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dat-town · 5 months ago

Text

one look (and it's over)

Characters: student representative!Leehan & content creator!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, fluff, coming of age, fake dating for like 30 seconds

Summary: You took one look at Kim Leehan and thought you had him all figured out. But oh he was so much more than that and somehow he became a stable point in your uncertain future.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC refers to Leehan as pretty boy and is annoyed by him in the beginning, OC has one neglectant comment about harassment against boys but regrets it immediately, Leehan has this popularity thing going on with all its consequences, people tend to touch him without his consent and it does bother him but tends to play it off, he also reveals an insecurity about his looks at one point

Words: 7.8k

Author’s note: this is also the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. partly inspired by who! trailer film and Leehan’s iconic “how can she not like me when i look like this?” title is from Leo’s One Look

despite all the spoilers i hope you like it @restlessmaknae <3

read Taesan’s companion piece here

The first time you met Leehan, he said you were his girlfriend.

Not to you but to another stranger, a girl very obviously flirting with him and you felt like an awkward third wheel standing there with your camera in hand.

“Oh,” the girl with thigh socks and manicured fingers pouted after giving you a once-over as if cataloging what she lost against but then she mumbled out a sorry and made a beeline towards her friends in the back of the room.

The boy next to you let out a relieved sigh and that was what managed to snap you out of your stupor.

“Did you just use me to get out of having to say no?” You hissed and glared at him despite the height difference. Lucky for him you weren’t a fan of public humiliation, so you didn’t call him out on the lie loudly while the girl from before was still so close but it didn’t mean you supported his rude behavior. However, the boy didn’t look like he was feeling guilty.

“I did say no. Twice. She was being pushy,” he explained, letting out a frustrated huff as he looked down at you. “I know her type, this was the easiest and kindest way to let her down.”

“You talk as if you had so much experience,” you snorted, the urge to roll your eyes too strong but nothing could have prepared you for the boy’s reaction.

“Well… yeah,” he simply confirmed with a small nod after barely hesitating and just pointed at his face. His stupid handsome face because if you wanted to be honest, he looked exactly like the type of guy girls your age would be daydreaming about. His hazel brown, longer locks framed his freckled face nicely and his orbs reflected the blue lights of the aquariums around you behind his stylish glasses. You weren’t even sure he needed those or if they were just a fashion item like his baggy jeans and plaid shirt were. He looked like the kind of boy who thought they were too good for everybody.

“Alright,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping off your tone before turning your back on him and heading towards the tunnel under the shark aquarium because you wanted nothing to do with the likes of him. Briefly you wondered whether the girl from before saw this and thought you were the jealous kind of girlfriend but you had better things to do than worrying about that.

Unfortunately, the pretty boy didn’t get the memo and managed to catch up to you quickly. His stupid long legs easily kept up with your steps.

“Hey, wait up. It would be weird if we went separate ways and she found me again.”

“Not my problem,” you reminded him and the guy had the audacity to look like a kicked puppy with his doe eyes. It was unfair. You sighed. “Whatever. Just stay quiet.”

The guy did not in fact stay quiet. He babbled about random fun facts about the sea animals you were seeing, pointing out cool hiding ones you would have missed otherwise and he seemed to know more fish species than you ever heard of in your life.

“How do you know all this?” Your curiosity got the worse out of you at one point when he was talking about the coral reef and star fishes in such detail your past Biology teachers would have been ashamed of their own knowledge.

“Oh. I come here a lot,” pretty boy answered with a shrug and a big smile, his pearl white teeth glittering under the fluorescent lights. “Would you like me to take a picture of you? It’s one of the last rooms.”

Out of instinct you were about to tell him no because you were used to taking your own pictures but thinking about it for a moment, it was only right. He lied about you being his girlfriend and stuck to your side, so you couldn’t film like you planned. The least he could do was to take some pictures.

“Sure,” you handed him your camera and stood in front of the colorful aquarium, posing naturally, then you turned towards the fish and poked the glass between you. The boy didn’t even complain and later you had to admit that he did take it seriously. The photos came out nice enough to set one of them as your new profile picture.

“I’m Leehan by the way,” he said as he handed back your camera and as if on cue, your phone started ringing. You glanced at the caller’s handle before answering, sandwiching the phone between your shoulder and ear to take the camera back.

“Hi, mom. I will be out in a minute,” you said, waving the guy goodbye just to not be rude while you listened to your mother explaining the location of the parking spot she found. You might not meet ever again but you could be well mannered about it even if his previous attitude still bothered you.

When you were younger, you wanted to become many things: idol, actress, tv show host, news anchor… You had always had the passion of performing and ever since you had won the beauty pageant in your region when you had been 4 years old, you had kept hearing that you had the face for these things, too. As if having been a pretty baby helped much with teenager pimples and acne scars.

It was a bit more than three years ago when you decided to take your fate into your hands and do something with this interest of yours. During the summer after your middle school graduation, your family moved to Jeju, so your parents could oversee the opening of the new branch of their business. Not knowing anybody around there but loving the beautiful spots, you started making weekly videos about your days, studying, discovering bakeries and stationary stores. A term passed and life brought you to Gwangju, then Daegu, then last time Daejeon. Over the years your content changed a bit focusing more on realistic high school life portrayal, aesthetics vlogs going around new towns and skincare tips you learned while your subscriber numbers increased gradually. By now, you were an established content creator with a loyal following and some long term sponsors. You only had one more year to graduate and then you could do this full time.

Unsurprisingly senior year had found you in a new city too, this time Seoul, and your viewers had been eager for new exploring types of content, so you had done your research and headed out to look around a bit before the upcoming term made you busy. That was how you had ended up at the aquarium too, not that you could salvage any footage from that day after meeting the arrogant pretty boy.

