you were thinking it. i could tell."

some of the people who you didnt know and who were friends of friends said congrats, how cute they thought the two of you were, etc. it kind of weirds you out to have all these people paying attention to you just because of who you were with, but abby's quips to any weird remarks you didn't want to acknowledge made you feel better about anything.

but later on, when the two of you are unseriously dancing in the living room, owen comes over and asks abby to talk in private, leaving you to dance with some girls you recognized from the last party. but after three songs pass and abby still hasn't come back, you get a weird feeling in your chest and decide to go looking for the two. you head upstairs and down a few hallways before you hear two voices in a heated argument, and after numerous visits to her games, you can recognize abby's yelling anywhere.

before you can knock on the door to ask if something is wrong, it opens and you see a red-faced owen, not even saying anything before he knocks into your shoulder and goes back downstairs, clearly ignoring your call of 'fucking dick' to his back.

you scoff and shake your head, turning back around to say something to abby before you slightly step back at the look on her face. its dark, like if owen didn't leave she would have kicked his ass first, and now it's trained at you. you know she'd never hurt you, though. partially because she cares about you too much, and partially because you always keep a taser in your back pocket whenever you go to a party.

"abby? what's wrong? did he fucking say something to you?

she laughs before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. her long legs take seconds to reach the bed, her arm releasing when your body sits and bounces slightly on the bed as she stands above you.

"its...its nothing, just owen being a dick like always."

her voice is strained and her hands are tensing into fists, telltale signs that she was really pissed off. you hold her hands in yours, pressing little kisses to her knuckles. normally you hated being so sappy, but you knew that being cute with her was a quick way to calm her down.

"don't worry. i can guarantee one of these days someone is gonna kick his ass. unless i do it first, and you know i want to." you joke and smile when she laughs, gripping her hands so she can sit on the bed next to you.

"yeah, youre right."

"im always right. you should learn that if you wanna stick with me."

she shakes her head before looking at you in silence, and you feel your face get hot under her gaze. you'd never admit it to her but seeing her so angry really did something for you. the bottom of your leg rubs against hers, and her eyes dart down before trailing up your legs to the point where your skirt is starting to ride up your bare thighs.

"here, babe? seriously?"

you sigh, figuring she was right and having your first time together in some stranger's house during a party was horribly tacky. you start to move your leg before she grabs it and puts it on the bed before grabbing you and resting you in her lap.

"i didn't tell you to stop."

so yes, you did get tacky in a strangers house. and back in abby's dorm. and again after you both showered.

so if there was one thing you could ever thank owen for, it was finally giving you both the push you needed to take the next step in your relationship. but after that night things were a little strained, as abby and owen were on a no-contact basis, their fight having something to deal with them and maybe you although she wouldn't go into details, which just led to this drama also spreading to mel since she was dating owen and was always pretty neutral when it came to you and tense when it came to abby, and mel was close friends to leah who was now close to you and...

it was complicated.

but you were used to not having people around. you had abby, nora, manny, and tonya, and that was all you really needed. speaking of tonya, you don't think you've ever seen anyone as happy for someone else's relationship as you did when you told tonya that you and abby got together. she said it was 'half happy that you found someone for you and half happy that someone will finally get the stick out of your ass.'

but your bliss was partially broken when your mother called a week after you had your last finals to let you know she and her father were going to be visiting seattle to talk to you about something important. at this point you hadn't talked to either of your parents since winter when your dad had not so discreetly told you he would be on your ass about skiing again as soon as your leg was alright again. and you were definitely going to dread every minute you had to spend trying to cordial to them, don't even mention finally introducing them to your girlfriend who you so far had never told them about.

for a few days after the call, you must have been acting weird because abby could tell something was wrong and took you to a relaxing little cafe she had found when she first got to the city. you're sipping on a milkshake while abby does the same across from you, digging into her stack of blueberry pancakes, waiting for you to tell her what's going on while she talks about her schedule now that school is out.

"manny's gonna be gone for a month because of his music internship, so i was wondering if you wanted to come and stay at mine while he's gone. we can watch movies, dance to music, or we can practice those recipes i saw on tiktok."

"mhm, that sounds nice, babe." you continue to at least show minimal attention to what she's saying, briefly slurping at your shake until she speaks again.

"yup. but after that, i might have to leave for a while, i haven't seen my dad in forever and he wanted me to stay for two weeks while my aunt is visiting salt lake."

her words slowly die out when she notices how you stop slurping your drink, your eyes staring into space as your thumb scratches at your palm.

throughout your relationship, you had told abby the rundown of your relationship with your parents maybe once. at first, it was because it was a touchy subject and you would be embarrassed if she knew the reason for the way you acted the way you did and thought your baggage was too much for her.

and then it was because deep down you were jealous. they had their ups and downs, but abby had such a pure relationship with her father that sometimes it made you sick. while he didnt flaunt his wealth because of his principles, but abby would tell you about all the times when she was younger that her dad would give her the best birthday parties, take her with him to conferences around the world, and made sure she had anything she desired.

so when you had to tell her that the most your dad did was give you a break to be a normal adult instead of shaping you into a champion, you don't think there was ever a time that you secretly envied her more.

"this is about your dad, isn't it?" she whispered, reaching across the table to take your hand in hers. you nodded, relieved that your girlfriend could read you like a book and you didnt have to say it out loud.

"could you tell me more about it?"

shit.

you sighed, a deep breath leaving your body and clearing your head.

"my parents are gonna be here soon. said they wanted to talk to me about something "important", which means my dad thinks i've had enough time to recover from my leg being nearly snapped in two because he thinks he knows better than the doctor. but hey, maybe when i was gone he got another fuckin degree to throw in my face."

while you ranted abby never said a word, just paying close attention and providing you comfort. out of everyone in the crew, she was always the person people went to talk to when they needed it. she said it was something she got from her mom.

"all my life he's been like this. just pushing me and pushing me until im at the point of breaking until i use my anger to win. there's no doubt he's still doing it. heard my brother is being scouted at his games and he's only fifteen."

abby nods and presses a kiss to your hand, treading carefully with what she says next. "your dad sounds...horrible, honestly. he never...hit you did he?"

you feel your body jerk back and both of your eyes go big at your reaction.

"no, no he would never. im serious. wouldn't make sense from a logical standpoint, id be in front of other people all the time and any injuries would fuck up my skiing."

"well that's a bleak way of looking at it, but im glad he didnt. but the other shit is still bad."

"yeah. definitely not looking forward to dealing with that again in two weeks."

"i know, but im here, and im gonna stick by you every step of the way, alright? even if your parents find out they hate me and curse my bloodline."

you couldn't help but snort at her. "nobody could hate you, anderson. you would annoy them too much and make dirty bets against them."

"what? that wasn't a dirty bet! you'd just never seen my skills before and i used it to my advantage."

"whatever you say abs."

abbys reassurance and patience helped greatly, and by the time you met your parents at their hotel for breakfast, you weren't nervous about whatever bullshit they had to say.

but for some odd reason, they were very cordial. your mom asked you about school, how your grades were, and how you liked your chosen major. when it got to the point if you were seeing anyone, you not so subtly gushed about abby and she seemed really happy for you. your dad even praised you for picking another sportsman, avoiding your look while he ate his eggs.

a week later you even had the courage to introduce them to abby, who told you she would cook something for all of you to eat.

that tiktok recipe she was talking about? it was ratatouille. and you had to admit it was delicious, and you wondered how abby was so good at so many things and she told you when she was a kid she wanted to learn how to do basically everything and her dad was more than happy to indulge her. sometimes you really wondered how she didn't appear to be so spoiled.

but your girl was nothing if not a charmer, and by the end of the night your mom was gushing over how much she liked abby and thought she was a great match for you.

your dad was...your dad. he acted polite, asking abby about her intentions, if she was dedicated to her studies and sports and you at the same time. blah blah blah. abby gave perfect human resources-like answers that she knew would make you giggle and loosen up.

once dinner was over your mother insisted on staying a little while longer to watch a movie, finding out she and your girlfriend both had soft spots for mamma mia and grease and planned to drink some wine and let loose for once. while the two were watching meryl streep panic on screen your dad tapped you on the shoulder and asked if he could speak to you in private, and you were mentally prepared to get into yet another argument.

"i know i'm the last person who gets to say this but..you've seemed to have really grown this past year. I'm proud of you."

"thanks. i guess."

he sighs, shifting on his feet. "i know i've always been hard on you and your brothers. i just-i knew that if you had guidance you could be phenomenal at whatever you do."

"yeah, dad, but that doesn't mean forcing me to train for ten hours a day when i was still in third grade." you could list more instances of him being overbearing and partially ruining your childhood, but you don't feel like being the person who makes the conversation go sour.

"i know. trust me, i know. look, your mother has us going to a shrink and...one of the steps is asking for forgiveness and whatever mumbo jumbo."

you almost snort but pass it off as a sneeze. your dad in therapy was about as believable as a talking donkey.

"well, it's nice to hear dad but it's not gonna be just as easy as being nice to me and my girlfriend for a night."

"i know. which is why i wanted to show you this."

he pulls out and his phone and after a few taps shows you an article. you read the word 'olympics' and nearly blow before he cuts you off.

"just listen, alright? one of the big coaches was caught and fired for doping a bunch of the players, so they're postponing the winter games for another few years for investigations to see if there's any more misconduct."

"are you serious?"

"deadly. and i know with your leg and your schooling you'll have your hands full but, i figured the best way i knew how to bond with you was to help you. it'd be enough time to get extensive physical therapy and train up. but only if you want to."

"dad, i. i really don't know what to say."

"you don't have to say anything, at least not now. just promise me you'll think about it, alright? and if by next spring you still don't want to, I'll never bring it back up again."

after that, your mother comes and says they should get going to get enough sleep for their flight tomorrow, and you bid your parents goodbye with stiff hugs and a genuine smile.

for the next few months into your sophomore year your on the fence. when you were a kid, despite the pain and the tears and the bruises, there was nothing you loved more than skiing. you swear that the adrenaline rushes you would get speeding down slopes were better than anything you've ever experienced, even sex.

(when abby heard you say that one night on the couch, she pouted and wouldn't touch you for a week, telling you to go back to those stupid slopes if that's how you felt.)

but the point was that you were basically going through a beginning life crisis. either stick with the new normal you've created and potentially miss out on fulfilling your childhood dreams, or take a risk and potentially come out more damaged than before.

you were planning on spending the next thanksgiving mulling it over, but to your shock baby invited you to come with her to her dad's house for thanksgiving with her family. when checking in with her to see if she and her dad would be ok with this big step, she told you it was actually her dad's idea and she'd be more than happy to have you meet her family.

you swear to god you have never been more nervous on a plane than you were on the flight to salt lake, only being soothed by the constant free drinks you get in first class, the six hundred page book in your hands, and abbys large hand constantly rubbing on your thigh and back. you suggested that you both join the mile-high club as a joke and she seemed a little too into it.

"babe please, i promise ill be quick. i can even put my fingers in your mouth."

"abby, i was just joking. im not gonna do that and get kicked off the plane. god, you're so fuckin weird."

"you make me weird. pretty please? ill pull out the puppy eyes."

"i really don't give a fuck."

and you come to find out that abby's stories were true because her dad is so weirdly nice. he greets you at the airport like he's known you all your life, and is eager to find conversation the whole drive to his house where you both are staying.

you were glad that like you abby had a smaller family, or at least one she spent thanksgiving with. after her father you only had to introduce yourself to her aunt and her small family, a husband who you have to look down at and likes to boast about his coin collection, and three children. the eldest, ashley, was closer in age to you and abby and was clearly abby's favorite cousin. the middle child was a wild child named kris, who didn't seem at all phased that you were a stranger and kept asking you if you'd ever heard of their favorite anime series.

now, you've never been the best with children, you repeatedly told your mother to throw your baby brother in the trash when you were six, but you couldn't help but fawn over abby's baby cousin lyle, the cutest infant you've ever seen who after a few hours of fussing because of the time change, he calms down into a smiling drooling little thing who, although he keeps tugging at your hair when his mom hands you to him, seemed to actually enjoy your presence and laughs like its the funniest thing ever.

you didnt catch the way abby looked at you fondly while you were playing around with her cousin or the way she swatted her father away when he called her out on it.

so thanksgiving was easy, a peaceful week full of meeting kind people and eating some surprisingly good food. but you didn't even get a week of peace after before abby brought it up.

christmas.

yes the holiday was full of joy and warmth when you were a child. but after a mini teenage rebellion and your energy you just...gave up on the holiday completely. last year you spent it alone inside your dorm which wasn't the worst thing on earth. you got to watch corny feel-good movies like national lampoons, drink hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and had free reign to the library since the librarian apparently used to watch your games on tv. it wasn't like it used to be, but it was enough.

"so, you're coming with us to the cabin right?" nora reaches across the library table and takes one of your fries from the fast food you sneaked in. for some reason she refused to order her own fries, content to pluck the ones from your container.

"what? what cabin?"

"god, abby hasn't told you about this by now? i thought she would have taken you there already and made it her love shack or something." she quickly ducks her head when you toss a burnt fry at her, looking around to make sure no one saw. "it's her dad's cabin at one of the ski ranges in the mountains, she invites us every year for christmas break or new years if we can't make it."

"first, you're a perv. second, i don't know why she hasn't told me about it. id probably tease her for it anyway."

"well when you see her next ask her, because you definitely have to come with us this year."

"i don't know, nors. you know how i feel about skiing right now..."

"you don't have to ski! we literally never do, as sad as it is. we just hang out, go out for drinks, and hit the skiing town. im telling you cold resort parties are insane."

you take a minute to mull it over, staring into space as you tap your fingers on the hardwood table. nora fingers tap on the top of your hand.

"i understand you're going through things, with your dad and all. you don't have to come if you don't want to. but i know we'd really enjoy it if you came, especially abby."

you nod and eat another fry before gegging back to the novel you were reading, some 'all-time classic' abby had said you had to read.

you saw abby a few hours after that, yet again staying the night at her dorm to kick off the following weekend. when you entered using your spare key the smell of chinese food instantly hit you, and it took you by surprise since abby normally insisted on cooking for you and manny.

you set down your things and kicked off your shoes before heading into the little kitchenette, hearing the sound of rather loud whispers that stopped as soon the roommates saw you, noodles stuffed into both of their mouths.

"what the fuck are yall starin at?"

manny snorts before making some weird excuse for leaving, telling you he's meeting up with some meteorology student at a bar and he won't be home until tomorrow. you bid him. a quick goodbye before turning back to abby, the blonde picking through her food.

its only then that you notice the gauze wrapped around her palm, quickly cross the threshold to gently but firmly raise her hand up to your face to observe it.

your about to go on a triade when you see that sad pout on her face.

"tell me who did this to you." you grumble, putting on a fake deep voice.

she chuckles and shakes her head. "you're so weird."

"only because of you. tell me what happened."

"i was trying to cook before we ordered takeout and i just...got distracted and burned my hand. its not a big deal, don't worry about it."

you tell by the way her shoulders were tensing that she was getting into one of her moods, always hating when she failed at something and hating even more when people kept asking her about it.

"well im always gonna worry about, something that's also your fault by the way. what made you distracted."

"nothing."

"abs."

"please just drop it."

"abigail."

she groans before slumping her head into her arms on the counter.

so you decide to drop it. at least for a little while. you put away the rest of the food, deciding to eat the box she bought for you after her mood had been resolved before figuring you'd leave her alone while you took a shower.

but if there was one thing you knew about abby, it was that she took 'golden retriever energy' to a whole nother level. aka most of the time she couldn't leave you alone and followed you near everywhere. after only a few minutes, you heard the shower door open and felt her large arms circle around your waist and her head rest on your shoulders.

"i wanna ask you something. there's this cabin my dad owns that we all head to for winter break and stuff-"

you felt your heart skip a beat. to be honest part of the reason you were nervous about abby asking you this was because you were second-guessing yourself and your relationship. you hadn't even been together for a full year at this point, and even if you knew you loved her and that she adored you, you didnt want to be the one to bring up this thing she does with people she's known for years and get your heart damaged.

"and i wanted to invite you to go with us because i just know youd make it feel so much more special."

"i feel like a 'but' goes at the end of that sentence."

she rubs her head into your shoulder more, kissing at the soft and wet skin of your shoulder blade.

"i didn't tell you much. about my fight with owen. but everyone knows we haven't been talking much, but he's still been my friend since elementary, and i was hoping that maybe during the trip we could resolve things. but if he ever said something to you or about you i think id go fucking crazy."

your turn around and hold her head in your hands. her body is still slumped so her head is more at your level and her pretty blue eyes stare right into yours.

"i appreciate that. your slight anger issues make me feel honored." a smile quirks on her face and she nuzzles her head into your palms more. "and as much as he pisses me off, i don't know how i feel about causing a greater rift between you and your friends. ive only been with you less than a hear, he's known you for-"

"year or not doesn't matter. you mean...so much to me i can't put into words. the only reason i was nervous all day was that i didnt know how to make this sound like i wasn't putting him before you because i wouldn't. ever."

you look at her a bit longer, swiping away wet pieces of her hair back from her face so you can see all of her. because she's looking at you like she can do the same.

you both take an intimate shower without a word, helping the other bathe and lather her hair in apricot shampoo she's become addicted to. once you exit, dry off, and change into some matching fluffy pajamas she bought for you both, you finally head back to the kitchen to eat your food before turning on a movie.

it was only because you both decided to choose some random movie that the stupid thought crossed into your mind.

"could you imagine if we were that touchy all the time? we're already halfway there and it drives your friends nuts." you poked her cheek while you were resting on her, her arm wrapped around your shoulders while your legs intertwined on the couch.

"what do you mean?"

"just like, overdoing it. always with an arm around the other, making eyes across the room. if you wanna get extreme you could carry me on your back."

"or i could carry you on my front."

the shift of her hips and the tone of her voice makes you turn your head to look at her, nearly busting out laughing at the way her eyes are glued to the screen while she chews on her lower lip.

"stop doing that."

"doing what? im watching the movie. watch the movie with me."

"this is just like on the plane. y'know i was kidding about the exhibitionist thing at first-"

"baby, please."

"please what?"

she groaned while you just giggled at her, moving your bodies so she was sitting up on the couch and you were on top of her, adjusting your hips so you were straddling her waist.

"what're you thinking about, bunny?"

a subtle whine escaped from her throat and you smirked in triumph. there was nothing your girl loved more than being called the softest and cutest pet names, and you would frequently use it to your advantage, like the time when she refused to help you cheat on a test 'on principle' and you rested your face on her thigh from under the desk with a 'please, princess?' and she happily gave you the answers after roughly grinding herself on your tongue.

"i just...maybe if we played it up at the cabin owen would finally fuck off and realize im yours. i just thought it'd be funny."

you felt a warm feeling in your chest at the thought, showing your girl all the affection she craved from you on an idyllic vacation while also showing that dick owen who's boss. maybe then he'd finally let whatever his issue with you go. or not. at this point you didnt care.

"ok. we can do it."

"what? are you serious? i was half joking. i don't wanna make you do anything you don't want to-"

you cut off her sweet rambles with a press of your lips to hers. her arms brought you in closer until your breasts were squished into hers.

when abby texted the group chat the next morning next to you in bed to let the others know you'd be joining, you couldn't help but feel warm at the replies.

manny : thank god, i need a drinking partner since no one ever wants irish hot chocolate

leah : because the last time you made it you got drunk by five pm and kept singing baby its cold outside while doing both parts

jordan : and badly

manny : haters

nora : omg thank god

nora : this is all because of me btw

nora : tell y/n we're gonna have sooo much fun

manny : wait is she gonna ski

jordan : stop.

you giggled at your friends' antics. you were already imagining all the crazy things that would happen on the trip and happily listened to all the stories abby had to tell you.

mel : cant wait for the trip! hoping ben's is still open.

owen : 👍🏻

a snort escaped from you. "oh hes so pissed."