But oh, how wrong you were about not seeing him again. He was literally on the poster advertising your new school when you went to pick up your school uniform with your mom. Suddenly Seoul seemed to be a much smaller city than you expected it to be.

Small mercies though, at least you weren’t classmates. Not that it saved you from hearing the girls gush about him or his other popular friends. It was a typical high school thing, everywhere you went, school cliques and dynamics were all the same. As the new transfer student you fit in alright, but you had experience in that, in being the new kid in town. You got yourself some popularity too after one of the girls asked for your IG and saw your followers’ number and another classmate was watching your Youtube channel apparently. You didn’t become an outcast nor were you caught up in classroom drama, so it was all good just how you liked it to be.

It happened a few weeks into the term, on a nothing special Tuesday. You were sitting in the canteen with some of your classmates you befriended, spooning fried rice into your mouth and listening to Eunjoo squealing about the new Olive Young discounts, when you looked up and your eyes met a familiar set of brown eyes. The first thing you noticed was a sly smile on the boy’s lips then the second that he wasn’t wearing glasses, so either you were right about them being fake or he wore contact lenses.

You forced yourself to look away despite feeling his gaze on you and focused on the girls’ chatter about Innisfree’s new skincare collection, agreeing to go with them later to check it out. Suddenly, you heard a creak of chair legs dragged across the floor and the canteen quieting down for a long moment before the murmurs picked up. Then an empty tray with only remains of the daily lunch menu was slid onto the table across you and Wonhee on your left gasped.

“Hello, girls. Hello… Y/N,” came the now familiar smooth voice and you caught Leehan pointedly looking at the name tag over your uniform before locking eyes with you. “I didn’t know you go here.”

“I just transferred this year,” you said, unfazed but you couldn’t help but observe how different vibe did the boy give off now compared to the aquarium. Maybe it was the circumstances or maybe it was the uniform’s doing, the suit well-fitted, his necktie nicely made and the fabric’s tight stretch empathizing his broad shoulders. Nothing about him now indicated how laid back he had been back at the aquarium, how relaxed, if not for his lazy smile. Here he was composed, seemingly aware that each of his movements were followed by curious eyes. Huh, maybe he did have as much experience rejecting girls as he had claimed despite his age.

“Do you know each other?” Eunjoo chirped in, cutting your train of thoughts short.

“We ran into each other before,” you explained briefly and while it didn’t seem to satisfy the girls' curiosity, luckily Leehan didn’t seem keen on elaborating either.

“Well, it was good to see you again,” he nodded towards you then flashed a charming smile at your entire table before taking off, leaving a trail of whispers and gossip in the wake of his steps. You looked after him and wondered what Yongsan High’s prince wanted from you.

That could have been it. Acknowledging each other’s presence, greeting each other on the school hallways, nothing less, nothing more. That was until Principal Im called you into his office, offered you tea and mentioned that ‘it was brought to his knowledge that you were some sort of Internet persona’, his words, not yours. It felt weird talking about it with a teacher because none of your previous schools had a problem with it. But as it turned out it was quite the opposite. The principal wished to use your ‘expertise with standing in front of a camera’ to the school’s benefit. So that was how you ended up doing a photoshoot for the school’s Open Day with none other than Kim Leehan.

Although you had no actual modeling experience, the principal reassured you that you didn’t need to be professional for this kind of shoot. He was even delighted by the idea of you vlogging the experience for more exposure. So on the day of the shooting, you headed to the classroom assigned for the shoot right after classes and talked with the photographer about recording the entire session and set up your camera. You were doing last minute adjustments with the brightness and white light with the new angle after filming getting your hair and ‘no makeup’ makeup done by the stylist the school hired (like woah, they took it seriously) when Leehan showed up.

It was obvious that he had experience, he moved around the lighting and photography equipment with ease, charming everybody with his easy smile and kind greetings. He sat through getting his makeup to not glow or look tired on camera without a word of complaint and instead chatted with the woman about her dog. You caught yourself staring at his genuine smile a little too late.

“Y/N!” Leehan’s smile widened slowly, a little cheekily, showing his dimple and he shot up from his chair to walk up to you and your camera. “So it’s you.”

“It’s me,” you confirmed but you weren’t sure why he looked so giddy about it. Was he worried it would be some clingy fangirl of his?

“I heard you’re Internet famous,” he noted and then looked pointedly at the camera. “Are you going to film the shooting too?”

“That’s the plan. If that’s alright with you,” you looked at him, questioning. Even if he said no, you could record your solo parts and use just that and the preparation during editing. You wouldn’t have wanted to make anybody uncomfortable with your filming. Leehan however didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Sure, you can even put my face on the thumbnail,” he winked at you, teasing, right before the photographer called for you.

Even with all his playfulness, Leehan took the job seriously. Whether it was experience or natural talent, he had a knack for easing into natural behavior despite the constant click-clack of the camera and knew how to smile into it when it was needed to make the photographer satisfied. You took a bunch of photos depicting school life at Yongsan High: flipping through text books, fake writing essays, solving equations on the board and working in pairs on a task. You honestly weren’t sure why they needed so much for a simple Open Day brochure but it was a one of a kind experience and not at all bad.

“Thank you for your hard work,” the principal’s secretary distributed drinks for everyone when the shooting was wrapped up and you bid goodbye to every adult with polite bows before dismounting your own camera.

You didn’t expect Leehan to wait for you but for some reason, you weren’t all too surprised either.

“Want some?” He held something out for you and looking down you saw that it was a pack of shark shaped gummies. So random.

“No, thanks,” you shook your head and put your tripod and camera into your bag, ready to go. But you couldn’t without making a comment. “You’re pretty good at this. Modeling, I mean.”

“Hm. It’s good for extra pocket money,” Leehan shrugged between chewing two pieces of gummies. You were sure it wasn’t the first time he heard it from somebody. “And no, before you ask, I wasn’t paid for this either. I mean in general.”

With his face and overall good looks you weren’t surprised to hear that. Not to mention it was a positive thing that he had already found something to earn money with.

“Do you wanna do this after graduating?” You asked, suddenly curious because you realized that you didn’t know anything about him other than his fascination with sea animals, that everywhere he went girls just fell in love with him at first sight and that he acted like you were friends for a while when you had been nothing but strangers.

“Nah. Maybe as a side gig but hopefully I will get into a uni with marine studies,” he said and you knew that it was very judgemental of you to be surprised at his career choice, especially after seeing how enthusiastic he was at the aquarium but it only proved your stance that you barely knew each other. And apparently Kim Leehan kept surprising you.

“That’s cool,” you mumbled, not wanting to voice out your surprise in case he would think you thought of him as an air-headed pretty boy even if there would have been a tiny bit of truth in that.

“What about you? Will you turn content creation into a job?” He nodded towards the tripod in your hands. He didn’t ask about it in a way some of your more distant relatives did, condescending, like you were a child they needed to warn about how unstable of a career it was. He seemed genuinely curious, so you gave him an honest answer too.

“Well, I will try to. But I plan to get certificates for digital marketing too and maybe help others boost their online presence too,” you said because while your plans might not have been unheard of in this time and age, you knew that it was far from what your conservative country encouraged. If nothing worked out, your parents would have been glad to welcome you at their company too but you didn’t voice that out because you would have preferred paving your own way.

“That’s pretty cool, too. What’s your account’s name by the way?” Leehan asked, fishing out his phone ready to look it up and his eyes sparkling with curiosity which was unfair really because it made it hard to say no to him. “Oh come on, I’m sure I could ask any of your friends.”

You knew he was right, he could even just search your name on Naver and find it. You weren’t sure why you felt so self-conscious thinking about him checking out your channel or other socials. Plenty of other people did.

“Fine,” you sighed, telling the boy your IG handle and in a weak attempt of not seeing his reaction, you swung your bag onto your shoulder now that you were all packed up and headed towards the classroom exit.

“Cute,” you heard Leehan’s comment, quiet and unexpected, from behind you just before he caught up to you with his long legs. “You set the photo I took as your profile picture.”

You hummed because what else could you have said? It was pretty obvious. Leehan seemed surprised at first though but then his mouth tilted in a teasing way.

“Where’s my credit?” He singsonged, easily keeping up with your walking speed.

“In your dreams. I don’t want dating rumors,” you told him. You weren’t famous in a way you would have to worry about people dissecting your life but so far you had managed to keep your family and relationships out of the public eye and you wanted to keep it that way. If you captioned the photo with ‘taken by the pretty boy I met at the aquarium’ some of your followers surely would have gotten way too invested in your non-existent love life. Plus, you had thought you wouldn’t see each other again.

“What if it’s not a rumor?” Leehan asked just to tease. It was easy to tell from his tone or the way his eyes glinted when you looked at him.

“Says the guy who lied about having a girlfriend when asked for his number,” you deadpanned with an eyebrow raised, challenging him to disagree with you but the boy only cackled.

“Touché.”

He followed you on Instagram and after one cute animal post in your DMs, you followed him back. You didn’t text much at first, just sharing some memes over Principal Im’s mild reactions to your photo shoot and random sealife content. Then the principal asked the two of you to greet the parents at the school gate on the Open Day which made you bond over mutual annoyance over responsibilities like this. You would never understand what difference it made to have two students offer brochures by the door instead of stacking them on a table free to take to the overall experience of parents, but there you were, on brochure hand out duty on a fine Friday.

“Do I have a sign over my forehead saying ‘touch me’ or something?” Leehan grumbled after the nth parent thought it was appropriate to place a hand over his shoulder or touch his cheek just to coo about how handsome boys attended this school. You got some comments on your looks too but the aunties were impressed by Leehan’s visuals way more and neither of you could say anything because that would have come off as disrespectful and wouldn’t have done any good for the school’s reputation.

“Do you want to take a break? I can cover for you,” you offered because seeing him at unease twisted something in your stomach. Honestly, both of you were there mostly just to look pretty, so if he left to be alone a bit, you would have been fine still.

Leehan seemed taken aback by your offer though if his widened eyes and slow blinking was anything to go by.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks though,” he shook his head eventually and put on his fake smile when the next batch of parents filed through the entrance.

But something shifted then between you, some sort of unsaid understanding over vulnerability. Something that made you think that maybe you could be more than just two people in the same boat. You could have been friends talking about stuff friends did.

Maybe that was why, when you were done and ushered to your respective classrooms, you brought up the first neutral topic that you could think of to fill the void while walking on the empty hallways.

“Hey, are you friends with the school radio club leader?”

Leehan seemed lost in thoughts, so your question made him falter a bit, his eyebrows creasing, confused about the sudden topic.

“Taesan? Yeah, why?” He asked tentatively, turning to look at you briefly and see your expression.

“Is he dating my class’ president?” You asked because even though you weren’t one to bump your nose into others’ business, based on what you saw, you could barely believe it wasn’t common knowledge. Leehan must have been on the same page because his eyes immediately shone with excitement.

“Oh, you noticed too!” He pointed out, giddy, and it was nice to see him smile so wide after how uncomfortable he had looked before.

“It was kind of hard not to. I was at the senior interview last week and they kept glancing at each other,” you said because honestly, they must have thought that they had been subtle about it, always looking when the other hadn’t but it made you feel like a third wheel.