"definitely." abby agreed before turning the phone off and snuggling into your neck to relax for a little while longer. "prepare, he's probably just gonna get angrier from our masterful plan."

"technically my plan. and are you sure you still wanna do it? i don't wanna drive a wedge between you guys."

"he started that at that party. either he's gonna deal with me changing for the better or im gonna leave him in the dust. now shush, im going to sleep."

your hand smooths through abby's locks as she drifts back into sleep, and you soon follow her into it, dreaming of pale snow and the sight of the slopes.

the nex two weeks before break starts you're horrifically busy, finishing up some tests while also buying and packing everything you'll need for the trip. which is really just an excuse for you to get a bunch of those cute thick sweaters you saw on ebay but that's neither here nor there.

once your last class was finished abby immediately called an uber to take you to the airport, citing that as the host she always headed to the cabin earlier than everyone else to fix it up and stock up on little things, everyone would need or forget like extra blankets and lots and lots of water. during the trip to the airport, waiting in the airport since you were both 'get there hours before the flight' girls, and on the flight itself, abby was telling you stories of the cabin and what has happened on the past few trips that you should know about.

apparently, the cabin (in aspen, which you teased her was so basic) was bought by her grandparents (more teasing) for family trips when her dad was little. but as his siblings got older and started their own families the trips dwindled down, until his parents decided to just leave the place to him, telling him not to sell it for anything since it was worth a fat load of cash by now. hed take abby and her mom there before she passed, and then once she turned sixteen told her he trusted her enough to bring her friends up there if they could.

"honestly, i think it was part of him being nice and feeling sad we didn't spend much time together then. we were still mourning and he was always working." she sinks into her first-class seat, sipping on her complimentary ginger ale can. "but we're better now, and i get to have a laid-back vacation with my friends every year."

"sounds like a win-win to me. traumatic way you got there and all."

"you of all people saying that is hilarious, truly."

a few hours of talking and napping later and you've landed in colorado, a rental car waiting for you in the airport parking lot.

"abs, you are so secretly bougie. like, why didn't you rent a private car that time yours was in the shop and we were stuck in the rain downtown?"

"it's for emergencies and the necessary."

driving through the roads of aspen snowmass is something close to magical. at this point, the sun has set and the twinkling lights of the villages are everywhere, and you can see a plethora of christmas decorations inside shop windows.

when abby parks outside of the cabin your jaw is close to dropping, and you have to hold it up once you step inside. there was obviously a lot of wood, making up the floors, walls, and beams that connect both. but it was also decorated with relaxed brown and cream furniture.

"i want you to know if we get married, im not signing a prenup."

abby cackles before sneaking up behind you and tickling your waist, cackling at your shriek followed by a scowl.

"'if' babe, really? nice to know you're so committed."

"i'll be more committed if you give me a tour of this place."

the cabin was big, of course. enough bedrooms for your whole group and a few more. you honestly couldn't pick your favorite. there was a game room with a pool table you were just itching to beat jordan and leah at, a hot tub outside on the deck looking down onto the village that looked like the perfect place to drink champagne with nora talking shit about her recent ex.

"now, this is what i really wanted you to see," abby smiles before pushing open a wide set of doors on the upper floor and revealing to you the grand bedroom. there's a giant bed against the back wall, with a warm little nook tucked into a bay window.

"it's so nice here abs, really. i can't wait for everyone to get here so we can start doing stuff." you drop your bags by the front of the bed and flop your behind onto it, loving the way it bounces you up and down a bit. and you can tell that abby also loves it by the way she's staring at the way your boobs jiggle.

"im glad you like it, baby. but we don't have to wait for the others to get here to have some fun." a pervy little smile lights up her face and she starts inching towards you, making stupid little grabby hands as she does so.

"you're insatiable. aren't we supposed to be making sure this place is ready for everyone else?"

"wasn't it your idea for us to play everything up for fun? that includes sex. a lot of it. strap-ons are allowed on planes, by the way. and other things."

"...seriously?"

"seriously."

at this point, her arms are caging you into the plush of the comforter, and you don't know whether to look at the veins in her arms or her eyes or her mouth-

"you're staring, pretty."

"well you're all i can see, gorgeous."

she presses a soft kiss to the underside of your chin, her tounge poking out to lick down your neck.

"god, abs, please."

"please what?"

you groan and she just laughs at you.

the hardest part of being a switch was that abby could just throw shit back in your face when she became more dominant. it was both infuriating and arousing.

“im not gonna say it."

"you sure?" her large hand slips beneath the band of your pants until its resting over your underwear, teasing you.

"yes i a-am!" your refusal is cut off when two of her thick fingers slide inside of you, filling you up in the most delicious way. it doesn't help your case that there's no restriction, the wetness between your thighs letting her know just how much you were enjoying this.

"y'know, your master plan isn't exactly gonna work if you have an attitude with me, baby." her words are gravelly as she speakes into the crease of your neck, occasionally looking up at you to ingrain your reactions into her memory.

"god, abs."

"this is one the things i love most about you acting like a brat, just means i get to fuck and love on you until it goes away. and i've got all the time in the fuckin world."

just when you start getting close to your orgasm, you could've sworn in the distance you heard the sound of a door opening before closing a few minutes later. the feeling of abby kissing you and adding a third finger inside of you. you decided to just drop it

later on, after a nice long shower and putting on this cute warm sweater you bought, you and abby decided it was time to head out and get enough groceries to last for around two weeks until everyone else would arrive and decide what meals they would want after. it was very entertaining to watch abby standing in a fluorescently lit market aisle decide if she wanted to make a giant chicken pot pie or some creamy chicken soup one of her teammates told her about. she just stuck her tongue out when you looked at her.

once you returned to the cabin you could hear some music coming from inside the house, and despite your initial worry abby just smiled and rushed inside, your brain seriously wondering if you had chosen correctly romantically.

you headed inside with a few of the bags, setting them on the kitchen counters before heading to the source of the music that appeared to be coming from the living room. once you cross the threshold you are happily surprised to see your girlfriend and manny talking and laughing in the middle of the room.

"ah! nice to know abs hasn't broken you already." manny comes over to give you a big hug before setting you down and shaking your shoulders, just laughing when you start smacking his hands.

"jeez, what is with you guys? be normal."

"you forget im abby's roommate. this is because of you. you gave me this trauma."

you roll your eyes before patting him on the shoulder.

"ok, ok. why did you come early? when do the others get here?" abby asks from her place still on the couch.

"what, i cant just come because i love and miss two of my best friends."

the room is silent as you both stare at him.

"well just so you know, that was half true. but also," he looks down a dark hallway before tugging you closer to the couch so he can speak quietly. "mel and owen are here."

you blink. "thats...odd."

"very odd, but maybe it's a good thing? who knows, maybe owen's gotten over the whole fight and wants to put it to bed." abby turns to you, those big blue eyes filled with hope that you don't have the heart to squash with a joke.

"yeah, maybe."

"well if he did do that, i don't think he's in the mood for it now." manny chuckles.

"why not?"

"he was confused to see a car in the driveway, so he came by two hours ago and left like two minutes later. his face was as red as a tomato, you know how he looks when he's flushed."

oh my god.

you turned to abby and her cheeks were puffed, a clear sign she was trying not to laugh.

well, it looks like your plan was already working.

the next three days were more laid back, just spent taking a chance to relax and sleep in after your grueling semester. you decided to spend these days exploring more of the cabin, admiring all of the rooms and the random really pretty art pieces on some of the walls.

you swore that nothing could beat the bliss you felt on that second day, waking up to the faint sun in your eyes and abby gently snoring next to you, deciding to cook up a bunch of waffles, one of the meals you excelled at, and read a four hundred page book on the sofa.

(the plan was still in motion at this point, just more tame.

once jordan, leah, and nora came things really took a turn for the exciting. after hearing that you'd been cooped in the house these past few days, leah insisted you come with them to some bars and other hot spots around town. you hadn't been drinking much lately but figured that since you were surrounded by people you trusted and a bunch of strangers you'd be able to handle yourself.

and you did.

for the most part.

you just weren't expecting the bartender to be the chillest girl you've ever met and make a killer strawberry daiquiri, because before you knew it they were playing some old-school song over the speakers and were hanging off of leah's arm like a koala.

"oh my god, im so glad you invited me out. this place rules. have you tried the daiquiris? serenity said she'd make me one more but you can have it."

"her name is trinity, and you're getting touchy. where's abs?"

you shrug and she shakes her head, looking over your shoulders to see if she can spot the hulking blonde. she waves someone over and then abby is in your vision, a soft expression on her face as she tugs your body into hers.

"how much have you had to drink, baby?"

"mmmm, not too much. i could walk in a gay line. look, i even made a corny joke!"

"yes, you did." she squats down a little bit and you wrap your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist, trying to restrain yourself from making any noises when she lifts you with ease to the amusement of some of the people in the bar.

"how about we head back and take a long bath, pretty. ill even try those rose face masks you bought."

you were about to agree when out of the corner of your eye you catch owen, sitting inside a booth with jordan and manny, sparing looks in your direction.

you smirk down at her and she can already guess what you're thinking, tightening her grip on your hips.

"or we can do that later. and dance now."

you nod and loosen your legs for her to drop you but she just holds you tighter for a moment, leaning her head up to place a heated kiss on your lips before pulling away, fighting to ignore the tiny string of spit that connects your lips to hers.

"ok. now we can dance."

abby told you the next day that owen had asked to talk to her one on one in the morning and she didn't really understand what it meant. he apologized for lashing out at her, apparently, but still didnt agree with some of the 'drastic changes to her personality' that were happening lately.

you really tried to promise her that you wouldn't cuss him out, telling you she'd handle it later after having a conversation with manny to figure out when the hell he started acting like this.

focus on tried.

you and nora were in the kitchen that night making cups of hot chocolate, taking the chance to top them with all the stuff you weren't allowed to as a child. also probably increasing your risks of cavities, but whatever, it was nostalgic. you were laughing at the absurd abundance of whipped cream in her mug and the three candy canes in yours when you heard footsteps coming into the kitchen, looking over to see owen looking over some things in the fridge.

you looked at nora. she looked at you.

"so owen, how are things going with mel?"

his hand pauses over some leftover noodles, gripping it with a fist.

"we're great actually, thanks for asking norsie."

noras eye twitches, bumping into your shoulder before leaving the room to rest in the kitchen and wait for you before starting a movie.

owen turns and suddenly its just the two of you. staring at each other. you with a three-caned hot cocoa and he with a tupperware of linguine.

"what's your fucking problem."

his eyebrows shoot up, almost like he wasn't expecting you to actually bring up the tension at hand.

"y/n, is this really the time-"

"yes, it is the goddamn time to ask you why you've been acting like a dick to me and my girlfriend."

his mouth quirks downwards and you nearly laugh at the realization of the words, the glances, how he would look at abby sometimes like a kicked puppy even when his damn girlfriend sat on his lap, it was all because he couldn't move the fuck on.

"seriously? that's the reason? you've been putting me, putting abby through hell because you're still hung up over her? this is my worst gay nightmare."

"it's because ever since she's been with you shes been different, always acting like she's some better person now that she's over me. like i was the thing holding her back. how do you think that makes me feel, huh?"

you stare at him after his quiet outburst, his face that signature shade of pink and his eyes enraged. but he doesn't scare you.

you walk closer to him, entertained by the way she avoids you like the plague, and presses his back into the refrigerator. you want to lash out more, to scream at him until your throat is sore, to whisper all the little flaws about him you've noticed over the past year that are driving everyone away, but you won't.

"i hope it makes you feel like the heap of shit you are. goodnight, moore."

when abby feels you snuggle into her later that night, feeling your hands squeeze into her stomach from behind you, she asks if everything is ok, and you press a kiss to her cheek and tell her to go back to sleep.

the next morning it's christmas eve, and everyone is in the dining room eating breakfast and talking about how everyone somehow has no plans when you make a suggestion for the day.

"i wanna go hit the slopes today."

you swear most of them look at you like you've grown another head that just started trying to sing the tequila song.

manny continues chewing his eggs before giving you a thumbs up, but you can tell he's secretly been waiting for this. after you first met he asked you if you've ever skied again after your accident and then dropped it when you gave him a death glare. but since you've gotten closer he knows more about how it's not that you can't ski, but almost as if there was a mental block that stopped you from doing so.

"uhm...sure. i can see if we can do that. are you sure you want to?" abby rests her arms on the table and leans her head into yours, trying to give a sense of privacy for your answer.

"i'm not made of glass, abby. it's about time i get back out there. its the only way i'll known for sure about what my dad said."

"what'd your dad say?" mel speaks up from the opposite side of the table, her hand rested over owen's on top of the wood.

you straighten your shoulders. "some stupid doping scandal got the olympics postponed, and my dad said if i wanter he thinks he could get me back in shape by then to apply."

"holy shit! i mean, it's your choice obviously, but that's cool as hell. i think you should do it." jordan exclaims, sipping on his orange juice through a straw.

"wait, what about your leg? you've only had problems with it a couple of times, but is it alright enough to go ski?" nora asks. she was the one who besides abby you've told the most about your skiing problems, and once took you to the pharmacy to pick up your pain meds like it was no hassle.

"it's better if i don't push myself too much, but the blue and reds should be a piece of cake."

you look at abby, and even though she has no idea why you've had this sudden change of heart, she can hear the subtle excitement in your voice and nods her head at you with a smile.

thanks to everyone always waking up at the break of dawn for some reason, you're checked in to the slopes and ready to go only three hours later. jordan and manny even decided to join you and try their hands at the bunny slopes, the rest of the group deciding to find somewhere to sit and relax while they watched you all.

"mama please, you're embarrassing me." manny groans while you tilt his head from side to side to make sure all of the straps for his helmet and goggles are secure. you weren't about to have him getting a concussion and blaming you for bringing him here or the workers for their sloppy job.

"no one knows better ski safety than me. now shush, I'm almost done."

once you were finished you gently smacked his head and headed to the side of where the slope ends, abby beaming at you from over the rail. she was wearing this cute little beanie she bought for the trip and this all-black bomber jacket that made her look so much bigger than she already is.

"hello? babe, did you hear what i said?" abby's hand waves in front of your face bringing you back to focus. you slowly blink and she shakes her head. "you're so weird."

"again, i get that from you."

"whatever." her gloved hand rests on your face and she brings you closer so she can press a soft kiss onto your lips. when she tries to pull away but your arms are wrapping around her neck and pulling her body into yours, starting an impromptu makeout session before jordans wolf call yanks you out of it.

her fingers reach up to push a strand of hair back into your helmet. "are you sure you'll be ok up there? if your leg hurts just pull over to the side and i'll try to come up and help you-"

you cut her off with another kiss. "i'll be fine, princess. don't worry about me. just worry about all those losers I'm gonna show up."

she laughs that cute and loud little laugh of hers and sends you off, waving to you multiple times when she sees you go up the lift.

once you are at the top you go over everything again, making sure all of your equipment is snug, the track in front of you is good, and your skis are tight and before you know it you're standing at the top of the slope breathing heavy and feeling like you're about to have a panic attack.

your head feels like it's on fire and you swear that you are close to passing out when someone taps on your shoulder. you turn around and it's some teen by his face unobstructed by the goggles, a go-pro attached to his helmet.

"hey, sorry if i'm being annoying but, you're y/n l/n right?"

you nod, hoping he can't see the strained expression on your face.

"i just wanted to say that i think you're like, so cool. i saw that video of you training for the super g at thirteen and it changed my life, seriously."

your head felt a bit better at the memory. the adrenaline you got skiing down slopes at top speeds and then dodging the flags your father asked the owners if he could put on the track to help you train. they were nice people, and even let you pick what flags you wanted. a mix of pink and black.

"thank you. i swore that training took everything out of me. but at least i didn't have to worry about how i was doing in algebra."

he laughs and bobs his head. he clears his throat before slightly hopping on his two feet.

"you ok, kid?"

"yes, yeah, i just... ya see i have this youtube channel where i post videos of me riding down the slopes, helping beginners, trying the harder slopes, and stuff like that." he taps the go bro on his helmet. "and i was wondering if you wanted to do like, a friendly little race? i don't know, you don't have to i know you're leg is probably still healing, i can just go if you wa-"

"i'll do it."

his eyes bulge, surprised at your answer. you have to admit you're slightly surprised too. you weren't planning on doing anything more than inching your way down the intermediate slope a few times, but the memory of the super g has energy suddenly rushing through you. besides, it'd be a nice distraction from everything else. your dad. owen. you.

when you both get to the edge of the slope, you let him know you'll give him a twenty-second head start before you follow. he nods, and a few seconds later you're skiing for the first time in years.

and it feels fucking great.

at the speeds you are going the wind is whipping across the unprotected parts of your face, the stinging cold keeping you focused as you turn around trick hills and get your legs used to the feeling of slight strain. but your legs feel fine, and that makes you feel even better.

before long you can see the kid ahead of you and your friends in the close distance, nora's red coat bobbing up and down as she cheers for you. only five seconds after you pass your fan and can hear his slight spluttering before you're bringing your skis to a stop and the ice is flying from underneath them.

your heart is pounding as the kid, who tells you his name is aidan, thanks you for 'kicking his ass, i swear it'll get so many views". he tells you he'll tag you, and you do him one better by saying you'll follow him back and you're a little scared he's about to have a heart attack before he leaves to check in with his parents.

"oh my god oh my god oh my god! that was so fucking cool! i really thought you were gonna wipe out there for a second but I'm glad you didn't." leah squeezes your body in a hug rocking you from side to side. "are you gonna go again? if you do i swear I'll put on some skis and go down the bunny slope."

you throw your head back with a laugh, imagining leah slowly going down the snow while pizza and french frying her skis. you bask in the compliments given to you by nora who was watching the whole time and manny who tells you he successfully completed the green slope with no falls or bumps. you feel the urge to talk to abby, to have her tell you she's proud of you when you see her near one of the equipment cabins, talking to owen.

"are you gonna go again or do you wanna stop for the day?"

you look at nora with a grin. "yeah, i'll go again."

later that night, after a few more hours of racing your friends and even seeing a few more fans who recognized you, even one lady who said she remembered you based on your form, everyone is headed back to the house to end the day after getting some drink from the community lodge

for some reason, abby hasn't talked to you since, and based on what you saw you're preparing for the damn worst. a small part of you knows you might be overreacting, that there's no way she would fall for the bullshit more had to say to her, but her avoidance of you isn't helping that little part take charge.

like she could read your mind, she's on your tail and following you into your bedroom, taking off her clothes as you do the same but still no word before you head into the shower. under the heat of the water, you rest your head on the wall and close your eyes to try to center yourself. you know abby, you know how much she's done for you. owen wasn't going to get in the way of that and you refused to let him.

you dry yourself off, brush your teeth, moisturize your body, and decide not to put on your pajamas and just this cute robe abby bought for you before leaving the bathroom. after turning off the lights you stop in your tracks, abby sitting on the side of the bed and staring at you.

your feet slowly carry you closer to her before she rolls her eyes and tugs you onto her lap. your face is neutral, even when you can feel the bulge inside of her sweatpants. you tilt your head and she replicates it.

"let me guess, you got an attitude again?"

"you're a fucking hypocrite."

"wh?" her face jerks back in confusion. "what are you talking about?"

"don't play fucking dumb with me abigail. biggest personal growth moment for me in forever and you spend it talking to your damn ex, who if you didn't catch it is still hung up on you, by the way."

"i know, just let me explain-"

"no, i don't want to know. if you're just doing all this as some fucked up way to let me down gently i swear to god-"

you get cut off when one of her hands moves from your waist to cover your mouth, her eyes drooping when you nip at her palm.

"stop it. you know i wouldn't do something that shitty to you, please stop being so paranoid." she waits to gauge your reaction before she decides that you aren't likely to cut her off, softly rubbing at the skin under your eye. "please don't cry."

"im not gonna cry."

"just wanted to make sure. because i care about you, and that's what i was letting owen know that when he was being a jealous dick about you skiing earlier. told him I'm this close to kicking him to the curb for good."

"wait really? what'd he say? i bet he was pissed when i skied over that stuck stump, probably wishes i rode over it and fucking broke my back."

"jeez, you really do despise him." she shakes her head, smiling and rubbing her hands on your thighs. "but yes, he was wondering if maybe now that you were fine to ski you were trying to upstage me or something."

"and do you? and why were you ignoring me?"

she sighed. "literally the opposite. you're just...so amazing, and funny, and talented, and i just know soon you'll be this olympian and wont wanna deal with me and my dumb ex anymore."

"i mean, i am amazing you're right about that," you brag, giggling when she pinches you. "but i'd deal with anything to be with you. i don't even have the words. i wouldn't have gotten on that slope without you always pushing me, despite how annoying i may find it."

abby's' face is beaming and suddenly she's kissing you like you're air, leaning back into the bed so you can hover over her. she stops kissing you just to move her ministrations to all over your face, repeating little 'i love you's' as she does so, reveling in the little hums that leave your throat.

"ok, are we done being sappy so we can fuck now?" your question ends in a squeak when her palm slaps your ass. you look at her with a glare and she just dopily smiles at you, gripping your hips to flip you underneath her.

"y'know, owen and mel picked the room right next to ours." she grinds her hips into yours, the friction of the strap rubbing against you heightened since your robe was riding up to show her bare cunt.

"god, you want me to be loud, don't you?"

"mmhm." she grins as her hand moves down to push the band of her pants down, the feeling of the toy grinding out forcing you to bite your lip to hide your moan, embarrassed by how quickly she could make you want it. her thumbs moves to pull your lip from between your teeth.

she continues humping you until she can see you're wet enough to slide in, looking for your nod to push the strap into you, groaning as it just slides in.

"y/n, we barely did any foreplay-"

"shut up, please shut up."

for some reason she takes that as a sign to start thrusting, reveling in your moans as they finally start to pick up volume. you try to bite the back of your hand when she pulls it away, holding it in hers and holding it above your head. the action is so sweet it almost makes you cry, instead thrusting your head up to press a sweet kiss to her lips.

"mm, love when you're all sweet like this honey. wanna stay like this forever, love you so fuckin much i swear to god." she accentuates her last couple of words with short but harsh thrusts that knock the breath out of your lungs. your orgasm is fast approaching at this rate, and she can tell by the way your eyes are fluttering and your hand is squeezing hers.

"you gonna cum? huh? gonna cum all over me baby?" you nod your head, not trusting the words and sounds that are coming out of your throat. she moves her hand down to rub at your clit and suddenly your stomach is pulsing and your orgasm is hitting you like a truck, abby's following after yours as she's groaning into your neck and thrusting harder to grind the base of the strap into her clit.

it takes a minute for both of you to calm down, the bliss overtaking the both of you.

"was...was that loud enough?" you whisper and feel her silent laugh on top of you, rubbing your leg over the back of hers.

she pushes her head up enough to look you in the eyes, and you really regret asking the question because she's got that dumb-ass smile back on her face and shaking her head.

only a few minutes later she's got you on all fours, leg propped up as she forces your hips back and forth on her dick. and then after that she makes you ride her, and then the position she knows you're obsessed with: her fucking you while standing up.

"a-abs! abby! oh my god!" your throat is sore as her fingers grip the meat of your thighs, the force of her bouncing you and thrusting her hips up getting you closer and closer to euphoria. your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back, doing anything to avoid the way she's looking at you like you're some goddess she's been blessed to witness.

"just a little bit more baby. cmon, tell me how much you love it."

"i do! fuck abby, love it so much."

"love what, honey? you can do it, know you can. god you're so perfect."

your mind is hazy with the feeling of the strap hitting that sensitive spot inside of you with every bounce of your hips and her words that you barely even register her demand, groaning when she bites at one of your tits that have been bouncing in her face.

"tell me what you love. please, please tell me."

"nghh, love you abby! fuckin love your dick so much!"

"that's it, thaaat's it pretty girl. let everyone you're mine, that i'm yours-"

you're pretty sure she kept talking after that, but the rush of your orgasm deafens every sound and lights your body on fire, only able to feel the high and the cum leaking down your thighs. you go in and out of consciousness but come back to when you're both back in bed, abby pulling you onto her chest and she rubs a soft hand down your back.

"love you." you mumble, snuggling into the warmness of her.

"i love you too, y/n."

"'m sorry about earlier."

"me too. promise that i'll tell you whenever i'm feeling down. or when i'm dealing with a douche."

"me too."

you get the best night's sleep you've had in years.

in the morning everyone seems ecstatic for the holiday, ready to share their gifts with each other after breakfast. you decide to join in helping to cook, which gets you a crazy accusation from jordan saying your helping is just 'sitting on the counter so abby has something to look at while you drink a mimosa". whatever. abby is standing between your thighs and talking to you about her new workout schedule when owen and manny walk into the room, manny bidding you a sly 'good morning' with a smirk as owen grabs water from the fridge.

"hey owes, can you hand me one?" abby asks, her fingers drumming on your thigh as she uses the other to catch the bottle he tosses to her with a polite smile. your eyes are following the action suspiciously before abby is for some reason keeping a grip on the middle of the bottle as she opens it so the liquid spurts onto a bit of her shirt.

"ugh, abs! wait a second." you start to move off the counter when she holds your hips down.

"its fine, babe. i'm used to things squirting on me, anyway."

your face scrunches up as you smack her in the shoulder, your face hot as you hear jordan and manny cackling like hyenas and owen chugs down his water. abby just presses a loud kiss on your cheek.

other than your friends constantly teasing you, nora whispering a 'love shack' in your ear when she walks behind you in the living room, the day really is perfect. when the sun sets everyone is exchanging the gifts they got for each other. leah got jordan some necklace he's had his eyes on, manny bought mel some earmuffs after hers broke a month ago. some of them teased you for having surprisingly thoughtful gifts despite having a heart of only half-thawed ice, making you only reply that you weren't past taking the gifts back.

and then you open the gift abby got you and nearly cry; a custom snow globe, inside two mini figures dancing on a mountain of snow, one wearing skis and the other wearing skates. the she almost does the same with the corny 'cooking for two' book you bought her and the limited edition version of her favorite novel.

its a night full of warmth and laughter, and once it ends you find yourself standing out on the balcony, looking out at the lit lights of the village and the lifts on the slopes. your phone is in your hand and you open the text messages to your dad.

tell everyone i said merry christmas. its going to take me time to mentally heal enough to train. but if you're willing to do it with me then i'm in.

"hey, it's fucking freezing out here." abby opens the slide-apart door and comes up beside you, wrapping her arms around you to look out at the view with you. "are you ok?"

you sigh, turning to admire her. the redness of her cheeks, the tiny snowflakes in her hair. the way she's looking at you.

you nod your head.

"i'm on top of the world."

fics keep getting longer to overcompensate allah take me now. spent so much of yesterday aka my birthday writing this omg but it was so fun to write a more developed reader. uhhh idk stream cobra by megan.

[syoddeye]

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

~~

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

~~

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years. 

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates. 

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train? 

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire. 

~~ 

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you. 

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess. 

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'. 

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

~~

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes. 

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John. 

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator." 

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are. 

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe. 

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

~~

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray. 

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?" 

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some. 

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

~~

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

*feral noises* /I love new ari verse/. I hope the house renovations are going well :) (this is not a request but you can treat it like one if youd like)

"Why am I here, Charles?" Erik sighed, adjusting his cuffs as he looked up at the grey walls of the juvenile facility.

"A mission of mercy," Charles said mildly. "There's a young mutant here, and if she comes with us, she won't need to stay here."

Erik made a thoughtful noise, "Crimes?"

"Petty things... mostly."

"Mostly?" Erik asked archly.

"She might have stolen an impressive amount of money. And a car," Charles chuckled. "Though I do wonder how she thought she'd get away with it-"

"Maybe she wasn't trying to get away. Maybe she was trying to get away from something worse," Erik mused.

"It's possible," Charles hummed, getting them through the gates. "I suppose we won't know until we ask."

_____________

You exhale slowly and close your eyes, pushing the energy of the things you're touching out of the way and focus instead on the pieces of your bike.

Today is hell.

Everything has a story to tell.

Everyone has a story to tell.

And just once, you'd like to be able to have just you story in your head. It's like living with ghosts. Pictures flitting through your head all day long. Every pen, spoon, chair, table... it never ends.

Somedays, you can find solace and quiet. But other days, even after all these years, it's like walking through a tunnel. Living in three different worlds- past, present, and future.

"Wreck or a tune up?" Scott asked, leaning on the wall of the garage.

"Tune up," you answer, refocusing in on the present to look up at him. "Felt like a good day for it."

"You can do mine next if you're in a mood," he teased.

"Can't manage on your own Scottie?" you pout, "That's sad-"

"I can manage just fine," he snorted. I just know you can do it in about 20 minutes."

"Not quite that fast," you tell him, "Your clunker would probably need longer."

"Hey!"

You grin at him and wave at Jean over his shoulder, "Wanna get our grading done?" she asked. "I hate getting behind."

"Mine's done," Scott said.

"I'm already behind," you snort. "I can't find a pen that isn't fucking chatty."

Jean winced sympathetically, "Ugh. I can't even imagine-"

"Jean," you laugh, "yeah you can. You've been in my head."

"But all the time?" She shook her head and watched you start working on your bike.

"Usually it's not-" You break off, your hand closing around a wrench. Not your wrench. And it's like you were being shocked. This wasn't the same scenes- because it wasn't YOUR wrench. You got tossed backwards into a different time. Blood and gore everywhere. And you're blood-spattered. You've been shot. And your chest is on fire.

It's hard to breathe. And above you you can see Jean, smacking the side of your face gently. And you can feel someone- probably Scott trying to pull the wrench out of your hand.

"Fuck- I can't-"

"Let go," Scott said, trying to break your grip, "Shit! I'm gonna break her fingers if-"

"Focus," Jean soothed, stroking your hair and rubbing your knuckles. She can feel the anxiety and the pain- the struggle for you to get back into this time. To let go of the item you're holding. To stop jumping from scene to scene.

And when you finally did let go, all you can do is lay there and shiver. "Fuck!" you pant. "Why the fuck-" You give the wrench a dirty look and Scott picked it up, turning it over in his hands.

"This is Logan's," he frowned, "but why was it in your box?"

"I didn't put it-"

"Probably one of the kids," Jean shrugged.

"Fucking rude."

[nanaminsmoon]

𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝.

a/n: i’m not in love with this but i’ve been writing it for too long and i just need to not worry about it anymore:))and sorry it’s so long.

cw: oral (f receiving), public (it’s a house but it ain’t yours soo..), finger sucking, connie is toxic and manipulative, connie calls reader; ‘ma’, ‘mama’, ‘mi amor’, and ‘baby’, n word usage.

wc: 4272...

pt.2

you and connie had been ‘separated’ for a few months now. that is, if you were even together in the first place. in your head, he had been your boyfriend for nearly 5 months. but, in his mind, he had been a single man for all that time, and he had been acting accordingly. upon finding that out, you cut him off. as well as anyone who associated with him. all his friends had known of his shenanigans and none of them decided to say anything. that didn’t surprise you because obviously his boys are gonna back him over you, they’re his friends. but the salt in the wound was how they treated you during that duration. telling you things like; ”we’ve never seen him act like this with anyone. he’s just different around you”. which, looking back on it now, you should’ve known was just lies to reassure you so their boy could run around hoeing in peace.

the party was on a saturday, and mikasa came by to pick you up. well, ony drove her to your apartment to pick you up so you wouldn’t have to enter the party on your own. and the drive was very silent because you hadn’t spoken to ony since before you and connie ‘broke up’. so he wasn’t sure what to say, simply stealing glances at you through the rear view mirror, before he sighed deeply and finally spoke.

the final straw that cemented the decision to block him was a girl he had been fucking around with, ‘coming to you as a woman’. you didn’t even give him time to explain himself, just blocking him and anyone you had met through him. even mikasa who you had grown very close with; you just wanted anything connie out of your life so you could move on. but there was no bad blood there, and that’s why she felt comfortable enough to invite you to her birthday party. your first instinct was to decline, but then you decided that you weren’t going to let some nigga you weren’t even involved with anymore affect your life, so you agreed.

“look, y/n, i’m sorry i—”, he started but you rolled your eyes, and spoke over him.

“focus on driving, ony. i’m just here for mikasa.”, he nodded at you, diverting his gaze back to the road. and mikasa turned back at you, mouthing a stern ’be nice!’, which you also rolled your eyes at.

maybe it was just paranoia, but you thought you saw lips that were very similar to connie’s with a blunt hanging from them. but you shrugged it off, and carried on enjoying your night. that was until you made your way to the bathroom, looking over your shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one was behind you. and there hadn’t been, but you had been in there for like 2 minutes before you heard heavy knocks on the door. luckily you were basically done, and when you went to open the door, you were met with a familiar ‘cs’ chain.

thankfully, your arrival at mikasa’s house was a quick one. and, even though the birthday girl wasn’t even there, everyone seemed to be having a good time—smoking, dancing and drinking. mikasa’s parents had money, so their house was in a pretty isolated area, and everyone was taking full advantage of the fact that there would be no noise complaints. but you remained pretty quiet and composed, pulling your skirt down whenever you saw weirdos looking at you. although the perpertrator was unknown, you could feel two holes being burnt into any bit of exposed skin on your body. you hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was, but mikasa had reassured you that his presence had been sacrificed so you could attend.

“fuck off connie”, you didn’t even look up as you walked to push past him. but he placed a hand on the doorframe, blocking you, before pushing you inside the bathroom. locking the door behind him once inside.

“the fuck’s your problem?”, he started and you scoffed at him. your eyes finally met his; slightly red, and evidently agitated.

“you’re the one who’s been staring me down all night, the fuck you mean my problem? what’s your problem?”, you crossed your arms, and he chuckled at you.

“you block me and my friends without saying anything, then you show up again a few months later”, he walked closer to you, making the gap between your bodies a mere few inches. there was no space to escape him, so you just opted to turn your head to the side.

“you didn’t deserve the closure.”, you spoke quietly, and he scoffed again.

“the fuck did i do?”, he grabbed your jaw and turned your head. damn this man was fine.

“you know what you did. and so does she. or however many of them there were”,

“the fuck are you talking about? y/n, it’s always been you. you know that. my friends knew that. yeah, i spoke to that girl, but it was always you i really wanted. i just didn’t know how to express it. i’ve never done this before, so i just didn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. but i can do better. for you, i’ll be better”, this man was just spitting out phrases from the man whore encyclopedia and it was hilarious to you.

“i don’t know how i didn’t see through this before” , you laughed out, and his grip on your jaw tightened, “give up, connie, we’re done.”, you spoke out, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“says who?”,

“me, nigga. now move.”, you ripped his hands off you, and made your way to the door. but your wrist was in his hand before that could happen.

”c’mon ma, don’t be like that. you know how i feel about you.”,

”do i?”, your features twisted at his ridiculous words.

”don’t play like you don’t when you know you do”, he smirked at you, ”and if you don’t, then i’m down to show you”, he lifted your hand to kiss it, but you yanked it from him before it reached his lips.

”bro just leave me alone”, you kissed your teeth, and went to walk out.

connie knew he had you where he wanted you, he never had to do much to you. and that’s what he loved; how sensitive you were to his every touch. every kiss he stamped onto your skin, as his fingers continued making light work of unravelling you through your damp underwear. every light nibble to your earlobe, or your neck. not even the space behind your ears went neglected, also being rewarded a wet kiss, as he fought to keep composure. the sound of your moans and your scent; a sweet culmination of vanilla and cocoa he had grown to miss more than he cared to admit. all of it was making his dick grow harder in his boxers. your breathy whimpers held a strong contrast to the briny words you were throwing towards him a few minutes ago, and that amused him.

as always, things didn’t end until connie wanted them to, and he was nowhere near done with you. so before your hand even reached the door handle, his had wrapped around your throat, turning you around to crash into his lips. he gave no warning before his tongue was entering your mouth, slowly moving with yours. the taste, and faint smell, of whatever alcohol he had been drinking entered your mouth—spreading through your senses to cloud them. your mind told you to pull away and walk away from connie for good, but the heat between your legs begged you to do the opposite. its argument growing louder once his hands lifted your skirt up, and started rubbing your clit through your, now soaked, thong. no amount of willpower could possess enough strength to stop your hands from finding his nape, or producing light gasps interlaced with whimpering moans of need.

”still want me to leave you alone?”, he chuckled,

”y-yes”, you tried to say, through laboured breaths.

”really? all that moaning you doin’, i wouldn’t have guessed”, his free hand slid your shirt up, and he smirked to himself at you not wearing a bra.

any other day, connie would’ve teased you until you literally got on your knees before him and begged him for relief; promising him anything and everything in the process. but his jeans had gotten significantly tighter, and denying you would be denying himself. so his lips gifted a final kiss to both your nipples, before they began trailing wet kisses down your stomach. sucking ever so often. he pulled your skirt to sit near your belly button, and he had to refrain from laughing at how compliant you were being. though your words expressed disdain, your body wouldn’t pull you away from his touch. even as he lowered himself to kneel on one knee, and set his hand behind your thigh—gently tracing it up and down the back of it. eyes glued on yours—he watched your pupils navigate the room in a futile attempt to escape the chills his hands served you. gentle fingertips were replaced by pink lips, scattering kisses on your skin. beginning at the end of your boot, and languidly moving upwards. jealousy had washed away his aggression control, and he marked you like he was a man you had sworn your life to.

”i’m not moan—”, your rebuttals were cut short by the shrill moan that ran out of your mouth at his cold caps nipping at your bare nipple. one of his hands feeding your other nipple teasing pinches and rubs.

”don’t say i don’t care about you, ma. you have no idea how hurt i was seeing all those guys looking at you earlier. looking at these thighs”, his voice was low, gravelly, and somewhat muffled by your thighs, “my thighs. and you just let them. d’you know how that makes me feel, mi amor?”, connie pouted against your freshly bruised skin.

because your moans would not stop. you thought they were quieter than they really were, until you heard them bouncing off the tiled walls. and connie could see it; he could feel the battle between your pride and your body emanating off of you. and the fact that he was making you feel good, despite you claiming to hate him, was the radioactive fuel that fed the cocky fire in his stomach.

”and i’ll d-do it ag-gain. n-nigga.”, that comment had to fight for its exit, but you would maintain your agitated front. no matter how stupid it made you look.

”wan’ me to leave you alone?”, he hummed against your flaming skin—purposely entertaining your mid-thigh for far too long. and you whined out in response—no matter how bad you needed him, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. but connie wasn’t one for disobedience, you had always known that.

”you know how i get about you using your words, ma.”, he tsked, and you whimpered down at him. you hated when connie did this shit. but he just continued,

“now, i’ll ask you again. still want me to leave you alone?”, he licked the wetness gathering at the front of your underwear. fingers pressing into the fresh markings of his possession.

”i want you to—to…”, you began, but were soon distracted by the picking up one of your legs, before connie slung it over his shoulder.

“go on, i’m listening. you want me to what?”, his eyes were glued to the wet patch on your thong as he pushed it aside. his caps making an appearance when his teeth sandwiched his bottom lip between themselves at the sight of how wet you already were.

”i want-t you…”, again, your words were cut short by connie gently spreading you open, and blowing onto your aching bud before planting a kiss on it.