“That’s just great! I can’t wait to tease Taesan with it,” Leehan grinned, bouncing a little on his feet, his soft-looking hair falling into his eyes behind the glasses he decided to put on that day too. “They aren’t official or anything. Taesan was actually convinced for a while that pres hated his guts but as far as I know there has been progress.”

You weren’t an expert at love by any means but based on what you saw, your class president was far from hating the other guy, so you just hummed in acknowledgement. Leehan misunderstood your silence though.

“Are you jealous?” He asked, more astonished than teasing as he jogged in front of you, so he could look at your face while walking backwards. An unnecessarily hazardous thing to do, so you halted your steps when you reached the corner of your classrooms' hallway.

“What? No,” you furrowed your eyebrows because where the heck did he take that from?

“So you don’t like Taesan?” Leehan asked as if it was something he needed to confirm, best friend duties or whatever. Even if you liked his friend, you wouldn’t have talked about him with Leehan. That kind of behavior just didn’t make sense to you.

“No, gosh, I was just trying to start a conversation,” you sighed exasperatedly which exuded a chuckle from the boy.

“Cute,” he noted and absentmindedly reached out towards your head. You froze in your spot the same moment his hand stopped mid-air too having caught himself. You felt heat rush into your cheeks thinking that he wanted to… what? Ruffle your hair or pat your head? Either way, Leehan smoothly recovered as he pulled his hand back and ran his fingers through his own silky locks, waving goodbye to you before heading off to his class.

It was silly how something so small and insignificant like that suddenly made you nervous around the boy. Well, nervous might not have been the right word. You would have liked to think that previously you were indifferent or slightly intrigued at most when it came to Leehan. He was just another boy after all, just one more face that you wouldn’t see anymore when your family moved again. You had become great at not getting too close with anybody after the constant goodbyes had become too much to handle. Yet, you caught yourself waiting for the boy’s random animal fun facts and felt yourself getting flustered when you caught him as much as looking in your direction at the school canteen. It was getting ridiculous.

When you mentioned to Hyewon that one guy made you feel this confused, she told you that it could be just because you weren’t used to being friends with boys and that you needed to get out more. That's how you ended up at Wonyoung’s house party that weekend. The cheerleader welcomed you with a wide smile despite not talking more than ten words with you before but you guessed that it was normal. The more the merrier and all that jazz.

You had never been a party person, it was too loud, too chaotic. You weren’t sure how this was supposed to help with your problem but Hyewon seemed to have fun, especially when she made Gyuvin dance on the dance during a round of truth or dare. You talked with some people from class and strangers both and it wasn’t bad, you did have a good time but after a while it was a bit too much. Very unlike your usual Saturday night when you usually edited your videos to the tunes of your feel good Spotify playlist.

You needed some fresh air after being in the stuffy house for hours among dozens of other sweaty bodies and luckily Wonyoung’s parents’ house had a back garden, perks of living in the suburbs. From outside, the party’s music was muffled through the walls, toned down but still audible. You closed your eyes and let the night breeze cool your face. You only snapped out of it when you heard the sound of movements from the other side of the terrace. Initially you thought that it must have been a cat, so you were quite surprised when behind the huge kimchi jar there was none other than Kim Leehan.

“Jeez, what are you doing here?” You put a hand over your rapidly beating heart after such a jumpscare and eyed the guy sitting against the wall.

“What does it look like?” He asked, sheepishly for once with a scratch on his nape. It was so unlike his confident persona that charmed half the girls in your year. There was something lovely about it though, that he allowed you to see him like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re hiding? From girls?” You asked in a hushed voice and at first it was supposed to be a teasing joke but considering Leehan’s silence there must have been some truth in it. “Seriously, you are like 180cm, what can a bunch of girls do to you?”

You blurted it out without thinking but the moment it left your mouth, you realized how ridiculous that sounded. It didn’t matter that he was a guy or he was this tall, nobody deserved to be made to feel uncomfortable.

“Sorry, that was insensitive of me,” you apologized immediately, not wanting the boy to get defensive or hurt due to your unnecessarily harsh words. “But if they bother you so much, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it.”

Obviously you had never been in his shoes but you wanted to help, you wanted him to feel comfortable enough around you to share the burden, to not play it off when things got like this.

“Most girls are fine, they are respectful and I don’t mind being looked at,” Leehan sighed wistfully, leaning his head back against the wall, looking up at the sky, starless from all the light pollution in the big city. “But… some are too much.”

You felt your fingers twitch, sudden anger rising in your chest thinking about scenarios of what could have happened that made him come out to hide there. Did they grab him or touch him in a way he didn’t want to? Did some drunk girl force themselves upon him when he just wanted to have fun with his friends?

“Are you okay?” You asked, worried, keeping an eye closely on the boy’s facial expressions.

He hummed. It was not a very elaborate response but it was better than nothing. In the following silence though you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You looked back at the door, wondering when tipsy high schoolers would stumble out to smoke and to break this idyll. It must have looked like you were about to leave, not wanting to bother him because he spoke up, rushed as if he could miss you any minute.

“Can you stay?”

The depth of his voice was more apparent when he talked quietly. Or was it because of the dim light and the open space? You could practically feel it vibrate through your cells. There was no way you would have said no to that.

It was you who just hummed this time, not trusting your voice, and you squeezed yourself next to Leehan, into the space between him and the kimchi jar, the house wall cold against your back. It made you shiver lightly because in the recent lovely spring weather you forgone wearing an extra layer. The boy noticed though, he shrugged off the plaid shirt he wore over a white tee and covered your back and shoulders with it.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, suddenly surrounded by his warmth and the smell of sea salt even after he pulled back his hands.