”mm hmm, i want you too, mama”, his kisses grew harsher before he swirled his tongue around it, sending a bone chilling electrical current up your spine.

”n-no, connie. i want y-you…t…”, your words were struggling to come out, because your vocal cords were straining themselves to not moan this man’s name, and beg him for more.

”that’s my girl. i knew you’d come to your senses”, starting at your contracting hole, he licked a stripe up your slit. ending it with his plump lips embracing your clit, and sucking on it. his lips gently held it, as he swirled his tongue all over it. now, the only sounds present in that room were the moans forcing themselves past your glossed lips, and the loud pop created by connie pulling his mouth off you.

his mouth focused on your clit, as his ring finger entered you. your back arched as you clenched around his digit, and connie’s confidence grew higher than it already had been…somehow. so it wasn’t long before another digit entered you, curling to induce a cry from your lips.

”y’know you the only girl who could get me on my knees?”, his eyes looked devilish as they looked up to you, ”’cause i’d do anything for this pussy. you're so mean for taking it away from me, ma”, his feigned pout only lasted a few seconds before he was lapping up your wetness on his tongue, and tongue fucking your hole.

”c-connie, please”, you hands ran through his buzzcut as his mouth continued working you towards your orgasm.

”connie, i’m—fuck—i’m gonna cum, p-please”, you pleaded. but things were never easy with connie, and as soon as he heard your pleas, he pulled away from you. his fingers retreated before he stood to his full height, smirking down at your abashed expression.

”open your mouth”, he ordered, and you shook your head. but connie didn’t have time for your shit, and his dry hand grabbed your jaw. squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth himself and, at that point, you had no choice but to acquiesce. a smile graced his face once you did, before he inserted his fingers in between your lips.

”suck ‘em”, he commanded, and you listened. moaning a little when you tasted your own arousal on your tastebuds. but connie wasn’t satisfied.

”use more spit, ma, you know i love when you’re messy for me”, and you did. frothy drool, dripping from the sides of your mouth. landing on your shirt, and sliding all over your chin. connie’s dick twitching made him greedy; he may have wanted your first nut to be around him, but he missed your head, and he needed to see you gag around something before he fucked you. so his fingers pressed a little harder on your tongue, before he pushed them a little further back. feeling the way your throat wrapped around his fingers so nicely.

you had forgotten how big, and pretty, connie’s dick was until he pulled it out of his jeans and your eyes widened. his tip was a very deep shade of pink, and glistening at the tip. and his thumb ran over the pre-cum staring at you, screaming an open invite for you to lick it clean, and he rubbed it all over his long length. connie threw his head back, he knew how much you loved the sight of him stroking his dick; he’d sent you video after video of him doing it. but he also knew the way it made your insides boil, green eyes staring at his hand moving up and down.

”if i didn’t know how good this pussy was, i’d fuck your throat right now”, were his words before he pulled his fingers from your throat to messily kiss your lips.

even though he claimed he cared about you, connie fucked you like he hated you. the flesh on your ass reverberated against his hips and stomach with every thrust, and it made connie’s teeth clench as he lifted his hand to slap your ass cheeks. leaving them stinging, only to quickly sooth them with his large palms. the orgasm he had stolen from you a few minutes ago began building again, and it felt more intense than the last one. connie could see it all; he could see it in your furrowed eyebrows and in your teeth sinking into the skin under your lip.

”it’s yours, ma.”, he moaned out, ”you know it better than i do, so give it what it wants.”, his words beguiled you, and you lifted your hand to stroke him. flicking your wrist in the way you know he loved it, and a deep groan rose from his lips, to meet the ceiling. the warmth of your palm around him only made him want you more, so he moved it from himself, and turned you around. instead placing your palms on the marble surrounding the sink, and sliding your thong to the side. his tip teased your entrance for a brief few moments, connie’s eyes watching your face in the mirror in front of you, and smiling to himself before he slammed inside you.

your first nut took all the power from your body, as you twitched around connie and practically screamed his name. infinitely grateful for the loud music playing outside,

”’f you wanna cum, you gotta let me hear you, mama.”, he kissed the side of your neck, sucking on it, before his hips stopped. when you looked up at his reflection, you saw that he meant the words he had said to you, so you nodded to him, and he began moving slowly. instinctually, your body moved you back onto him, chasing that release you yearned for so badly as loud moans of his name, mixed with obscenities left your mouth. the corners of connie’s lips rose, and his thrusts hastened immediately.

”connie, p-please, wait-t”, you placed your hand on his lower abdomen, but it was quickly removed by connie’s tatted one. it engulfed yours as he put it back on the counter, caging it with his own. he was still fucking you like there was no tomorrow and he had to fuck you out of your mind today, or he’d never get the chance to do it ever again. his tip ambushed that spongy spot inside you, sending your body into the sink basin as your orgasm lurched you forwards—your arousal sprayed all over the floor, and connie’s shoes. he kissed his teeth, before slamming into you harder.

”c-con, your shoes.”, you looked down apologetically, and his head shook behind you.

”fuck the shoes, mama. this pussy worth so much more than them. i’ll fuck you good, and you’ll buy me new ones, yeah?”, his hands wrapped around your jaw, his tongue meeting the skin on your neck, and you just nodded furiously. when his hand moved from you, your head bowed once again.

”look at me, y/n.”, you lifted your head to meet his eyes in the mirror, ”you still don’t see how i feel about you? you don’t see how fucked up this pussy got me?”, there was an odd sense of security in his eyes, but you knew it was a false one. it had roped you in before, but not this time; as truthful as his words sounded, you knew better now.

”and you took all this away from me because of some bitch?”, he kissed the shell of your ear, ”what happened to my good girl? she would never do that to me”, he pouted again. fucking into you with reckless abandon, muttering whatever bullshit came to mind under his breath. from the few words you could discern, it sounded like he was talking about the girl who had told you about his antics.

”what was her name, mama? tell me”, he crooned in your ear, and judging by the fucked out look in your face, he could tell you didn't know. he was so happy seeing your eyebrows scrunched, deep in thought, but all that effort being tossed out bit by bit, with his every thrust.

”tell me who she was, and i’ll fuck her up. i promise you.”,

”i don’t-t remem-mber”, you stuttered.

”oh, you forgot?”, he crooned, ”doing all this shit? blocking me, ignoring me, taking my fucking pussy from me. over some bitch whose name you don’t even fucking know”, his words were spaced out by harsh thrusts; one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. it was funny to you how he was making you feel the repercussions of his actions. punishing you when he was the reason you had separated in the first place.

all your friends had told you to stay away from connie because he brought nothing but stress. and you had tried, but anytime you tried to have that conversation with him, he would fuck you stupid and you’d end up cuddling and pretending nothing happened. and that process would repeat itself. but this would be the last time; you’d let connie think he had you back just this once, then you’d leave him for good…

he picked you up to put you on the sink, before he positioned his tip at your weeping entrance, and lifted you off the marble. his hands weaved under your legs to sit on your waist, shifting all your weight onto his dick. your legs hung over his arms, thighs smacking against his biceps as he just lifted and fucked into you like you were no more than some silicone. connie was just so lost in it; so lost in you. he should’ve been used to how wet and tight you felt, by now, but his dick still pulsated on its own at the feeling you were giving him. pulsations turned to throbbing when his eyes dropped to look at the white ring of both of your arousal accumulating at the base of his dick, and a deep sigh left his mouth without his knowledge.

right after you let him pick you up and use you as a human flesh light.

”fuck.”, he whispered. he could get pussy anytime he wanted, but yours made anything else pale in comparison. he had always thought that he didn’t need you to trust or love him; he had never asked that of you. but your absence was felt more than your presence. your smile, your texts, your calls, and the way you needed him like he’d never been needed before. he knew he had messed up, but he just needed one more chance. and he’d get that by making you miss him as much as he’d missed you.

”look down at it, ma.”, his legs were losing their strength at how good you felt, so he leant you against the sink once again. meeting your lips as soon as he had, **before his hand rose to the back of your head to push it to look down at where you two connected,

soon, his lips returned to your neck—kissing and biting it. with how sloppy and wet the kisses were, as well as the dramatic change in the rhythm of his thrusts, you knew connie was close. but you didn’t realise how close he was until you came around him, your head leaning back to rest on your shoulders. and when you lifted it to look at the man in front of you, you saw a glimpse of him biting his lip harshly, before you were met with the crown of his head. a word that faintly sounded like ’love’ left his mouth when he came, but the feeling of his seed filling you; warming you from the inside out had been the star of your undivided attention. an ambiguous silence filled the bathroom once you both finished, only slightly masked by your heaving breaths. amplifying your gasps when a knock resounded from outside. as if nothing happened, you jumped from the counter, and covered your cum filled hole with your underwear. wincing at the new sensation before making your way to the door—leaving connie to get himself together.

”still don’t see how i feel about you?”, connie’s words were straining in a strange mix of lust, and affection, “see how good you take me? it’s like you were made f’r me, baby. how could i not love you?”. your muscles contracted at that word ‘love’. it was one connie had never said to you when you were together, and you knew he was using it now to get you back. but it meant nothing to you.

”we really are done.”, you spoke with your back to him.

”yeah we are…”, your newfound freedom from this man had your eyes lighting up in both surprise and relief. but, as always, your hopes and dreams were shot down by his next words,

”for now.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[wandussyfantasy]

I Can See You

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x G!n Amab Reader

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Reader are having a relationship in secret in order to appear professional around the other Avengers. But it's not as easy as they thought it would be.

Word Count: 2094

WARNINGS:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!

smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, oral, hand job, fingering, sneaking around, dirty talk.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

You roll your neck to fix the stiffness of it from staring at the screen in the boardroom for over an hour. Wanda watches you from the other side of the room and when you bring your hand up to massage your neck she can’t help but bite her lower lip. She loves your massages. You always make a flirty remark about her magic fingers but she thought yours held a much more satisfying magic than hers. You feel her stare and wink when your eyes meet. Wanda blushes and returns her attention to Steve giving the long briefing. 

“I wish I had Wanda bent over this table with my tongue inside of her,” you think to yourself as you look in Wanda’s direction. By the way she clenches her fist shut, you know that she read your mind. “That’s against the rules, Wanda,” you playfully scold in your mind. Wanda pretends to ignore you which only makes you want to fluster her even more. “Then again, you were never good at following rules… Naughty girl.” You test out but with the lack of authority to your tone it makes her laugh behind her hand.

“Nice one,”  she says back to you. 

Feeling a little embarrassed that the pet name didn't take. You go back to your earlier tactic. “What would you do if I were to touch you now?” She licks her lips and pretends that she didn’t hear that one.  “I could see you up against the wall with me. My fingers inside of you. What would you do if I…”  You smirk as she snaps her pen in half, making the ink fly everywhere. 

She sits up in her seat and unsuccessfully tries not to draw attention as she tries to clean the mess. The others in the meeting look in her direction and Steve is upset by the disruption and stops talking. Tony presses a button and calls in someone to clean the mess and you grab one of the tablets from the charging station and one of the pens that go with it. When the spot on the glass table is cleared, you place it in front of Wanda with the notes app already open. “This is why we have the best technology available to everyone,” Tony says. “Just please, don’t break that one.” Wanda apologizes again and the two of you focus on the meeting until Steve is done. 

Once the group is dispersed Tony comes up to you to tell you that he expects you to join him in helping him, Natasha, and Steve talk to some government officials at an event later. They needed to play nice with them in order to continue to operate with so much red tape but because of the destruction the Avengers continue to cause with their missions it’s gotten increasingly difficult. Especially after what happened in Sokovia. There are rumors that they are trying to make something that prohibits them from operating how they normally do and they want to get ahead of it. Hopefully win over some congressmen to vote in their favor. Natasha is skillful in persuasion, Steve knows how to talk to those who have served in the military and you and Tony know how to talk to people with money. You agree to come along and assure Tony that you’re going to be on your best game and behavior. He smiles and tells you when to be ready. 

You get in the shower and get dressed in a timely manner. When you come out of your room, Wanda brushes past you  in a tight red dress as she adjusts her earrings. “Sorry,” she says as she continues on without looking back at you. 

“Where are you headed?” You ask as you try to catch up with her. 

“Tony said that they need me to read minds,” she explains. “Get a sense of who we’re winning over. But I can’t be seen with any of you. Tony is afraid they will kick everyone if I’m there.” 

“Makes sense, politicians are full of career ending secrets,” you see their point. “Is that why you’re all dolled up?” 

“Yes, and I have to wear some facial disguise for extra measure,” she informs you as the two of you walk into the main area of the compound. “Looks like you have to go,” she points to Steve pacing as he checks his watch with Natasha leaning against the wall bored and Tony pouring himself a drink. “I’ll see you later, but you won’t see me,” she winks. 

“With that dress, I’ll be able to spot you in the crowd,”  you think to yourself and she blushes. “Rules, Wanda.” You playfully remind her. 

“Rules are meant to be broken,” she replies and you smile as you part ways. 

“What’s the hold up! Let’s go,” you clap your hands as you direct the team out of the building. Tony chugs the rest of his drink and returns the glass to the bar as the rest of you leave the compound. 

Once at the event, which is being held at a museum, the four of you go your separate ways to cover the most ground and talk to as many people as possible. You focus on the task and make many people laugh and hopefully help them see your point of view. Express that the Avengers work best when they aren’t tied down to the government's restrictions because the way the bad guys operate, they don’t care for restrictions. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a red dress through every conversation and you know she is watching you. After talking to a very handsy woman who has just come into another great fortune as her third rich husband has just passed, you spot the woman in the redress again, this time she is leading a man away with their hands locked together. You excuse yourself from the woman and follow the red dress. Your heart begins to race from imagining Wanda with some random man, even if it is for a cover. 

Unfortunately, you lose her in the crowd in your search. She had walked through the large hall of the main party. There are many people with their cocktails chatting away while an orchestra entertains them with live music. You go into a sensory overload as your eyes wildly scan the room for her. Trying to figure out the face they gave her for the night. Trying to not imagine another man with his hand between her legs. You adjust your tie and straighten out your suit as you calm yourself down enough to spot the man she led away with her in the crowd all alone. Your body relaxes as relief fills you. She wouldn’t do something like that behind your back. There wasn’t any reason for you to panic. You know. But you don’t like how often they require either of you to flirt with people in order to get information out of them. 

Finally, you see the familiar red dress leaving the hall across the way. You make your exit and find your way around the building until you spot her. You stop when you spot her chatting with the mayor as they admire a sculpture. You pull out your pen and rip out a piece of paper from your leather pocket book and write down an invitation for her. “Meet me tonight,” it says. You fold it up and you make your way towards the two in conversation. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a fan of Clodion, Mayor Fisk” you say to the man as you stand beside him in front of the Intoxication of Wine sculpture. “Y/n Y/l/n,” you grin at the lady beside him and offer her your hand. She takes it with a shy smile as she introduces herself as Ana. 

“You found me,” Wanda’s voice enters your head and you let go of the slip of paper in your hand. 

“I told you that dress is quite unforgettable,” you remind her. You let go of her hand and start to chat more with the mayor. Now that you know what face Wanda has on tonight, you’re able to relax and focus on the task at hand. The night runs smoothly and you’re able to head home around two in the morning. You hated how long those events could run but it was part of the job. 

Once you’re back in the Avengers Compound, you hide around the corner of Wanda’s room and wait for her to return. It’s a few minutes before she finally arrives and she still has her disguise on her face. She shuffles around in her clutch for the keys to her room and once she disappears from your view, you walk towards her room and swiftly enter before she shuts the door. You lock it behind you and a slow smile grows across her face. 

“I have to give a briefing in half an hour,” she tells you. 

“I guess we’ll have to move fast and keep quiet then,” you tell her as you grab her waist and move her against the wall. You turn the disguise off and peel the layer of technology off of her face. “Hey,” you whisper. 

“Hey,” she whispers with a light giggle. 

You put the disguise in your pocket and quickly remove your jacket and toss it to the floor. Wanda pulls you closer to her by your tie. You lift her leg around your hip and roll against her so she can feel how hard you are for her. You kiss her on the lips, humming at the feel of her soft lips against yours. “I thought you didn’t like champagne,” you say as you taste the beverage on her lips. 

“I don’t but Ana does,” she says as she chases your lips. “We don’t have time for small talk,” she reminds you as she reaches down and pulls your zipper down. She pulls your hard cock out of the fly of your pants. She spits in her hand so she can stroke you and you are both turned on and amused by her eagerness. “I have been thinking about you all day. I hate how we have to keep everything professional,” she mutters as you kiss her neck. 

“One day they won’t keep a watchful eye on us,” you say against her collarbone with your fingers pumping in and out of her. When her walls start to grip your fingers tightly, you know that she is close and you pull your fingers out of her and pull her hand off of you. 

You are quick with your penetration, needing to get this done before they send someone to get her so she can give her report. You slam your hips into her roughly, the way she likes it and she is gripping your shirt as she gets closer and closer to the edge. She bites down on your neck when you thrust deeper inside of her, then she places soft kisses along the accidental teeth marks that she left. You continue to fuck her against the wall until her body spasms and twitches against you. 

You pull out of her without finishing and Wanda smiles at you as she falls to her knees in front of you and licks her juices off of your wet cock. You stroke her cheek as she kisses the base of your cock, leaving red lips on the skin. You don’t even think about the mess of red lipstick that you have all over your face and neck. Wanda licks the tip of your penis a couple of times before she takes you into her mouth. She bobs her head back and forth as she tightens her lips around your cock. 

It doesn’t take much longer until you are blowing your load into her mouth. She swallows every last drop and cleans whatever she doesn’t catch with her finger and sucks it off of her finger. You tuck yourself back into your pants and grab your jacket off of the ground. You straighten yourself out and return the disguise device back to her. 

“I might be a little late to the briefing,” you inform her. “I need to clean my face.” 

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Whatever. I’ll see you then.” 

You sneak your way back into your room, satisfied by the successful mission of getting a moment alone with Wanda. You can’t wait to have the chance again. 

The End.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Unpopular opinion about the Waleses:

I think that there's more going on with Kate than the cancer. I think that between this and all the attacks she's received, not only recently but for the past few years as well (out of everyone in the family, she's the one who's been the most attacked: H&M supporters constantly go after her looks, her marriage, her family, her kids, accusing her of racism, of bullying H&M out of the family), I think she might be mentally exhausted and needed a break from everything, including her royal duties. I get the criticism that she's received, saying that regular people don't have the luxury to stop working but I feel like there's also a case of mental exhaustion

Also, as someone who has deal with people with cancer and has been a caregiver, having cancer is one of these diseases that will make you reevaluate your life, think about what you want and what makes me happy. I don't know how Kate is doing but she's well enough to take the kids to a festival and go to Wimbledon.

As someone who has watched Kate grow since she started dating William to now, she never struck me as someone who is a social climber or desperate to be Queen, like so many people believe. She and William were in the same circle. She could've easily done a Pippa, married a rich aristocrat and lived a rich life without being in the public eye.

And even after she and William got married, she always gave me the vibes of someone who loves being a stay-at-home mum, living peacefully in the countryside. I never thought her (or William for that matter) really liked royal life. Look at how many years it took for them to start solo projects and even then, it looks like they're not really that involved (Heads Together is the perfect example)

Maybe, this health crisis and her finally taking the time to reflect on everything is making her realise that she doesn't really like this life, which is why she hasn't come back to doing engagements, unlike Charles (I know he's the monarch but he's always been very hard-working)

Could be. I know a lot of others that share your opinion.