“Tell me something,” Leehan whispered and despite initially not knowing what to say, you ended up telling him about your inexperience with parties and how moving around a lot affected your relationship with people and your sense of home. You told him that you were thinking of getting your own place instead of moving with your parents to a new city next time but you were afraid because you had never lived alone and you weren’t sure what your parents would have said either. You were so young yet the last few years had been so uncertain, a constant countdown until the next destination and you wanted to settle down for a bit, to call a place home for more than a few months. You wanted to get to know people without the constant fear of eventually losing touch with them.

Leehan was a good listener. He asked the right questions and shared his own perspective of things. There was nothing arrogant in the way he said that distance didn’t matter with the right people. At one point, once the heaviness of the topic subdued into a lighter conversation about your favorite places to be, he leaned his head on your shoulder, his locks tickling your ear and his closeness turning your cheeks rosy.

It was cozy, staying there with him, just talking. You didn’t even notice the party sounds dying down until Haewon called you to ask if you had already gone home without her. It could have been embarrassing how you didn't even notice time passing in Leehan’s company but you felt nothing of that sort. Shyly, you handed him back his shirt and wished him good night before catching up with Haewon.

You should have known that the girl famous for her intuitions wouldn’t leave it just like that. You were ambushed the moment the two of you were alone on the night bus.

“Sooo… where did you disappear off? Were you with Leehan?” She singsonged casually while you almost choked on your spit because you had never told her that the boy making you feel conflicted was Leehan. The pretty, popular boy of your grade, the prince of Yongsan High. The one almost everybody wanted. So cliché, so unnerving. And yet…

“Wh– what? How?” You spluttered, flustered but it only made Haewon giggle and coo at you.

“Please, I have seen how you look at him.”

“Oh, gosh, is it that obvious?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You didn’t think you were that gone. Scratch that, before the party you wholeheartedly believed that it was just curiosity and being friendly on your part. Maybe Haewon was right and you had no idea how simple friendship worked with boys.

“It’s cute. And don’t worry, I don’t think Leehan noticed. He’s used to more… aggressive type of love declarations.”

“I’m not declaring my love for him!” You objected because that was too much, too soon. You just realized that you liked him and you haven’t decided yet what to do with this new, fuzzy feeling spreading in your chest.

“Why not?”

Why not indeed? Was it not wanting him to lose this fragile safe space he found with you just because you couldn't stop yourself and fell in love when all he needed was a friend who understood? Or was it your usual mindset of keeping everybody at an arm’s length to not get too emotionally attached? You had no idea and it was too late into the night to figure it all out then.

Summer was approaching fast. It meant humid and sunny days, and way too many term end tests. It also meant two months without seeing Leehan which planted a kind of dread in your chest whenever you thought about it. At least you weren’t moving this time, not with your CSAT exams coming up in the second half of the year, so you had a bit more time to decide whether you wanted to stay here even if your parents moved away after your graduation.

Things only subtly changed after that party at Wonyoung’s. You didn’t necessarily look for each other’s presence at school, probably because both of you knew the rumors would be a pain to avoid if you did otherwise. You did text more though and not just about the previous neutral topics. Having been in Seoul for longer, Leehan started recommending places for you to visit for your YouTube channel and he knew that you wouldn’t belittle his complaints when he was annoyed by the way he was treated. He was also the perfect person to turn to when you had a bad day because he would listen and then he would make you feel better with his odd little jokes. He was such a dork under that popular pretty boy surface and you loved being able to see this side of him too. He also made sure to keep you updated about the school radio leader’s and your class president’s progress.

On a particularly hot June day, it was Leehan who nudged you in the side when he walked past you in the hallways.

“Let’s get ice cream after school,” he suggested casually as if it didn’t make your heartbeat go crazy, so you walked two blocks down from the school while arguing about the best Baskin Robbins flavors and went over the popsicles section of the corner convenience store only for Leehan to dig out the most artificial green colored one for its alien packaging. You laughed about the color of your tongues and the icy dessert melting all over your fingers and you had so much fun that for those few minutes you forgot about all the uncertainties in your life. Nothing mattered, just that moment with Leehan.

Haewon’s question (why not?) echoed in your ears at times like this.

It became a new habit sweeping well into summer: hanging out outside of school, looking for places with refreshing desserts to beat the heat. It was Italian-style gelato one week then bingsu or hwachae the next. You didn’t film but you kept posting pictures on your Instagram and you really underestimated the curiosity of your followers because one blurry reflection on the window was enough for people to conclude that you were on a date.

You knew for a fact that Leehan had the habit of stalking your comment section ever since he got so worked up about somebody making a mere comment on you gaining weight, but he didn’t say anything about this incident, which was probably for the best because honestly, you weren’t sure you could have played it off as coolly as when you had talked about not wanting dating rumors back in the day. Because what if it wasn’t rumors?

Next time you met up, Leehan pointed a finger at you in accusation even before he sat down at the table you already occupied.

“You went to an ocean-themed cafe without me?”

You blinked up at him in surprise, trying to make sense of what he was talking about when you remembered what you posted earlier to your Instagram.

“I was cafe hopping and found it by accident,” you explained that it wasn’t planned. If you knew, you surely would have told him about it. Even when you found the pretty coffee shop, you were so excited to tell him about it but then you had to remind yourself to tone it down, to not make your feelings too obvious.

“Still… Next time, you should take me with you,” Leehan said, pursing his lips a little child-like and you wanted to pinch his cheeks just above his adorable dimples. You curled your fingers into your hand to stop yourself.

“I’m not used to filming in company,” you told him because it was kind of a principle you had to fully pay attention to the people you were with instead of focusing on snapping pictures or recording. Maybe it was because your parents didn’t like it that you had your camera on you when you went out with them on those rare occasions they were free to give in to your request. With Leehan though, he might not have minded it but you were sure he would be distracting in the most heart-fluttering meaning of the word. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and it would be a mess. Your viewers would notice the same way Haewon had noticed too.

“Please~” The boy pouted (unfair!), fluttering his eyelashes under the loose strands of his long grown fringe and you felt your resolve weaken immediately.

“Just because you are pretty, it doesn’t mean you can just do that and I will give in,” you blurted out a protest in a weak attempt of keeping your composure. You didn’t even notice your subscious slipping through until Leehan’s pout turned into a content smile.

“Oh, so you do think I’m pretty.”

“I… that’s not the point!” You protested but Leehan seemed oddly satisfied with the new knowledge. He was whistling to the tone of a 2nd gen kpop song under his nose when the ahjumma came to take your orders and both of you were embarrassed because you didn’t bother looking at the menu since you arrived. The ahjumma smiled fondly and mumbled something about young love which turned you crimson but you hoped Leehan didn’t hear and didn’t notice. Luckily (or not), he was still hung up on your previous slip up.

“I thought you were immune to me,” he mumbled and he sounded so serious that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to joke about what kind of virus he would like to be then.

“What?” You blinked at him, not sure what brought this up but while you were confused, Leehan looked like this was something that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long and now that it was finally out he had a lot to explain.

“I mean, it’s not a terrible thing I guess. I like it that you treat me like a normal guy from day one, that you don’t swoon just because I walk past you on the school hallways and you aren’t afraid to call me out on my bullshit when I’m too much but then I kind of want you to be swooned by me. I know it doesn’t make sense but sometimes it bothers me so much that you don’t like me the way I like you.”

“I…” You gaped at him like a fish, speechless, but couldn’t even finish your clumsy excuse of sentence because Leehan was still rambling.

“Like look at me. How can you not?” He finally looked you in the eye and pointed at his face.

His all too lovely face with the warmest shade of brown in his playful eyes, the prettiest hair you would like to ruffle and the smart line of his rosy lips. At that moment he looked so young, so boyish, the teenager blemish barely visible on his face because in your eyes even the flaws made him more handsome.

“Leehan,” you said his name slowly, forming each syllable like it was an answer itself. Suddenly it wasn’t so scary to be honest because you now knew that he was just as unsure around you as you were with him. “I do like you but no offense, it has nothing to do with your looks.”

If you wanted to be honest, his looks were one thing you disliked about him in the beginning. You had known popular boys before who knew they looked good and they had always had the kind of ego that made their handsomeness turn sour in your mouth. But it became clear over time that he wasn’t one to use his good looks to get away with things and take advantage of girls’ feelings.

“Y/N,” Leehan called your name in a similar manner to the way you had done, a confused little frown sitting on his forehead and you wanted nothing more than to smooth it out. “There’s so much to unpack in that sentence.”

“Like?”

“Like when you say you like me, do you mean it in a friendly way?” He asked and he sounded so nervous asking it that you couldn’t help but giggle. He had said it first in his ramble, he wasn’t weirded out by your confession either nor did he brush it off and gosh, he sounded outright hopeful, so the relief made you feel giddy.

“Sure,” you smiled before casting your eyes down. “If wanting to hold hands with you and going on cheesy dates is a friendly thing to do.”

There was a moment of silence that made you so nervous you had to look up again and what you saw was better than seeing any breathtaking sunrise.

“Really?” Leehan whispered, his eyes shining with little stars in them.

“Really,” you nodded shyly before remembering his previous claim about so much to unpack and you cleared your throat. “What else?”

The soft smile melted off the boy’s face and something insecure flashed through his eyes as his fingers fumbled with the napkins on the table.

“And… does it mean that you like me but not the way I look? Like… am I not manly enough or–?”

“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant,” you interrupted quickly but not quickly enough because you never wanted him to feel that way to begin with. You scrambled to find the right words to explain this time. “I like you because you are caring and kind, you listen to my vents and try to help, you make boring stuff fun, you make me feel at home with you in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. It doesn’t matter how you look but to tell you the truth and not just to boost your ego, you are the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.”

“Oh, okay,” Leehan muttered but then giggled and the tips of his ears peeking out from between his wavy locks reddened adorably. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Kim Leehan getting flustered in front of you, because of you?

“Hold up… are you blushing?” You teased, softly, playfully and wholeheartedly smitten.

“Shut up,” Leehan mumbled but there was no edge in his tone, just a smile playing on his lips. So cute. “I like you too. A lot. In a friendly way if walking you home and kissing you goodbye is something friends do.”

This time it was your turn to flush, a cherry color appearing on your cheeks. You were pretty sure that that’s why the ahjumma turned on her heels when she walked up to your table again without asking about your orders. The menu cards were still untouched next to you.

You got to hold Leehan’s hand that day when he did good on his promise and walked you home. He also kissed you on the cheek by the gate because you both got shy but it was fine, you had the entire summer and all the time in the world. There was no need to rush anything.

Your first official date was at the aquarium for old time’s sake and it was the second time Leehan called you his girlfriend. You got distracted reading about the ‘Nemo fish’ and you didn’t realize that the boy wandered further away staring at a big tank full of fluorescent jellyfish as if it hadn’t been there before. By the time you caught up with him, there was a girl there, handing him her phone, smiling coyly. Last time you didn’t feel anything if not mild annoyance for being dragged into it but now you could feel your chest swelling with a new emotion. You had thought before that you would be jealous but what you actually felt was pride. That there was this beautiful, amazing boy and he liked you and he seemed proud of it too as he shot an apologetic smile towards the girl then saw you over her shoulder and his forced smile softened, its edges lifting up until his dimple showed.

“Sorry, I have a girlfriend,” he said and this time it was real.

He bowed politely towards the stranger then reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and you hid your smile in his arm as he pulled you farther away.

“Are you good?” You asked quietly, just to make sure that the girl didn’t make him feel uncomfortable because otherwise you might have had to go back and lecture her on basic manners.