Something I think is worthwhile to remember is that we’re in the middle of a huge paradigm shift as to what royalty is, what they do, and what they mean, moving from traditional monarchy (best embodied globally by the BRF and Queen Elizabeth) to modern monarchy (which no one really knows what that looks like because we all look to the BRF for that model, despite dozens of other monarchies around the world who have been able to make that transition somewhat successfully). Charles certainly has ideas of what modern monarchy can be, but he’s also a product of traditional monarchy and is still somewhat beholden to those ideals, though his own diagnosis seems to have made him realize there is some merit to a modern, scaled back approach.

To which I think is the “between a rock and a hard place” that William and Kate are in - as the face of “modern monarchy,” they’ve had to do a lot of work figuring out what that looks like, and what they seemed to have settled on is quality over quantity, and their focus is quality of everything - quality of life, quality of work, quality of health, quality of engagement. And I think we’re seeing that in their joint decision to let Kate have the time and space she needs to heal not just physically but mentally as well.

Which is an uncomfortable notion because we’re used to a royalty that “has to be seen to be believed.”

The flip side of your argument about Heads Together and how uninvolved they are today is “well, that’s totally the point.” It goes back to William’s approach to charity work; he wants to train, teach, help the locals to do this work. He gives them the seed money or the initial support to launch, but then he backs out of it, turning the reigns over to the locals or the experts, which has a far greater chance of long-term success because then you’re addressing systemic challenges. (Which is the opposite of Harry’s approach, which is that it needs to be fixed right now, so flood the system with everything and everyone you need to eradicate the immediate problem, take credit for that, then take your money and experts somewhere else and leave the locals unable to do anything except watch the problem redevelop or worsen, because you haven’t taught them what to do. The brothers have butted heads over this and it’s something often discussed by the Royal rota in their books.) So again, it’s a conscious choice by William to prioritize quality over quantity; making sure to invest in the people involved in his initiatives to address issues at the core root.

But at the end of the day, there is no right or wrong answer at what’s going on. It’s just change. And change is uncomfortable because it makes “what we’re used to” different. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that change and different is bad. We just don’t know. And we won’t know until William gets a chance to effect his plans.

As for Kate, she signed up to be William’s wife and accepted that the crown comes with it. She’ll show up when she needs to because that’s the woman she is; when it matters the most, she’ll be there. Yes, it matters somewhat now to a lot of people, but it’s doesn’t matter the most right now. It’ll be okay.

And if it isn’t, if things change and Kate doesn’t show up when she critically needs to, we’ll worry about it then. But for now, let’s take her at her own words that sometimes she has bad days and sometimes she has good days and when she’s having a good day, she wants to make the most of it. She had a good day this weekend and went out with her family and had a good time. Is she not allowed to do that? Are all cancer patients or all people with major health issues not allowed to enjoy their good days when they have them? Because if so, someone better let the Make A Wish Foundation, and all wish charities, know they need to shut down since sick people aren’t allowed to have fun.

[skrrts]

Heart's Contradiction Series * Choi San (mature!)

✧ afab!reader x choi san ✧ reader is a journalist, san is CEO of a construction company, both in their late 20s ✧ genre: non-idol, soulmates, villains, romance, business drama, angst ✧ word count: 12,6k ✧ warnings: adult language, rude coworkers, insults, threats, injuries, eating/food, mention of the death of a family member, aggressive violent crowd, suggestive moment, mention of corrupt politics, pressure, she/her use for reader by others ✧ inspired by this playlist ; track: neon lights - pim stones

in a world where finding your soulmate is everyone's highest goal, there is more at stake than just finding love. your soulmate is meant to change your life forever, for better or worse. what will you do when, after searching for so long, you come to realize that your soulmate is seen as the villain in somebody else's story, maybe even your own? choi san is the ceo of "mountain rise constructors", the number one in your country. it's no secret that his firm threatened and forced many neighborhoods to sell their homes for the sake of building new cityscapes. you are a journalist dreaming of writing about deep stories and dread being picked for a dull interview with mister choi. the least you expected was for, after all this time of waiting for your soulmate, to find out that it's no other than the infamous "villain of the common citizens". suddenly, you are dealing with not only him but also what it means to be fated to be with somebody all those around you seem to reject.

         everything is strictly fictional! no connection to any real people!

a/n: welcome to the first of three one-shots to the theme "villain and soulmates". for san, i decided to go with a corruptive CEO genre but it's not too detailed. the focus is on dealing with how the public sees your soulmate and how you decide in the end, if you care more for that or him. i put lots of work into this so, hope you like it 🫶

Everyone had a soulmate somewhere out there, but not everyone was chosen to find them.

It seemed ironic that a man of wealth and power was denied the promise of love. So many looked at him in envy for having it all, except for that one thing everyone longed for the most. The every day people found it so quickly, yet here he was, slowly approaching his 30s, still missing that one thing.

No money in the world could give him that, not until his one would somehow find their way into his life. It was cruel because fate needed to bring you together. It required a touch, one that only needed to be brief, for the mark of souls to finally appear on top of your hand, showing you the person who would finally complete you.

Every soul was quietly longing for its counterpart, even the soul of a man like Choi San.

Maybe even more so him, a man constantly surrounded by those who hated him, those who only wanted his money and others seeking success.

A brief knock forced his gaze to withdraw from the large window front showing the stunning new city center his company had built over the past two and a half years, a gift to the mayor in favor of Mountain Rise Constructors.

His assistant bowed as she placed a file on his desk.

“Mister Choi, I have completed the selection of magazines and newspapers that would be suited for your interview intentions. They are unrelated to our company and affiliates but likely see great benefit in cooperating with us. I have already prepared a request indicating that you will support free speech and include the thoughts of the citizens. You only need to choose one.”

Recently, voices had been loud about how all the newspaper articles in favor of the company were somehow connected to them, and while San did not necessarily care, he was willing to play along a little.

He flipped through the selection and pulled out one.

For a moment, his gaze lingered on the photo of the interviewer his assistant suggested. She really cared for even the smallest details, including who likely wouldn’t dare to be too nosy.

“Let’s go with this one,” he forced his gaze away.

“Schedule it for tomorrow evening; it should not interfere with my flight to New York.”

San turned around again, looking back out of the window, ignoring how the woman bowed.

“As you wish, I will prepare everything.”

The door closed, and San’s thumb brushed over the spot where his soul mark was still missing.

“What the fuck? She didn’t invite you because you haven’t found your soulmate yet? What a bitch!” Mingi blared out, causing the closer tables to look at yours.

Yunho was quick to tug on his best friend’s jacket. “Shh, don’t be so loud!”

The younger one huffed.

“What about it? Let them look! It’s so rude. We should all support each other in finding our soulmates, not act like we’re better just because we were desperate and touched every hand until it came out positive!”

Jongho furrowed his brows slightly as he sipped on his drink. “I don’t even see why anyone would be disappointed not to get an invitation. As for myself, I am quite delighted I can spend a wonderful weekend all relaxed and by myself.”

You watched in amusement as your friends discussed the situation. It helped not to think too deeply about it. All of you worked for a local newspaper — not the biggest, but it was doing okay.

Your boss's favorite journalist recently found her soulmate and now was throwing a big wedding party, inviting almost everyone except those who had yet to find their soulmates, leaving only you and Jongho.

You were a little envious of how relaxed he was, in no rush, believing that waiting was just part of the journey for him.

“It’s okay, she never liked me, and I think that wouldn’t have been any different even if I’d found mine,” you shrugged casually.

Yunho sighed before smiling: “I’m sure it’s all part of the picture. Just wait, she’ll be so jealous by the time you find the one. No doubt, they will be as great as you.”

Mingi gave the older one a small shove, chuckling. “Always big with the words, Mister 'Found Mine at Age Seventeen.'” Yunho blushed, but all of you ended up laughing.

“Anyway, I have to get back. Thanks for hanging out with me. I’m looking forward to reading your concert feedback.”

You waved them goodbye and headed back to your office together with Jongho, who returned to his own desk. You had barely sat down when your boss looked out of his office, seemingly annoyed, glaring at you.

Why was it that everything about newspaper jobs only picked up the bad clichés from movies but not a single cool one? This was never how you imagined it to go after graduating from journalism school. You wanted to travel, see the world, and report on real stories, not changes in the neighborhood nobody cared about.

He hinted for you to close the door to his office. You didn’t hide your displeasure at being interrupted like that after lunch, especially when you had only had a meeting right before that.

“Minjae will take over the news story about the struggles with the local stray cats. I’ve got something else for you.”

You made a face. After almost begging not to get another one of those stories and being told to remind yourself how every story mattered, now he just wanted to take it away?

“But I’m as good as done! I’ve written the draft, I even prepared the photos!”

Your complaint was ignored, and he threw a file toward you.

“You should thank me! If you do well with this, it might be your way to switch departments!” His voice was more angry than supportive, making you doubtful.

As you opened the file and read over it, you were sure he really must hate you. This was punishment more than anything.

“You can’t be serious! You want me to run an interview with THE Choi San from construction company? First, why the fuck would he want to work with us? And second, did you see what happened to the last journalists who interviewed him? They either lost any respect because they were practically begging on their knees for his attention or were roasted by him so badly that everyone doubted they were cut out for the job!”

You pointed at the paper.

“And tomorrow? This isn’t even twenty-four hours to prepare! It would take days!”

The man was clicking on his computer, typing letters that never formed real words. He was obviously trying to get rid of you.

“Consider it a challenge. If you master this, everyone will respect you, and you’ll be able to pick the stories you want to write about. That’s all. You may go.”

You stared at him, imagining how a hole would open and he’d disappear inside. But when nothing changed, you growled and left, making your way home where you’d have some time to sit down and whine about the cruelty of the world.

Fate was cruel, it made your job horrible and allowed everyone to mock you for not having a soulmate — someone to comfort and support you.

At least you had Sandeoki. The grey cat was the only soulmate you needed; she didn’t make any stupid requests and certainly supported your single existence.

It was the cliché story: the small family business turning into one of the largest and most successful construction companies in the entire world throughout three generations, not only active in one but several countries with ties to the political world.

Choi San’s father was the one who made big changes, and his son successfully adapted to the modern world, understanding the balance required to deal with changing demands. It was one perfect story if one ignored how hundreds of families were forcefully chased away from their generational homes to replace them with modern buildings with rents only the upper class could afford.

It was no surprise how most were far too terrified to write sincere articles about this man, not when he had so much influence that he could make sure you lost your job within a blink and likely shut down an entire magazine in less than a day if he wasn’t pleased with your choice of words.

The article was meant to summarize the reconstruction of the city center, highly praised by architects and the press alike but rejected by everyday citizens. A local park, which had been there for more than fifteen years, had been erased in favor of a massive fountain, food stalls, and modern sitting areas. Your boss wanted to get into this man’s good graces; it would be beneficial for the newspaper to be blessed by Choi San.

How was it that you couldn’t entirely deny that there was at least a hint of fear? You worked too hard to get here and endured too many awful stories to lose all chances of ever becoming the journalist you wanted to be. The feisty ten-year-old who played reporter every day after school was long gone.

You tried to excuse yourself with the reminder that you wanted to tell stories, not interview rich men with too much money, asking for a report on their work to boost their ego.

It seemed a little disrespectful that the interview was located in the VIP section of the airport, which was locked off just for this man. You were told he had to leave for an important business trip right after.

Tch, rich prick.

You refused to dress up, instead wearing a pair of jeans, a casual blouse, and your hair tied up, with a pair of glasses balanced at the end of your nose as you read your notes for a final time. It was your way of rebelling when he decided to act like that.

A woman walked in, dressed in a skirt and blouse, with no doubt that her shoes cost more than your entire outfit.

“Thank you for waiting. Mister Choi is now ready for the interview. You have thirty minutes; there will be no time to extend it as he has a flight to catch. We have reviewed your questions, and they have been accepted. We expect the draft of the interview before publishing by the end of the week.”

You were a little surprised to hear they actually did not reject the spicier ones you included but weren’t sure you would dare to actually ask.

The woman stepped aside, tilting her head: “Mister Choi.”

The moment he walked in, you couldn’t deny the presence and authority he portrayed. It wasn’t just the perfectly tailored suit or the styled-back black hair but also something in his eyes. The coat indicated he was about to travel, but the fact he wore black leather clothes seemed a little strange in the middle of summer.

He offered you a gloved hand. Oh great, did he think you were some bacteria? You squeezed it briefly.

“You must be Y/N. I appreciate you were able to make it here.”

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore that weird smile on his lips. There was nothing wrong with it, but maybe you were too biased now, trying to find him unpleasant.

“Thank you for choosing our newspaper for the article. We appreciate your time,” you kept it casual, staring down at your notes as it seemed he was looking at your face.

“The construction of the new city center has only recently been completed, and there will be a large celebration in its honor in a few weeks. What was your inspiration for going with this design?”

You didn’t care about the answer. He likely had been asked this several times before.

His gaze was glued to you, staring like he was trying to read your thoughts.

No, you would not be one of those reporters who got intimidated by him! Not after less than ten minutes in his presence. To think he could make you feel that way just by staring.

“The face of the city is ever-changing, and all buildings around it have long been replaced by cityscapes. We can pride ourselves on some of the best constructions in the world for a capital. Not only is our design one that will not be unpleasant in ten years, but we also have incorporated natural materials and created around seven hundred new workplaces, which have all been maintained. Now, the center is in harmony with its surroundings.”

Yunho always said, if you felt intimidated, just imagine the other person in a silly outfit.

He was too fucking hot to do that.

He did look a bit like your cat though. The thought made you cough, and he furrowed his brows for a moment.

“Excuse me… The harmony between the new center and the surrounding buildings cannot be denied. However, it came at the cost of the park, a beloved spot for families for almost fifteen years. The new construction only has limited plants, and there is no place for families. How do you deal with that feedback?”

He still smiled.

God, you wanted to poke his cheek to see if he would stop smiling like that! It was what you did when your cat would glare at you for denying her a second dinner.

“Our design was one of many, and the mayor had the final say in the selection. She has done so in the best interest of the city. As with every construction, it is impossible to please everyone, but the truth is also that families have long since moved to more comfortable parts of the city, and we are currently working to build a new park double the size not too far from the old one. The trees, in fact, were all secured and will be relocated.”

He talked too smoothly, everything was aligned. Maybe it was because he knew very well he had already won; people would eventually shut up, and nothing would change.

The rich always won. This was why you never wanted to be a reporter; those stories made no change, only frustration.

“Your company’s growth has been impressive. You recently opened another center in Japan. What would you say is your secret to success?”

Here, butter yourself with compliments, Sannie Cat! He would look cute with cat ears though. Urgh Please!

“I still think of us as a family business. Trust in those we work with—without knowledgeable people and experts, it wouldn’t have been doable.”

As if, the success came with the money!

The next question slipped out before you even thought it through because it was not on the list you had to hand in prior.

“You are one of the most successful men in the world, your career is truly admirable, but you have yet to find the one thing everyone is looking for: your soulmate. Would you say this affects your projects, or does your business benefit from your full attention?”

You raised your brow and felt way too cool just because you could read the surprise on his face.

Surely, nobody ever dared to call him out like that, but to this man’s demise, it was public knowledge that he did not have a soulmate

Mister Choi actually needed a moment before his demeanor was collected again, and for a second, you felt as if he was even amused.

“I admit, this is a unique question I have not considered before. My company is my pride and the center of my life; my attention is fully dedicated to it. But looking at my parents, my friends, their soulmates always added to their lives rather than asking for sacrifices. I am sure that mine won’t be different.”

You scratched your left hand; it kept itching. Maybe it was the stress.

“A little bit of a romantic then, hoping for somebody who will just close their eyes.”

You were digging your own grave here; you were just too proud now to go back or maybe it was too late.

“Maybe somebody bold to challenge me instead, keeping me engaged” he offered.

“The time is up,” the assistant stepped in, and you were about to complain that it had not been thirty minutes, but he rose, and there was nothing you could do.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I admit, I am curious about your report,” while polite, you could sense that slight mock in his voice. You barely had enough to write about what you came for.

He only gave you a slight bow before walking off; you could only stare after him before hissing.

“Prick! Pft, thinking how I dared to think he looks like my precious kitten!”

“I am very sorry, Mister Choi. I did not expect her to be so feisty. I have taken a careful look, and based on my research, she is known for always sticking to the script,” the woman apologized, but San did not care too much.

He relaxed back into the seat of his private jet, pulling off the gloves from his hands.

“It’s alright. I do enjoy a little change now and then. It grows boring if they only try to get my favor. It’s punishment enough that it will barely make enough for an article. Let's leave it there.”

San shrugged out of his cloak and picked up his phone while the pilot was preparing for the flight. He’d have preferred to wear something more comfortable, but there were just too many schedules waiting for him — another sleepless night surrounded by people seeking his support or, more so, his money.

It was tiring, but he could barely act like he wasn’t used to it. Maybe it was how the lines all blurred, how nothing really seemed threatening anymore, nor did he understand why the public complained when he only did his job, hired by those they voted for.

He scratched his hand thoughtfully; it had been itching for the past half hour.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” his assistant asked.

Could she never just give him some peace?

“Yes, it’s nothing,” he replied and looked at his hand.

On the back of his right hand, a symbol appeared: a small moon surrounded by what seemed to be thorns.

For a moment, all San could do was stare at it.

As a boy, he had spent hours holding his mother’s hand, looking at her soul mark, asking why it looked the way it did. She would tell him that it always resembled the personalities of the soulmates, perfectly in sync even if not always clear in sight.

His head shot up, his heart beating loud enough to ring in his ears as he desperately went through every person he had encountered in the past two hours since putting on his gloves.

It was silly because he knew the answer; only a single person had squeezed his hand.

“Stop the flight!” His voice rolled like thunder through the airplane, and he only bothered to grab his phone and coat.

The staff of the jet and his assistant could only stare in confusion as Choi San rushed out.

He had finally found his soulmate.

You weren’t what he had expected, but it wouldn’t matter.

No, San had made that decision a long time ago.

He trusted fate. This person was his fate.

He would take his soulmate as their way, because surely they would do the same for him. Wasn't that why nature creatured this type of bond to begin with?

To find comfort and security, love, in a world that was anything but kind.

There was no way he’d let you go now that you had finally arrived.

“I am waiting for my wink of fate,” you sighed into the phone, Jongho listening calmly as you reported about the interview.

It seemed a little unfair: in movies, now was the time when the life of the protagonist turned around. Suddenly, there would be a real job opportunity, and a wink of fate would reveal the best friend to be the true love of their life, previously overlooked, after some big asshole ruined the day.

However, in those fictional worlds, people chose their lovers, which wasn’t how it went here. Sure, those without soulmates had affairs and desires that needed to be fed, but it was not the same. Nothing could live up to the completeness your soulmate made you feel. At least, that was what everyone said, from your parents to your friends.

“You worry too much. As for the interview, I can write you a decent intro and we’ll just sell it as a documentary story. Don’t stress about it,” Jongho reassured you on the other side of the line.

“You are the best, did I tell you that?” you sighed, thankful for his support, even though you knew you brought this on yourself by being the most unprofessional you had ever been.

You were leaning against your car in front of the airport when a figure started to appear in the distance. You paid attention because, as a journalist, you learned to look out for details that did not fit, and the way this person moved indicated they were looking for something in a great rush.

As you stared, you kept scratching your hand, listening to Jongho, who was telling you something about your boss after you left the office yesterday.

It took you a moment to realize that the figure rushing toward you was none other than Choi San.

“Fuck,” the word slipped out before you thought about it, and Jongho grew silent.

“What happened?” Jongho sounded alarmed.

“The fucking CEO… he’s walking towards me. Shit, I swear he was in a rush and I did not provoke him that much. Ah, I better get going! Talk to you later.”

“If I don’t hear from you by the evening, I’ll call the police,” you heard Jongho say as you threw your bag on the passenger seat and slipped into the driver’s seat.