“Never better,” Leehan replied, smiling against your temple with a brief kiss before pointing at a tank you passed by. “Did you know that angelfish mate for life?”

“No, I had no idea,” you chuckled and listened to your boyfriend tell you all about this species of fish you had never heard about before. It was perfect. You could have listened to him all day.

#stories #boynextdoor x reader #leehan x reader #boynextdoor fluff #leehan fluff

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kokoa-la · 2 years ago

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Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm.

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall.

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library.

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much.

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist.

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid.

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.”

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute.

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood #danny fenton #danny phantom #danny fenton is a huge nerd #figuring out interdimensional travel instead of finishing his 5 page english paper due 'like yesterday'#jason has done many things he regrets #breaking into a college isnt one #neither is asking out the cute nerd with eccentric capabilities #if only jason knew what he was getting into #boo #jason todd x danny fenton #dead on main #college au #gotham university

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avastrasposts · 1 year ago

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 31

I'm bad at writing summaries because I don't want to give any spoilers! But we left poor Frankie passed out at Joel's place, high on on pills and whiskey. Here's the aftermath....

Chapter 32 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 5.6k

The first conscious thought that moves through Frankie’s numb brain the next morning is how much his back hurts. He tries to move without waking up and the muscles along his spine spasm and twist, making him groan and peel open his eyes. It takes him a few moments to register where he is, he’s fallen sideways on a couch that’s not his own, his crooked neck killing him as he straightens out. Joel’s front door swims in to focus and last night’s memories start coming back.

A small pile of pills are still on the coffee table, next to the baggie. He doesn’t know how many he took yesterday but he collects them and puts them back in the bag, stuffing it in the bottom of his jeans pocket.

His mouth feels like cotton as he tries to swallow and he grabs the empty whiskey glass that’s digging into his thigh underneath him on the couch. Stumbling to the kitchen he rubs the heel of his hand over his eyes and tries to shake the cobwebs of alcohol and oxy out of his brain. He lets the tap run ice cold before he fills the glass, nearly choking on the water as he drinks. The coolness spreads through his limbs and he grips the edge of the sink, closing his eyes and swaying on his feet. The water continues to rush into the sink and with an impulsive thought, he bends forward and sticks his whole head under the faucet. It makes him gasp, forcing the air out of his lungs as the water rushes past his ears, into his eyes and nose. Spluttering he draws a few deep breaths, forcing himself to remain under the stream. Not until the tips of his ears are numb does he pull back and turn off the faucet. Water drips down on his shoulders, onto the floor as he stands up. He feels like a fool, hanging his head over the sink, trying to shake the water from his ears. But somehow it’s brought him some clarity, his mind isn’t as foggy and last night slowly comes back to him.

With a groan he sinks his head into his hands as he remembers leaving the apartment, walking away from her and passing out on Joel’s couch, aided by whiskey and oxy. The memory of her eyes when she realized he was high flashes into his mind and he groans again, the pain and grief he saw makes guilt force itself up through his throat. His body convulses and bile and half digested pills force their way up and out, he wretches into the sink, coughing and sputtering, fumbling for the knob to turn the water on again. He empties everything he has, spitting, the bile burning the back of his throat and he groans, cursing himself. The water rinses away the contents of his stomach and he manages to turn the tap off before he slides down onto the floor, his wet hair dripping, as he sinks his head into his hands again.

What the fuck have I done? What the fuck have I done? Frankie, you fucking idiot. He tilts his head back, eyes closed to the bright sunlight that’s streaming in through the kitchen window as he repeatedly thumps the back of his head against the back of the cupboard door, the dull pain rattling through his brain. Does she even wanna see me again? She's not gonna forgive this, how could she forgive this?

“Mornin’.” The gravel of Joel’s voice is as rough as Frankie feels and he only grunts in response. A kitchen towel lands on the floor next to him and he drags it across his wet hair as Joel moves towards the coffee pot. His steps are as slow and sluggish as Frankie’s and every sound he makes is making Frankie wince.

“Thanks for letting me crash, I’m gonna head out,” he mutters, carefully getting to his feet.

“Have some coffee before you go,” Joel says, placing the pot on the stove, “you look like shit, get something in you before you face your wife.”

“Not sure I have a wife anymore,” Frankie mumbles, stumbling towards the front door, but the ache in his head makes him change his mind, and he slumps down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Did you hit her?” Joel asks and Frankie’s eyes widen.

“No, what the fuck? Of course not!”

“Did you sleep with some other woman? Or man?” Joel's mouth twitches in the smallest of smirks and Frankie scowls.

“Fuck no! I would never do that to her”

“She ain't too keen on you using?” Joel pulls the coffee pot off the hob as it boils and sets it on the table.

Frankie sighs and rubs his hand over his face, the smell of coffee actually making his empty stomach grumble. “I’m an addict,” he confesses, “before the outbreak, I was addicted to coke, Pope kicked my ass and I got sober. But someone was smuggling Xanax in Arlington and I started using it to help me sleep…after…” Frankie sighs again and Joel nods, he understands all too well, “and I got addicted again. She helped me get clean that time.”

Joel pulls out a chair and sits down, placing a mug in front of Frankie, “Explains why Will was so against smuggling drugs.” He pours himself coffee and pushes the pot across the table, “I won’t stop trading it though, but I won’t sell to you again,” he says, “I’m cutting you off.”

“Yeah, you should,” Frankie mumbles, taking a careful sip of the scalding hot coffee and wincing. Joel does the same and for a few minutes both men sit in silence, letting the coffee work its way through their systems.

Eventually Joel clears his throat and leans back, the mug still in his hand, “I ain’t a good man, Frankie, I know that, but maybe things would’ve been different if I had someone like her in my corner. So you just need to go home and do whatever it takes to make her happy again.”