The moment your door closed, there he was. You could see a mixture of relief and concern on his face when he found you. You stared in disbelief as the fancy-dressed man, whose hair now seemed a little messed up like he had run his hands through it too often, placed himself right in front of your car.

“I need to talk to you. Now.” His voice struggled between a dominant approach, likely from shouting commands to his staff, and attempting to be… soft?

What the hell was this all about?

“Get out of my way,” you said, your hand indicating for him to move, but instead, he leaned forward, getting comfortable on your bonnet like a bartender relaxing against his bar while talking to a customer.

At this point, you realized that he was likely doing his very best to force you out of the car. Now your thoughts were running wild, trying to remember if you ever heard a story of this guy going after interviewers, but no, he was too good for that. He just used other people to wash out the dirt.

You exhaled and finally decided to get your bravery back and got out of the car.

“Mister Choi, if you’re suddenly freaking out about that interview, there is no reason to. While I let my professionalism slip for a moment, I have no intentions to write about your personal life…”

He made it to your side by the time you prepared a speech and found yourself pinned against the car. Suddenly, this guy seemed much taller than he did half an hour ago.

“What are you… doing?”

His breath tickled your skin, and for a moment, he was looking at your face before, more tenderly than you expected, reaching out for your left hand.

“I knew it.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling strange. The way your body suddenly reacted to him was odd, and your eyes lowered a little.

“I don’t… what are you talking about?”

San’s face turned, and he looked at you, turning your hand around.

After all this time, years of forcing yourself not to shake any hand just with the hope of finding your soulmate like that anymore, you stopped to stare at the spot that was meant to carry it.

How did you not notice that a mark appeared?!

The man entwined his fingers with yours and turned them around so you could comfortably see how his matched with yours: a moon surrounded by thorns.

Science had failed to explain soulmates, the marks, or the way how every pair was affected differently by it. It was only certain that they all shared a deep bond of trust, which could be challenging when the people affected were more distrustful in their general nature.

“You… are my soulmate?”

Oh great, you should not have joked about waiting for your protagonist moment. Nobody told you that getting the villain was a possibility.

“Let’s go.”

San simply skipped your reply, and before you knew it, a firm hand held you and pulled you along. You were glad now to be one of those silly people who always carried their phone around their body because otherwise, you’d be gone without anything.

“Hold on, what are you doing? Mister Choi! You cannot just drag me away!”

To your surprise, he stopped and turned around.

“San. There is no reason for us to bother with titles and surnames,” he simply replied.

So this man, one of the richest in the world, just figured out you were his soulmate, and it was just okay… you would have expected somebody like him to be disappointed, maybe judge a little.

You almost would have preferred it because it would have made fighting back easier.

“Mis… San, can we like slow down for a moment? You realized we are soulmates and just ditched that flight that was so important just an hour ago?”

You tried to phrase words that would distract you from the loud heartbeat in your chest.

“Nothing is more important than you now. I have waited patiently for you to finally show. Business meetings can be rescheduled, but I need to first take care of you. I do not see where the issue is. As it is custom in our society, two soulmates naturally belong to one another. We are fated, so there should be no concern for you. We will move on and return home, we can discuss everything else there.”

He was already back on the move when the words slowly sunk in. San really just took the hardcore route of the soulmate system and considered you went from zero to one hundred within less than five minutes too.

“Home? Please, hold on!”

This time, your tug was firmer, and a frustrated growl left his lips as he stopped again and fully turned to you, yet his hand almost felt desperate like you could vanish should he let go.

“I do not understand why you would reject it! Did you not wait for me? Have you not yearned to finally be completed too?”

His words hit you, and for a moment, you just stared.

Of course, you did, you always wanted to get home and have somebody waiting for you, who would kiss you and hold you, love only you just the way you were, and you had forced yourself to act like it was fine, that you could live without it while everyone around you got just that.

But was this how you wanted it to go?

“Of course I waited, all the time! I just… need a moment to let this settle. You just rushed here, yelled at me that this is it, and now you are kidnapping me.”

The word made him frown; he was obviously confused by your reaction, but before he could speak up again, a fancy car appeared.

The door opened, and from the backseat, a very handsome man about the same age stepped out, his long hair tied in a bun with a suit matching it perfectly, though he wore a shirt rather than a button-up.

“Wooyoung,” San sighed, his body relaxed a little, but he was still holding your hand.

“My my, you made quite a fuss. What kind of security guard am I if you just run away like that? Tell me,” he chuckled and looked at you, his dark eyes scanning over your appearance before he smiled.

“Miss Y/N, it is my pleasure to meet you,” he bowed playfully. “I am Jung Wooyoung, head of security for the Choi family. We have waited for you for quite some time, but please relax and know we are already making preparations to find the most suitable arrangements for you.”

Oh great, everyone around you had turned insane now.

“She doesn’t want me!”

You didn’t expect San to sound so pitiful when he looked away, Wooyoung looked in confusion, blinking before chuckling.

“Ah, I see. I’m starting to get an idea of how this went,” he looked from the CEO back to you.

“You might not think it, but San and I grew up together. He can be a little… direct. Please, let me apologize on his behalf. May I make a suggestion? Let me drive the both of you to that restaurant which is quite popular right now. We’ll arrange for some privacy, and you two can talk properly.”

At least one man was mature… you looked up at San, who seemed tense, awaiting your answer.

“Fine, let’s do that. I did not reject him, I merely disagree with being kidnapped.”

"I didn't want to kidnap you, I was taking you to my place. How can a soulmate kidnap his partner?!"

San was about to further counter, but Wooyoung already opened the car, indicating for you to get in.

“I won’t let go of your hand,” San replied, looking away.

You sighed, shaking your head: “Fine then.”

Without hesitation, you pulled him along, and you found yourself sitting inside the most luxurious car you had ever seen.

You swallowed hard as the vehicle moved, leaving your own car and the airport behind, with a hand suddenly clinging desperately to you.

The drive felt like an eternity. San was staring out of the window without letting go of your hand for even a second. It was as if he hoped to find an answer there, a way of clearing his confusion about why you were so resistant to the bond.

Years ago, when he still hadn't found his soulmate, he made a pact with himself to be accepting of his, no matter who it was. He simply had to believe fate would choose somebody right for him and in return, he’d be acceptable.

No, he held no intentions of asking you to change. San did not want you to dress or act differently. If anything, his words during the interview had been sincere. He liked the idea of his soulmate not just giving in to everything he said but having an opinion of their own.

As playful and cheeky as Wooyoung was, by the time they arrived, everything was perfectly planned and prepared. He’d have to give his best friend a quiet thanks later. While it was true that they came from very different backgrounds, the younger always had been his companion, understanding of San’s nature but never too shy to put him back in place if needed.

San was hesitant to let go of your hand by the time the two of you made it to the table but gave in, taking off his coat as he finally attempted to fix his hair.

He watched you carefully, as it seemed this was the first time you had been taken to such a place. If not for his worry about being rejected by you, he’d have enjoyed how endearing you looked.

“I recommend the truffle-infused chicken breast with wild mushroom risotto. It pairs nicely with a glass of Château Margaux,” he cleared his throat.

You looked at him for a moment before laughing. His cheeks heated up when he saw how you tried to hide it. It was strange; he was seemingly rushing through emotions he had never experienced before like this.

“I've never been to a place like this before. I think the fanciest I ever have been was some American grill Dad took us to after being promoted at his bank job. Only the higher ranks at the newspapers go to places like this.”

San paid close attention to every little detail you were willing to share with him.

“I only understood half of it but yes, it sounds lovely. I’ll take that.”

The waiter interrupted, and San decided to order the same for the two of you. He poured you a glass of water before doing so himself, leading it to his lips. Patience was difficult when it came to everything truly important to him.

You, on the other hand, seemed very different. You were quick and bold but without a rush. San’s gaze met yours; it was hard not to constantly look at you.

“So, how do you imagine this going? I move into your place, quit my job, and become your spouse? I’m not sure if I am made to be the one on the side of one of the world’s most successful businessmen. I know nothing about those things. I always cared more for heart-moving stories than money and such…”

As much as you tried to make it sound like a joke, San was able to read on your face that there was a hint of worry this might be accurate.

“Well, yes. My penthouse, as well as our other properties, are large enough for you to have your own rooms. That way we can comfortably get to know each other while still maintaining some privacy. There will be no rush to get married. I believe once the both of us enter the age of thirty, it will be an excellent timing.”

There was a brief pause as the wine was served and he nodded.

“There is no need for you to know our business. If you desire to learn, I will teach you but I will consider you my adviser either way. However, you are my soulmate, not my slave. I won’t ask you to quit your job or to stop doing things that bring you joy.”

He swallowed the commentary on how the newspapers you worked at were garbage and at least, you should let him help you to find a better one.

San took a sip as you seemed to contemplate everything he just told you.

“Did you really think I would demand you give up your entire life to fulfill the role of my spouse?” he placed the glass on the table.

You were blushing now, trying to find your words. It was really interesting how your personality often seemed so counterproductive to your occupation as a journalist.

“Maybe? I’m not sure… I guess, I just expected that you would tell me I cannot do it anymore, that I had to change everything.”

Ah, he had always been prepared for this kind of scenario as well. He knew what kind of picture was painted of him in the media but San could not entirely deny that parts of it were true, maybe more than his soulmate would like.

“Well, there will be some changes. For one, you will be given a security guard of your own. Wooyoung will choose somebody together with you, that way it is someone you trust and feel comfortable with. Once the public learns of you being my soulmate, it would be too dangerous to be without one. You will become a target for those who wish for me to be gone.”

It was a strange moment to watch your expression slip while the food was served and slowly, it seemed to settle in what it would really mean to be with him. San wished he could just take your hand and promise you that everything would be alright.

“Y/N, nobody will ever harm you. I swear that by all I have achieved and my own life. I was sincere when I said, you are now the most important part of my life and I will see it through that you are safe and happy, no matter the cost.”

His words made you feel safe but also confused. So far, you only dealt with the imagination of what it would be like to become Mrs. Choi, from the sudden wealth to the general public position. But you did not think about the possibility that anyone would try to harm you. Was San’s business really so threatening that people would go to the lengths of trying to kill… you?

For a moment, you recalled something you had stumbled over. Officially, the previous Miss Choi was said to have died of sudden illness but there was a story of how she was killed to get to her husband and shortly after her death, San's father indeed withdrew from the business. You decided this was not the time and place to ask such personal questions.

The food smelled delicious and under other circumstances, this would have been like heaven but the topic was too heavy to find your appetite.

“So let’s say I agree. I move in with you and we choose a guard that maybe could be more low-key. You’d still let me spend time with my friends and go to work every day?”

It was hard to tell if San forced himself to eat just to keep himself busy or if he tried to give you a feeling of normality while you discussed the rest of your life. Everything was so sudden, from believing you would likely never find your soulmate to facing the truth that now you did, your life would drastically change.

Unlike San, you weren’t ready just to act like you had been together for ages.

Right?

He was handsome, there was no doubt. It made you wonder what he would look like in the morning, without products in his hair, all sleepy, and just loose clothes clinging to his muscular body.

Ugh, you should not have looked at all those photos last night. It had been easy to ignore it when it was just some interview you prepared for, but to imagine now that the same guy intended to marry and spend the rest of his life with you was a very different story.

Suddenly, you wanted to see him smile. If you thought about it, you didn’t see him smile a single time. There had been an amused chuckle but that had been it. Maybe that was it? You needed to see him just being himself, without the worries and facade of the CEO of a construction empire.

You placed the fork down and stood up, taking a big gulp from the wine before you moved over. He watched you with interest which quickly turned into confusion when suddenly, you dropped down onto his lap.

“What are you doing?” he tilted his head like a curious cat and suddenly, you thought maybe it had been telling that he did remind you of your cat. Pets knew best.

“You know, you look like my cat. You even share a name, well partly anyway.” Your arms curled around his neck and you saw him blink in confusion, cheeks taking a deeper red.

“Like your cat?”

“Mhm, she’s the cutest. Also my soulmate, you will have to share but I feel, you might win her over. You just have to meow at her.”

San was trying to figure out if you were serious, yet his arms had curled around your figure to ensure you would be safe and not fall off him.

You chuckled and gave his cheek a gentle poke: “I am joking but I believe, you will be okay.”

There was a sigh but finally, a small smile. Something softer without that serious expression he carried all the time.

“You really are something, Y/N.”

San was holding still when your hands rested against his cheek, carefully brushing over his warm skin and you allowed yourself to admire him for a moment, giving him the chance to do the same.

There was a quiet longing to kiss, you really wanted to but the door to the room opened again and dessert was brought in.

The two of you looked a little shy, trying to ignore the curious glance of the waiter as you returned to your seat and finished eating. San asked you casual questions: why you decided to work for the newspaper, how it had been your desire in the first place, and where you would like to travel someday.

In return, he gave you small answers, while seemingly, for a man who portrayed such confidence around strangers, did not enjoy talking about himself.

“I will give you two a moment,” Wooyoung winked. “I will see you tomorrow, Miss Y/N. I think I have a good idea of who would be a perfect fit for you. In the morning, we will send a more… toned-down car to get you to work. I know this is a big change but please cooperate with us. I promise, we soon will find a more comfortable solution.”

You bowed: “Thank you, I appreciate your efforts! Oh and, just call me by my name. I’d prefer that.”

The head of security grinned and gave his boss a small glare. San suddenly seemed a little shy as he walked you to your door.

“I will have to deal with my business partners but I should be free the day after tomorrow. Maybe we can go out… somewhere more… to your taste. You have my number, text me any time and call if you wish… I’d like that.”

You nodded again, thinking how it was cute.

“Mh, I will come up with something fun! Get some sleep, yeah? You look tired.”

For a moment, you leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek but when he was so close, looking fondly at you, something inside of you finally gave in.

Instead, your arms curled around his neck once more and this time, it was a real kiss. San was almost tense but slowly, returned it with the same curiosity. A soft gasp left your lips when they parted.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, smiling.

As you unlocked the door and stepped in, he finally gave you another smile.

“Sleep well,” he bowed and turned around. You watched him take down the stairs, looking around before getting inside of the car and after a moment, they were gone.

“I had the wildest day!” you called out but your beloved pet was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t be pouty, your dinner comes automatically out of this overpriced machine I bought.”

You mumbled and changed into another pair of clothes when suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

When you opened it, you made a mental note to remind yourself not to do it so recklessly considering you were about to get a bodyguard, something that still sounded insane.

You blinked, surprised to see Jongho standing there together with two police officers.

Shit, you totally forgot about that.

“You really are the best friend ever,” you mumbled as Jongho frowned and you bowed, apologizing for the misunderstanding.

You explained to Jongho what happened, and as always, he proved not only to be the best friend but also the wisest. It made sense not to go into details about just who your soulmate was towards others, and he even sighed, agreeing that he could see why San was worried about your safety.

At work, there were whispers about how you finally found somebody. Some couldn't mind their own manners, making jokes about how it must be quite a disappointment if you refused to show them a photo, unlike everyone else who just met the person belonging to their soul. Mingi was a little pouty about being refused details as well, but you promised all of them you would explain it soon enough. It felt more difficult to hide it from your parents, who seemed to have given up on their child’s love life.

Wooyoung kept his promise and found somebody that really suited your personality: Seonghwa was considerably new in the business, and he didn’t look like a security guard, but maybe that was why he was perfect. You grew fond of him quickly; he was sweet and funny, taking your worries sincerely and seemingly enjoying his ‘undercover job’ at the newspaper as an editor.

You were surprised when he dropped you off at the zoo, handed you a ticket, and told you to go to the lions. The small wink indicated this was another one of San’s sudden dates. There had been a few in the past two weeks, but most of them were too short. A small dinner here, a trip to the museum after closing hours there. He always was in a rush because of his business, and the two of you started to struggle with the separation. At least, you quite felt so when he hugged you for a moment longer than intended you stared until his car wasn't to be seen anymore.

It was odd just how fast you adapted to him, how much you yearned to be close, but you remained stubborn. For some reason, you read that ten dates make a good number before anything should be serious, and while it wasn’t like you weren’t made for each other, you just wanted to do something like everyone else before you moved into his penthouse and lived the rest of your life under the public’s watchful eyes.

San looked different today, quite so. He wore a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a loose shirt, his hair falling in soft waves around his features. Ever since you told him how you’d like to see it like that, he put effort into keeping it natural around you.

He was pretty as he stood there, waiting for you, looking at the giant cats.

Everything seemed perfect, but there was this glooming feeling in your stomach how it just went too smoothly. Just a few weeks ago, you had a low opinion of this man, and now you were here, like a lovesick puppy, waiting for him to notice you.

Was it the magic of the soulmate bond that changed it? Did you start to see what else there was besides the harsh businessman that still came through when he thought you weren’t there yet, or were you simply prejudiced before you learned who he would be in your life?

San turned around and your gazes met, his lips quickly turning into a smile. He walked over to you and reached for your hands, placing a kiss on them. So old-fashioned, but you liked it.

“I worried you wouldn’t come. You look lovely. The new haircut suits you well.” He was eager to compliment you and you exhaled, smiling.

“Well, that sounds more like a description meant for you. I almost didn’t recognize you,” you winked, and he glared a little, looking away for a moment.

“Well, so far our dates always have been off from the public… I guessed it would be nice to take you out like this, but people would recognize me too quickly. This way, I hope they will not.”

He took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Shall we walk a little? I was not sure what animals you might like.”

You liked how much thought he was putting into it, taking your wishes and preferences into consideration. You squeezed his hand back, smiling.

“I haven’t been here since I was twelve, so maybe we can just walk around without any specific destination?”

San nodded, and the two of you began your walk. If anyone had asked you, the zoo would not have been a place you’d have picked for a date, but it was quite enjoyable. Families, school classes, and other couples went by as you took the time to watch animals you knew and some that seemed to be a more recent addition.

After a while, you got tired and San told you to sit down, leaving you for a moment to get ice cream.

As you sat there and waited, you heard noises not too far away — angry shouts and a small crowd gathering. You were confused; this was not exactly a place where you would expect something like that to happen.

As you walked closer, you realized they had gathered around San, who was picking up his wallet, ice cream crashed on the floor.

“I can’t believe that somebody like him would dare to come to a place like this!” an elderly woman yelled, pointing at him.

“Do you intend to also take this away from our children? Maybe you want to build another one of your damned city towers here?!”

Some agreed, mainly older people; some teenagers were giggling, smartphones up to film it. San seemed awfully calm as he took out his own phone until somebody threw a full plastic bottle. Your soulmate managed to dodge it, but it led to the crack of his phone's display, and finally, you could see something within his cool broke.

“You stand here, whining and yelling. If you want some change, how about you start and do something yourself?” he asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

“How dare you?! My brother worked day and night to afford the little house, put his health and money into making something his children later could have, but then you decided you needed to tear it down to place apartments on top nobody can afford!”

San hissed, a hint of amusement on his lips.

“I did. Yet, all of them accepted money, and the majority received more than this old piece of land was even worth.”

The anger grew louder as they felt provoked by his words: “My sister showed me the letter! When she refused, the living circumstances became unbearable. Electricity kept disappearing, cut off from the phone and even water! We all have seen the reports on that one news channel not scared of you; people confessed they did it because they were paid to! Do you deny it?”

You exhaled because you remembered it. A year ago, it was in the news for some time, just on the smaller channels, shortly after the election, but like all news, it vanished. People were always quick to move on until something reminded them.

“I do not deny it,” San said: "I set the changes in motion you all blame me for and maybe, not all went the way it should have. But how instead of blaming those who barely only do their job, you look at yourself? Each and every building set up, the city council decided over and the city council is the one that hires my company. We design and establish it but we are not the owner. YOU all are the ones who voted for those who gave orders to chase your families away. So before you start so cowardly to act out of envy and hate, you should look at yourself, question what you did when you made your choice of who is on top of the city. It's on you."

It was the moment that your gazes met and he froze. You could see the pain and regret about his admission, but somehow you knew it wasn’t just because he openly admitted it, but because it led to people looking at you.

If it came to tearing others down, humans were quick. San was not wearing his usual gloves today and neither mark was covered.

“I can’t believe it, this monster really has found his soulmate?!” Now people were staring at you and you felt panic rising inside of you, trying to figure out if you should withdraw or move towards him.

“Isn’t that one of those newspaper bitches? She just wrote one of those praising articles about him!”

People drew closer to you, their hate and anger for San shifting to you, but finally, you felt an arm curling around you, harshly pulling you away.

“Why did you come here?! You should have waited on the bench!” San asked coldly as he started to protectively lean over you, trying to get away, but the crowd was following now.

More things flew towards the two of you, but he protected you from each. You remembered his sincere face during that first dinner together: how he told you that he’d never let any harm come to you.

“San… I am sorry!” you whispered, but his gaze was cold and he stared forward. It felt like an eternity when the now familiar collection of men dressed in suits and one with casual clothes rushed towards you.

“San, Y/N! Are you okay?!” Wooyoung was by your side as the other members of security began to take care of the mob.

“Take her and get her out of here,” San shoved you towards Seonghwa.

“Hold on, San!” You could see there was a small bruise on his forehead, but when you tried to reach him, Seonghwa was already pulling you away.

“Let’s get you out,” his voice was soft but his grip on your arm only relaxed when you showed no sign of resistance. All you could do was watch how the people yelled and San vanished behind Wooyoung.

It was one thing to write a silly line for an article calling a man “the villain of the general citizen” and another to experience it.

“Staying with your family tonight will be best,” Seonghwa replied, trying to get you to talk, but all you did was stare out of the window, even when you parked in front of the house you grew up in. Your personal security refused to talk about what just happened, and San was not answering his phone.

“I will check on your cat, and tomorrow, we will sit down together and decide on the next steps,” Seonghwa continued. When you still weren’t moving, his hand reached out to take yours, and you finally turned around.

“It will be alright. Spend some time with your loved ones, and we’ll figure it out slowly.”

You didn’t feel like that, but there wasn’t much else you could do, and you didn’t want to add to the stress Seonghwa likely had because he wasn’t there with you when it happened, putting you both at risk. So you simply nodded.

“Thanks for driving me,” you mumbled, getting out of the car and pulling your bag up a little. It was obvious how the events were hard on you, it was so unlike you not to even wave goodbye to a friend. You didn’t even use the bell, pulling out the key from the secret spot to unlock the door.

In your mind, you longed for a hug from your mom, who would ask you what happened and then just curse people for being stupid, the same way she did when you got rejected from the newspapers of your dreams because they didn’t like your writing style.

The scene that awaited you was very different, though. Your mother was sitting on the couch, her eyes puffy from crying. To your surprise, your grandparents and father were also there. Seonghwa had given them a call to let them know you were coming, but he left out that something had happened, so this was odd.

“What are you all doing here?” you tried to sound casual, a small smile on your lips, but your mother looked at you like she had just been told her child was a criminal.

“Y/N,” your father started, his voice so serious that you froze in the doorway. Then finally, your gaze went to the news channel running on the TV.

It showed a TikTok video of the scenes from the zoo, and you slowly understood what was going on.

“You saw that… Ah, I guess I have to explain a few things,” you began, but were promptly interrupted.

“You have to step in front of the press and announce that it was a moment of shock. Tell them how it shatters your heart to have learned your soulmate is a cruel man and that you will not support him, his company, or his doings.”

Now, you were staring at your father: “What?”

“Your uncle, he was one of those people who had to sell their homes to this company so they could put that ugly tower on top of it!” your grandfather said angrily.

“My love, these people cannot be stopped; their money is endless, but you have been given a voice and power. As a journalist and member of society, if you officially reject him, his own soulmate, his reputation is done. The most precious bond in the world — it will move even those who wish to ignore the truth about how the rich simply do whatever they want with all of us..”

For years, your parents had been supportive when you did not find your soulmate and told you not to worry, but as you grew older, you could see the embarrassment. Eventually, you all simply stopped talking about it.

While you did not expect them to celebrate the one fate chose for you, this certainly wasn’t what you thought you’d find.

“What happened to my uncle is awful, but you cannot seriously ask me to go in front of the press and tell them I reject my soulmate.”

Your mother started to cry again, and the entire scene felt bizarre.

“You are supporting this man’s schemes? What happened to my child who wanted to tell stories of truth?” Your father stared at you.

“You are asking me to simply give up all chances of love and happiness before I even talked to him about any of this.”

“It’s the only thing to do,” he said, and you bit your lip.

“Or what?”

The silence in the room was an answer of its own. You never thought that finding your soulmate would mean that the world decided to hate you just because of something you had no choice over — the world chose him for you. But this moment was a choice you were given.

“As a journalist, here’s some advice: every story has several perspectives. Listen to them before you simply throw everything away based on one."

You said, somehow managing to regain your composure. As you walked out and closed the door, you suddenly wished your only problem was the one where your boss only gave you stories nobody cared for. You were so immature for once thinking how cruel the world was just because of such a silly matter.

You didn’t know where to go other than home. Maybe looking so miserable, and with a hoodie now on your body, people just didn’t recognize you. Still, there was this creeping paranoid feeling. In your mind, everyone on the train around you surely was looking at that doomed video, but maybe it was for the better. Thinking about that meant no time to deal with reality. Losing family and what felt like freedom in a single day was tough.

God, you wanted to crawl inside your bed and cry. When was the last time you felt this way? Never, because you had always been selfishly spoiled. As much as you whined about your job, being on your own for so long, or not getting invitations to weddings you didn’t even want to go to, there had always been people to support and love you.

No doubt, your friends still would. Jongho had already called several times, but you felt it would be unfair to pull him into this until you spoke with San.

What were you meant to say?

The closer you walked to your apartment complex, the more you considered your own words. You told your father how you needed to speak with San about it, but what exactly?

You had known the entire time what man he was. When the reports came out, you did not care. When you were preparing for the interview, you only worried he could ruin your career by being displeased, about how he was an asshole with too much money. But not once did you really think if he was a cruel person because he did the things he did. You simply blindly took up the opinions of others because, in that moment, it felt more beneficial to deal with your dumb complaints.

It was worse because as much as a part of your mind wanted to agree with your parents, it just would not work.

Maybe you had always been a villain, together with all the other people closing their eyes from the truth they knew, but you couldn’t deny that San had been right.

The rich were rich because too often, we gave them our money and we voted for people who made promises we all knew they’d never keep but we were desperate to believe.

When you unlocked the door, you called out for your cat, and this once, she walked by quietly, rubbing her head against yours.

“Mh, my one and only. I am sorry, I have been so absent lately,” you kissed her, but before you knew it, she slipped away, walking to the kitchen.

“It’s not dinner time yet, Sannie.”

“Did you eat anything today yet?”

San’s voice tore you out of your trance and you stared at him. How did he get in here?

He was sitting at the table, looking as he did the first day you met, suit and coat, but he was looking down at the mark on his hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Seonghwa stayed close to your parents' house. He told me that you left, he followed you quietly. Do not blame him, he acted on my order. He will continue doing so.”

Why was his voice so firm?

You tried to find words but he already continued, placing an envelope on the table.

“You being here, I take it your family was not too pleased with fate. Thus, I have prepared everything further for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Why wasn’t he even looking at you? As no answers came, you stepped over to the table, taking it, shaking as you opened the envelope.

Inside was a file: a one-way ticket to New York, photos of an apartment that looked lovely, and a job advertisement for a position at a New York newspaper.

“A friend of mine is the publisher, I did not pay him for it. He read some of your articles and they are looking for somebody to write about local events. Your style is something new and refreshing. It starts low but you can work yourself up. The VISA is already completed and I will fully cover all of your expenses. Nobody there will care what happened here. You can move abroad for as long as you wish, it will add beneficially to your portfolio and support your wishes to write about the things you want to in the future. I will pay for this one too, so you can return in a year if you prefer. Of course, your pet is going with you, together with Seonghwa who will keep an eye on you... just in case.”

When he suddenly stood up, you dropped it.

“You are sending me away?”

“It’s the safest for you to move abroad. For the time being, consider it an investment in your future, and by the time you return here, you will be able to comfortably start anew. Nobody will care about a TikTok by then. My lawyers are already working to take down every dirty post about you.”

Suddenly, you were terrified, your mark aching like you were burying it in thorns. Then you understood. Marks changed sometimes. There were thorns around your moon because something heavy surrounded the two of you.

“Where are you in all of this?” your voice was a whisper and he looked down before turning around to head towards the door.

“There have been many people who lost their soulmate in a way. Many of them found love, actually quite a few did, because once they no longer felt like they had to wait, they could fully embrace it. There is no reason why you should live your life in fear, tied down by a cruel soulmate.”

He was pushing you away. You knew it because as well prepared as every step was, San did not manage to look you in the eyes. Was it because he couldn’t hide his pain or because he knew he was breaking your heart?

Why did something you never asked for hurt so much? Why was the thought of being separated harder than the fear for your life? What fucked up mood were the gods in on the day they decided soulmates would be a great idea?

“Is it because of your mother? Are you scared somebody could try and do something?”

San winced, it seemed you were right. As you tried to step closer, he pulled away.

“San, listen!”

He hissed: “If you know, then you will go! It is not like you wanted to be with me to begin with, Y/N. Just go and live your life!”

Oh yes, you easily could see behind that. He was trying to chase you away with pain.

“What about your life, huh? You just continue like that on your own?”

“I’m not going to risk your life. Just go, we both can move beyond this.” His voice was like a clap of thunder but there they were, when you finally grabbed his arm and forced him to face you properly, the tears at the edge of his eyes.

You really were selfish. When you wanted to find your soulmate just because it was how life was supposed to go, mostly longing for it in silly little moments when you were upset, San had waited desperately because he had created himself to be a villain, one who never could be sure if his friends were real or if those he cared for were at risk like his parent.

He waited for the person who would love and take him just the way he was, no matter title or money.

“San,” you said softer, shaking your head. “I am not going anywhere. I don’t give a fuck what you think or say, that’s not how this goes. Our bond will not just disappear because I move across the ocean, nor will we stop longing for each other. Why would I try and find somebody else if I have my soulmate here?”

As you rested your hand against his cheek, brushing away his tears, it seemed as if he was trying to find anything in your features: hatred, rejection, regret. He knew that you were right but he also had sworn to protect you, even if it meant breaking his own heart.

“If you stay with me, now that this has occurred, there’s no way just to go back to your life… And you understand that I am who I am, I did things and I cannot go back … where I am now, the person I became, the kind of life people like I lead…” he finally said.

It was as if he needed one last push, a final confirmation you really understood what it meant.

“Urgh, disgusting being so sappy but yeah. Fate chose my soulmate but I decide to stay with you.”

Lips crushed against yours and you lost balance but San was there to pick you up, holding you in a tight embrace. You gasped, your body shivered.

As you forced your eyes open, you could see a glimpse of possession in his eyes, mixed with love. It made a strange combination but you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed it.

Somebody who chose you because they wanted to, not only because of a mark. And unlike the world, San never asked you to change, to do something you did not want to. How strange that the so-called “good people” did just that without even giving you a chance to speak.

San picked you up and placed you on top of the table as he started to shrug off his coat, dropping it carelessly on the floor followed by his tie. His lips met yours once more, trailing down your neck.

“Stay,” he whispered in your ear, his soft fingertips brushing over your sides.

“I will,” you promised, baring your neck when you felt San leaving a mark, taking soft skin between his lips, sucking and biting.

Your breaths adjusted, hearts slowly beating in a matching rhythm.

“I love you,” he finally said and you felt your heart swell in an emotion you failed to find a word for, even as a writer.

San moved back, your faces close to one another now as your hands rested against his cheeks.

“I love you too,” you whispered and for the first time, he really, truly smiled.

Just for you.

The kiss he placed on your forehead was most gentle and you sighed in relief.

“Let’s go home,” you finally said because you were ready but San grinned at you.

“Soon, I will take you home and never let you go but first, I will make sure you know just how much I crave and adore you.”

San picked you up onto his arms like you were a feather and slowly headed over to the room he knew was your bedroom.

And while he walked, his gaze never left yours and you comfortably allowed yourself to fall into the excitement, to leave behind the past few hours and maybe even years as the door closed shut behind the two of you.

The end of the first chapter of your life.

It was stupid, reckless, and a little insane, but it seemed that was just how your villain-turned-protagonist life had turned out to be.

He had never loved his home as much as he did the moment you walked in, spending ten minutes talking to your cat, who seemed a little displeased about being dragged out of her territory.

San kept his distance as you walked through his penthouse, seemingly amazed by how it wasn’t what you had expected: the colors were warm, the furniture was a mixture of brown and marine blune, and plants in many corners trying to add warmth that had been missing for so long. Personal belongings were scattered around to show that when the doors closed, as rare as it was, a simple person lived there.

“My rooms are all on this side of the penthouse. If you take the floor down, there used to be a guest room and a second office. I already emptied it for you, so we can bring your furniture here, and you can make yourself at home. The bathroom attached to it has a stunning view.”

He talked, but now you were staring at him. Returning after your first night together, San looked a little messy, his hair no longer fixed, and he had changed into a black long-sleeve. The way your gaze pierced him made him shiver again.

San did not withdraw when you curled your arms around him. If anything, his heartbeat increased, and he did the same.

“I’ll take up the offer for the office, but I think we won’t need a second bedroom. Maybe we can turn it into one for the cat instead.”

You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips before stepping back, taking his hand.

Ah, this was new — you managed to get all those emotions out of him.

San was smiling, pure happiness that you wished to be with him. The bond was no longer rejected, and the decision was made to stand against all odds, even the world if necessary. Yet, right now, he did not want to care about any of this. The world was going nowhere, and he had someone to cherish and love.

As he led you to his bedroom, there was no reason to bother moving pillows or blankets because it was comfort the two of you were seeking after this terrible day. San curled his arms tightly around you, allowing your head to rest against his chest as his hand gently brushed over your arm. The two of you looked at the view outside, the night long having swallowed the last bits of sun.

There were many things you’d need to talk about, but they all could wait.

San finally accepted that his soulmate was nothing like his mother, who had always been soft and reserved. No, you were noisy and stubborn, just like he was. And no matter what happened, you’d manage to get through it together.

San closed his eyes, gently rubbing his face against your hair and placing a few kisses on it.

He’d never let you go again, and as he thought about it, he could feel your embrace tighten around him too, just like you agreed in silence to always be together.

A few months later ...

"I can't believe they sent us all the way to Paris to report about the living conditions of the Olympian athletes," you sighed deeply, but Jongho just flashed you a grin.

"I thought the story with the cardboard beds was quite amusing. I already have a great intro for the draft of our report."

You chuckled: "I'm looking forward to that."

A handsome man appeared, and a few passengers stopped to give him a glance. He looked stunning in just suit pants and matching shoes, paired with a slightly opened button-up shirt, offering just a little cleavage, his hair free to play with the wind and a pair of matching sunglasses.

As he made it to you, his arms curled around your waist and pulled you into a kiss.

"Ewh, this is my call to go," Jongho joked, waving. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't try and steal any jewels."

Your best friend walked off, and you just looked after him.

"That sounds like a fun idea," San teased with a lazy grin, "but I've got some other plans for us."

You tilted your head slightly.

"Is that so? Did you lock down that giant metal tower everyone's into just for us?"

You never really got the whole hype around it, and Paris had been a little disappointing with most parts being locked for the event.

"Mh, something like that. Let's say other visitors will be a little jealous we get a certain place just for us — no annoying heads in the way as we take photos."

"That sounds very interesting, Mister Choi. Quite an evil act, being a VIP tourist."

He stepped back and took your hand, squeezing it gently: "What can I do? I'm a villain by nature."

"One that looks awfully soft right now," you smiled, stealing his sunglasses and placing them on your own nose.

"Love hits even the bad guys really hard."

You both chuckled, it seemed turning sappy also was part of a soulmate's fate.

His thumb brushed gently over your soul mark: it was a full moon now, adorned by stars. Never meant to be alone again, shining together.

closing note: if you have read until here, thank you so much. i tried to capture the idea of how the public affects the view of a person and the question of what you'd choose if forced to. mc is okay to pick his side, not only because it seemed everyone already judged mc anyway but also because deep down, mc always knew who san was and admitted to not caring until other people demanded it. i apologize if the start was a little too long but i hope it was still somewhat of an enjoyable read 🫶 thoughts and feedback is always appreciated.

[theblue6ook]

Other Lovers

Summary: Here’s something I didn’t tell you. Our charming bachelor Bruce is still invested in his old fling Rachel and our beautiful assistant Y/N is engaged (but not for long hehehe).

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Listen there’s a reason it’s called a slow burn. For more context you can follow the full “Out of My League” series. Also, Y/N is just turning 22, this is doubling as her birthday post. [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

Y/N had known Danny Russel since primary school. He started working at her dad’s mechanic shop in middle school. They started dating in high school. Russ and her were stupid teenagers in love doing stupid teenager things. Going to Chuck’s Chili way too late on a school night. Taking the cars they were working on drifting. Fooling around in said cars…

He’s been there for her since the beginning. Him and Carrie sat and supported her through her run in with the cops, when her dad kicked her out. Even after she decided to further her education, he was there… on his knee… proposing at eighteen. Again, stupid teenagers in love.

They weren’t stupid teenagers anymore.

It had been a long engagement and she was no where near ready to get married and he was… Russ. Always ready for anything. Always ready to tie the knot and that was great. It was, but they had no money and honestly, they’re in different places right now. Russ really wanted to focus on his music. She needed to focus on Bruce. She means work. Whatever. Bruce is her work okay? When he’s stressed it’s her job to get shit done and he seems really on edge lately.

Plus, her and Russ were kind of going through a rough patch. He didn’t exactly seem pleased she was working with Bruce Wayne or even that she was working at Wayne Enterprises. It had always been her and Russ against the world, but now she was in that world. It didn’t exactly sit right with him no matter how much money she made. But she was trying to schedule a date with him anyway. Well a birthday date. It was her birthday. Bruce had been nice enough to make a reservation for her and a plus one at his restaurant downtown. People waited months to get a table and she had one in less than a day. He assured her it was all his treat for her birthday and to go crazy. So she wanted Russ to come. 

“Y/N/N, you have never been that girl who wants to go to The Occult or whatever it is.” She had been sitting at the office on the phone with Russ for the past 15 minutes trying to convince him to come with her. It was getting to be too much.

“It’s The Ocelot, Russ,” she hissed into the phone. She was trying to be quiet about their spat, but everytime she thought they were taking three steps forward it was five steps back. Rubbing her eyes she said, “Seriously don’t be like this. Bruce is just trying to do something nice.”

“That’s great. Let’s let the millionaire finally do something nice for everyone else.”

“He’s a billionaire, actually.”

“Jesus, Y/N/N I am not going to be caught dead in that snobby place. Lets just do something casual babe. Let me take you to Chucks-”

“Russ, I am twenty two years old,” she snapped, “I don’t want to go to the high school hangout and eat chili dogs. I want to look nice. I want to have a nice drink at a sophisticated restaurant.”

“Babe, I can’t afford to take you there. It is what it is,” he stated so condsending. Like his word was god. Like there was no way in the world he could even show up.

“Well shit good thing you don’t have to worry about the money. It’s already paid for, I have told you this. This is the third time I’m telling you this.”

She could tell they were both getting frustrated and Y/N knows they should take a step back. Compromise. But she had done a lot of compromising lately and what had he been doing? This was her birthday. Was it too much to ask her fiance to take her to a nice restaurant? He didn’t even have to pay for it. He just had to show up.

“Since when did you take handouts,” he scolded. “That’s not the Y/N I know.”

“I’ve got to go, Russ,” she sighed and hung up before he could say anything else.

The conversation felt so backhanded. Everytime she talked to him she felt like she was getting scolded for having a nice job, nice clothes, and nice things. Her boss wants to reward her with a birthday dinner. You’re taking handouts. His driver drops her off at home when she has to work late. Why does Bruce Wayne know your schedule so well? She’s been so excited for this new opportunity, but everytime she wants to talk with him about it he doesn’t want to hear about it. The bands not doing well. I’m busy bartending tonight. What do you mean you have to work early tomorrow? No, I won’t come to your birthday dinner.

It made her question herself. He was making her question herself. Maybe I should just cancel the reservation. I’m being difficult. She picked up the phone again and dialed The Ocelot.

“Hi, I was just calling to cancel my dinner reservation.” A hand came from over her shoulder and took the phone out of her hand, hanging it up. She didn’t even need to look over her shoulder, she knew it was Bruce Wayne.

“I was using that, Mr.Wayne,” she sighed, picking up the phone and redialing the number. He took it out of her hand again and unplugged the phone line. She turned to him, “What is your problem?”

“Why are you canceling your birthday dinner?” he looked at her quizically. “It’s free. I’m paying for it. You love free things.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Everyone loves free things,” she mumbled as she started look up their other contact information on the computer. Maybe I can find an email.

“Even the rich,” he added, “but that doesn’t answer my question.” He leaned his forearms on the front of her desk and hit the off button on her computer so she had no choice but to looked at him.

She leaned her head back into her chair and closed her eyes groaning in defeat, “My fiance, he’s… busy so I’m not sure who I’d really go with.”

“Your fiance is busy… on your birthday.” She gave him a glare that said, just go with it. “Why don’t you take Carrie then?”

“I shouldn’t she has a lot going on-”

“You don’t want to tell her he screwed up again do you?”

“How did you know he screwed up in the first place?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been talking to Alfred.”

“About my love life?”

“What else is there?” So many other things, but it didn’t matter Y/N decided she was done talking about herself. She decided to pivot.

“You know Rachels going to be at the Ocelot too. I saw it on the Gotham Gazette” She looked up at him. “She’s going out with Harvey Dent to celebrate his campaign.”

“How do you know about Rachel?” She gave him that look. 

“Alfred,” he sighed.

-

It wasn’t that Bruce was in love with Rachel he just missed her. A lot. He missed their late night conversations. He missed having someone down to Earth who understood the crazy uptown world they were in. He missed talking with someone about his… night shift. Most importantly, he missed his friend and the fact that she was his friend made him love her. He didn’t even mean to. He just did.

So what was he supposed to do besides… offer to bring the entire Gotham Ballet to The Ocelot the exact day Rachel and Harvey would be there. He didn’t have a choice; she forced his hand. In all actuality, he wasn’t just moving them around for Rachel. Bane is still on the move trying to steal and harbor chemicals and the next CEO he was planning on visiting had made it obvious they were going to the Gotham Ballet. So… kill two birds with one stone. 

Next episode we’ll see Bruce and Y/N “happen upon” each other at the Ocelot. Maybe old flings don’t need to be flung anymore. It’s time for something new and hot (like birthday candles :D)

Also, this was not edited so sorry, I'm MIA this week. I just scheduled this in advance to keep y'all fed this week.

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky

[utilitycaster]

on Laura's characters

This has been rattling around for a bit, and I've notably been pretty critical of how Laura's characters have been treated by the fandom, and I think a lot of the discussion of Imogen, overlaid with the discussion of Vex during TLOVM, has put it into to focus for me:

Laura plays characters that allow her to explore a lot of very selfish or self-serving behaviors, as well as the dark side of selflessness. This is, in my opinion, one of the very last lines people are squeamish about female characters crossing - and it's across the board, too. People who are comfortable with supporting women's wrongs often balk at supporting women's uglier, smaller choices, particularly for women who are otherwise portrayed as heroic. Sacrifice is still seen in a lot of women-centric media as the greatest gesture, and works where women are unabashedly self-serving are harder to find. It's why Delilah's nonstop villainy in the name of love gets a pass, but few people look head on at Vex's petty cruelty to Keyleth.

Vex is an incredibly selfish person. She is also unique among Laura's characters in realizing this about herself, and not liking it very much. It's mostly sympathetic - what are D&D shopkeepers but opportunities to haggle and ask weird questions, and Vex's anxieties about money are very justified - but less so when it comes to her possessiveness of Vax. It's very understandable that she feels protective and possessive towards him, but that doesn't negate her unkindness. Vex pressures Keyleth to the point of tears at least once (granted, it was a difficult day for everyone) and pushes at Vax as well, to the point where it causes a small but definite rift between them. At worst, this selfishness - this desire to have Vax for herself - is turned into jealousy of Vax, rather than of Keyleth, so that it can be reframed as in the name of romantic love (which is considered a more acceptable form of selfishness than familial, but that's for someone far wiser than I to unpack). However, even when that doesn't happen, it's often glossed over. The same is true for Vex stealing the broom. It's fine if you disagree with the alignment change decision - I don't particularly care for it - and Laura certainly didn't deserve hate for taking the item of a character who would never show up again. But it is a purely self-centered choice. She wants to fly, she sees a way to do so, and she takes the broom of an ally and lies about it. There's no in-game justification for this being anything but selfish, and it says a lot about her character that she does it, but the things it says are messy and difficult. I don't think you can appreciate Vex's full arc without understanding that it is her pushing past this selfishness. Holding grudges is perhaps the most selfish act of all, of keeping all that hurt to yourself and never granting forgiveness. "Sineath" is about a lot of things, but that is one of them.

Jester is much less selfish when it comes to material things, but she is, especially early on, frequently inconsiderate or insensitive. It comes from a place that is devoid of malice, but definitely does not think through the ramifications for others. This shows up when she's dismissive of sums of money that are immense for Caleb but mean little to her, or her willingness to deface temples despite the risk. However, Jester is, far more, an exploration of the darker side of selflessness. What does someone feel, when they think they must constantly be a light to those around them? Where do their frustrations come out? We see that it weighs on Jester in how difficult she finds it to balance the responsibilities and demands of Artagan during Traveler Con, and again, when she becomes aware of the potential self-sacrifice needed in Eiselcross. Vex had to learn to let go of Vax and her grudges and her need for approval from people who would never give it; Jester has to learn to start taking and putting herself first.

And then there's Imogen. Vex and Jester's selfishness was tempered by their extroversion and empathy, which at times makes it easier to ignore. While they may have self-interests, and struggle to regulate what they do or do not give (in different directions), they do, in the end, like people on the whole. Imogen does not. It's understandable, given the stress they put on her, but her powers and her judgement mean that she is a lot less able to create boundaries between them and herself. As a result, when she lets herself become closer to people, she doesn't recognize when treating her friends as a sounding board might be hurtful or insulting to them. This comes out notably in her repeated consideration of the Vanguard's position. It's fascinating because it can be seen as her trying to understand other people, especially her mother and the members of the Vanguard we've seen. There is legitimate hurt behind Tuldus, Ludinus, Liliana, and Otohan's motivations; but the person to talk over this with is not Orym, whose husband and father-in-law were innocent collateral damage to these plans, nor Laudna, who was murdered by Otohan.

I think people really shy away from the dark sides of all of these characters. People tend to focus on Vex's competence, Jester's role as the heart and light in the party, and Imogen's trauma, without realizing these are all perpetuated by that exploration of selfishness and selflessness. But given how central this is to all three of these characters, I think this is also why the fandom is often so quick to turn on them - they do not want to face how much Vex cares about her father and Vax, or how what Jester needs is not unconditional support nor concrete instructions, but honesty and a willingness to listen, or that Imogen has the capacity to do great harm to those she loves and does so, but these are all major parts of those characters. Ignoring that is how people believe Vex's arc is underserved; it's not, but you can only see it if you are willing to admit who she is at the start. It's easier for them to consider a Jester frozen in the early part of the campaign than the far more emotionally mature woman she becomes because of what it says about selfishness.

Imogen is interesting, because I've actually seen far more arguments of her as a complete monster than those absolving her. If Imogen becomes more unsure at Orym's words and needs a complete lack of judgment to come around that makes her truly heartless and unfeeling, rather than someone who has an understandably if unintentionally cold and strange way of understanding thoughts vs. words. vs. actions. I suspect this is because both Imogen herself, and the fandom, have less of a grasp on Imogen as her own person. And, to be fair, this is true of the fandom's perception of Vex and Jester; they just had better in-universe senses of self. But I'm interested in seeing if the perception of Imogen shifts back to how it was prior to episode 48, which is a more consistent discomfort with the way she puts herself first.

[katsu28]

hi Kait!! might i be able to request "Black Dahlia - a lie" with Bradley bradshaw pleaseeee thank you!

ngl i think i got a little too carried away with this but man oh man did i have fun, pls enjoy!

black dahlia: a lie, bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, rooster is a total simp, 2.3k

Rooster had a staring problem. Sometimes he spaced out in the middle of a training debrief without realizing he was looking straight at Phoenix the whole time, sometimes his furrowed brows made Maverick think he was angry at something when in reality he was just focused. Sometimes he creeped random people out because he just…didn’t know he was staring. 

But most times, the unsuspecting focus of his staring was you. There was just something about you that had his eyes searching for you in every room he entered, drew his eyes to you every time you entered. He just couldn’t help it. Everything about you, from the way you laughed, to the way that you said his name, to the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled at him. Even the way you elbowed him in the ribs when he made a terrible joke had him hooked on you. 

And you had no idea. 

“Rooster. Rooster, you didn't laugh at my—what are you even looking at?” Hangman sounded deflated, but once his eyes tracked Rooster’s line of sight to you he knew what was going on in that feathery nicknamed brain of his friend. He’d known it pretty much all along. It was an unspoken thing, but he knew. Everyone knew. Everyone except you, apparently. 

“Oh, I see it now. You don’t like my jokes as much as you like Y/N.”

Rooster tore his gaze from where you were chatting with Penny at the bar to see Hangman with his hands on his hips, looking entirely too smug. “Sorry, what?” His ears had picked up the blond man’s jest, but surely he’d heard it wrong. 

“There’s no shame in admitting it. You have a crush on her.” 

“I’m not ashamed, I’m just—” 

“So you do have a crush!” 

Rooster scowled, brows pinching in the middle as he gripped the neck of his beer a little tighter. “I’m a grown man, I don’t have a crush.” 

“So you’re in love.” 

“What? No, I’m not—we’re…friends, that’s it.” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Bradshaw.” Phoenix cut in, poking him in the gut with the end of her pool cue. “Cut the shit and let us know how you really feel.” 

There really wasn’t any way out of this other than to tell the truth, so he sighed. “Okay, so maybe—just maybe—I might possibly have some feelings for Y/N.” 

“Yeah, and those feelings are called love,” Hangman said smugly, an ever present smirk gracing his face once again. He wasn’t wrong. He was actually right on the money, but Rooster would be damned if he let that son of a bitch know he was right. 

“Screw you, Hangman. I’m not talking about this anymore.” 

He thought he must’ve sounded more serious than he’d intended, because Hangman actually shut up for once, zipping his lips with an imaginary key before miming throwing it over his shoulder. Phoenix just nodded, knowing well enough not to push her luck with the subject. 

Nothing about the conversation was mentioned the rest of the night, especially not when you’d made your way back over to the group of them and stayed for a while. Rooster almost forgot about it until a few days later. 

Flight training had let out for the day a little later than usual, nearing half past seven when the pilots were finally trailing into the parking lot to go home. 

“Up for a round at the Hard Deck, fellas?” Hangman offered. There were a few mumbled declines to the invitation scattered amongst the squad and he looked disappointed. Leave it to Hangman to still have energy for a beer after the grueling day they’d all just had. 

Rooster had half a mind to say no too. All he wanted to do was go home and sit on the couch and probably do nothing for the rest of the night, that’s how tired he was. He wandered towards where he’d parked the Bronco this morning, getting almost halfway there when he heard Hangman’s voice again. 

“Phoenix, c’mon, I know you’ll do me a solid this time. I’ll buy. I’ll even let you win at pool!” 

“No can do, Bagman, I’m in a time crunch—gotta get to Y/N’s house.” 

Upon hearing your name, Rooster froze, willing himself to walk away, but his curiosity won out very quickly. He turned around as casually as he could, hiking his duffel a little higher on his shoulder. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s fine. She asked to borrow a necklace for her date tonight, so I gotta pop over there before she heads out.” Phoenix shrugged, patting her jacket pocket. Rooster couldn’t help the way his eyebrows flew up in surprise and she noticed, knowing smile already gracing her lips. “Everything okay with you, Bradshaw?” 

“Fine. It’s, uh—no, yeah everything’s good.” He mumbled, clearing his throat. Hangman coughed from behind him, sounding suspiciously like ‘bullshit’, but Rooster paid him no mind. He was more focused on the fact you were going on a date with someone else. Someone that wasn’t him. 

Then again, who the fuck did he think he was, having some kind of bullshit thoughts about who you went out with. He had no right, he knew that. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut. 

“Hey, why don’t I drop it off for you?” He blurted, pressing his lips into a thin smile. Phoenix looked confused. He was confused at himself too, honestly. What the hell was he doing? “I just, I mean your place is the opposite way and I’m gonna pass her neighborhood anyways, so…I can do it.” Now she looked amused. 

“Since when did you get all helpful and shit?” 

“Pretty sure I’ve always been helpful.” 

“You sure there’s no other reason why you’re volunteering to see her? None at all? Maybe one starting with L and rhyming with shove?” Hangman chimed in, grinning wickedly. Phoenix nodded in agreement, her smile now mirroring his. 

“I’ll shove you, Hangman. Shut up.” Rooster said sharply. He turned his gaze back to Phoenix. “No. No other reason. I’ll drop it off on my way home and that’s it.” 

It was a bold faced lie and he knew his friends saw right through it, but he didn’t really care. 

“Okay. Suit yourself.” She shrugged, fishing the necklace out of her pocket and pouring it into his outstretched hand. “Would ya look at that, Bagman? Looks like I’m free to beat you at pool after all.” 

“I’m not buying you a beer anymore, that was a one time offer and it’s expired,” Hangman protested, much to Phoenix’s chagrin because she scoffed. 

“Like hell it has! You promised a free beer and a win, I expect you to deliver. But make an effort to play fair, don’t just throw the game ‘cause that wouldn’t be a good look for me.” 

Rooster could hear their bickering until he hopped into his car, but he peeled out of the parking lot in a blink, on the move to you. 

He didn’t have a wisp of a plan in his mind when he pulled to a stop in front of your place. His hands shook where they were clenched around the steering wheel and he was sweating a little bit, but he had no idea what he was going to say to you. He just knew he needed to say something. 

Five minutes and countless unhelpful self pep talks later, Rooster was finally ringing the doorbell, necklace in his pocket but still no clearer on what his end goal was. His mind went even more blank when you opened the door, because shit, you were breathtaking. 

You had on a pretty dress in his favorite color and you were adjusting the strap of your heel when you laid eyes on him standing on your doorstep. Putting aside the confusion on your face at the sight of him and not Phoenix, Rooster would rank this as one of his favorite moments ever. 

“Bradley?” You sounded concerned, nose crinkled to match. “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh…” He trailed off, probably sounding completely stupid as he blinked at you dumbfoundedly. You said his name again, a little louder this time, and he snapped out of it. 

He dug around in his pocket clumsily until his fingers closed around the delicate chain and pulled it out, letting it dangle from his hand as he held it out. “Nat asked me to swing this by on my way home from base.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually him who insisted on being the one to save the day. That would sound too weird, maybe even borderline creepy. 

Your eyes lit up at the sight of your awaited necklace and you beamed, beckoning him into your front hallway. “You’re the sweetest, Bradley. Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to detour.” 

“S’no problem. What’s a few more minutes on the road to help a friend?” 

“Maybe a few more minutes.” You said sheepishly, looking a tad embarrassed. “D’you—would you mind helping me put it on? I’ve never been good at clasping them on my own.” 

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Sure.” He moved behind you, trying not to inhale too sharply when you moved your hair off your neck. God, all he wanted to do was whirl you around and kiss you. Instead, he decided to make some small talk to get his mind out of where it shouldn’t have been in the first place. “So…you’re going on a date. With who? Maybe I know ‘em.” 

“Probably not. He’s not Navy, I met him at the gym a few weeks ago. His name’s Vinny. He’s a boxer.” 

Vinny. Sounded like an asshole name. 

“Didn’t know boxers were your type.” He said casually, working deftly to latch the tiny hook. 

“Yeah?” You sounded amused. “And what exactly do you think my type is?” 

Me, he wanted to say. But he held his tongue, instead opting for a noise of nonchalance. 

“That’s a shame. Would’ve thought you of all people would know.” 

“Why?” 

“You’ve always seemed to know me best.” You said simply. Rooster’s fingers fumbled the clasp in surprise. “When I’m down, you always know how to make me smile. When I’m upset, you seem to know exactly what’ll help. You know everything I like, everything I hate. You know me like the back of your hand. How is that?” 

“I…pay attention.” 

“So that means you know Hangman’s favorite song? Fanboy’s comfort movie? What about Phoenix and Bob’s secret handshake?” You weren’t facing him, so he had no idea if you were being serious or not, but he was stumped. 

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, brain scrambling for any shred of an excuse for not knowing any of those answers. He paid attention, yes, but only to you. Rooster’s fingers brushed along your bare shoulder softly in lieu of a response, too tender of a moment for two friends to be sharing. 

“Don’t go.” He breathed. You froze, and Rooster swore it was the longest few seconds in his life. But then you turned around, wide eyes searching for his. Your lips parted like you were about to say something, but he shook his head, inhaling a shaky breath. “Don’t go on that date.” 

“Why?” Your voice was impossibly quiet, so much so that he wouldn’t have heard you say anything at all had you not been this close to each other. 

“Because when Phoenix mentioned it, I felt like I’d just done an inverted dive. And not in a good way, I’m talking about the ‘I’m about to puke’ feeling. Because I can’t stop thinking about you even though I should be thinking about anything else, because I don’t know what I’d do if we weren’t friends. Because I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Rooster admitted, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. He was too far in now to quit and run away with his tail between his legs. This was happening, whether it was a good idea or not. “Because…I’m in love with you.” 

You just blinked at him slowly, processing his words the best you could. He could practically see the wheels turning in your head, and it did nothing to quell the ball of nerves turning over in the pit of his stomach. 

Forget what he was feeling earlier—this was definitely the longest few seconds of his life. It felt more like an eternity. 

He was about to apologize, to say sorry for dumping out his feelings for you right before you were about to go on a date with someone else, but you beat him to the punch with something much, much better. 

You grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and you kissed him. Hard. 

More surprised than anything, it took him a beat to register what was actually happening, but his hands slid around your waist to splay across your back when it finally sunk in. He backed you against the nearest wall, but took special care in slipping a hand behind your head so it didn’t bounce off it, all while never letting his mouth leave yours. Your hands found their way to his broad shoulders, roaming around the expanse of flexed muscle shifting under your palms. 

It wasn’t the perfect kiss. It was clumsy and messy and a little overexcited, but it was perfect to Rooster. He could only hope you were thinking the same. 

He finally (albeit reluctantly) pulled away a bit, just enough to give you some air. “What do you think? Are you—does this mean what I think it means?” 

You smiled, linking your hands behind his neck. “I think…I’ve come down with a nasty case of food poisoning and I need to cancel my date.” You said softly.

Rooster nodded solemnly. “And I think I should stay. Y’know, in case you need anything during this awful bout of said food poisoning.” 

“That’s a good idea.”

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