Frankie only grunts in response and Joel takes another sip as Frankie swirls the dregs of his coffee round the bottom of the mug, his eyes unfocused and lost in thought. Joel sighs and rubs his hand over his face, glancing over at the younger man’s troubled face before he leans over the table and raps his knuckles hard just in front of Frankie’s mug, making him startle and look upl.

“Morales, it’s clear you ain’t shit without her, she’s keeping you alive. So just go back home and tell her you’re not doing runs with me until you’re doing ok, and that I’m cutting you off from the oxy.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough any more,” Frankie says, looking down at the coffee dregs again, “I lied to her face, said I wasn’t using, I walked away when she was trying to help, I’ve hurt her too many times an-”

Joel shakes his head and stands up, kicking his boot against the other man’s chair, interrupting him.

“Get up, Frankie, you’re fucking lost without her, just go tell her that. And anyway, I’m not letting you drown yourself in coffee in my kitchen.”

…

Frankie blinks against the sharp March light when he gets out of Joel’s apartment. He left home without a jacket yesterday and now he shivers as he stands on the sidewalk. Joel had told him to go home and he thinks that might be what he has to do, even if he doesn’t know if you’ll let him call it home again. In some small corner of his mind he knows you’ve never pushed him away, never not supported him when he needed help. But his mind is reeling, and the panic is still simmering in his chest.

What if she’s given up on me now? Maybe I’ve finally fucked up so much that she’s had enough?

He tucks his hands into his armpits and starts walking, the heavy feeling of panic in his belly growing with every step, the coffee in his empty stomach making his mouth taste sour.

He sees you just as he gets home, he turns the corner and you’re standing outside the apartment building with Pope. He’s too much of a coward to call your name, to let you see him, instead he just stops and stares at your profile. It’s Pope that spots him first and he nods his head towards him and you turn. The way your face crumples when you see him, it’s like a knife in his heart, like he’s stuck a knife in himself and now he’s twisting it as you start walking towards him, breaking into a run. You skid to halt just in front of him and your eyes are scanning his face, he feels tears form and fall before he even realizes he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gulps for air, he can feel his body shaking and then your arms are around him, pulling him into you and he sobs, his chest heaving under you. Your arms hold him up as he buries his face against your neck and clings to you and he knows he’ll fall if you don’t keep your arms around him. Your hands are bunching up his shirt, he can feel it straining over his back, your fingers digging into the knots of his spine, you’re pulling him as close as you can and he finally lifts his arms and winds them around your waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobs, holding onto the back of your jacket, trying to find his footing as you pull him tighter.

“I thought I lost you, Frankie,” you gasp through your own tears, “I thought you were gone.”

“D-do you still w-want me here?” he chokes out, his face pressed against your soft hair, your smell enveloping him, all the memories of being this close to you flooding his mind. If you say no now, he doesn’t know how he’ll let go, he won’t be able to unwrap his arms from around you.

“Al-always, always, always,” you stutter out, pulling your face back enough so that you can see him, his eyes red, puffy and broken. He smells of stale alcohol, bitter coffee and he looks like a mess and it breaks your heart that he’s fallen so deep so fast, you should’ve forced him away from Joel, from the smuggling months ago. You press your lips against his cheek and your hand finds its way into the messy curls at the back of his head, damp and cold. Pulling his cap off you cup the back of his head and hold him against you..

“When will you understand that I’ll always want you, Francisco Morales?” you mumble, and you feel his hands tighten their grip on your jacket and his body heaves with a deep sob, choking back on his tears.

“Hermano,” Pope’s voice is calm and gentle as he puts his hand on Frankie’s shoulder, “Let’s get you inside, ok?”

Frankie nods and you move and take hold of his hand as Pope puts his arm around his waist, giving him a small nudge to get him moving. When you get him inside the apartment Pope leads him to the couch and sets him down and Frankie slumps over, his elbows on his hands, cradling his head.

“Fish, look at me,” Pope says softly, crouching down in front of him, tapping him gently on his arm and Frankie looks up. Pope seems to study his face for a few seconds, locking eyes with him, and then he nods.

“Ok, you’re sober at least,” he says, giving his shoulder a squeeze and standing up as Frankie buries his face in his hands again.

“You’ve got to talk to her now, Frankie, you know you’ve got to drop this shit and put in the hard work again. But I’ve seen you do it before, I know you can do this.”

Frankie shakes his head in his hands and mumbles something incoherent and Santi looks over at you, “I’ll be back later, tonight, and check on him, on you both. But I think you two need to talk first, ok?”

You nod and gratefully accept Santi’s hug as wraps his arms around you, “Thank you, you’re a rock, Santi,” you mumble into his shoulder as he rubs your back.

“And you’re his rock, don’t forget that,” he replies, kissing your cheek before he steps away and leaves.

“Did you eat anything yet, Frankie?” you ask, sitting down next to him and letting your hand run up and down his back.

“Don’t leave me,” he mumbles into his hands, his voice is low, raspy from his ragged breathing, and you thread your fingers through his curls.

“I’ll never leave you,” you whisper, your chin resting on his shoulder. He drops his hands from his face and looks up at you, his eyes still red and raw, he looks so pained it makes your heart shatter and you take his hands, scooting yourself up further on the couch.

“Come here, Frankie, lie down with me for a little bit,” you tell him, pulling him with you. You lie back, making room for him next to you and he crawls up after you, stretching out on the couch. He’s half on top of you and you bring his head down onto your shoulder, carding your fingers through his curls, scratching at his scalp. His boots are heavy against your legs but you tug his thigh higher up over your waist as he curls into you, his arms wrapping around you.

“I’m getting you through this Frankie, I’m not letting this destroy you,” you mumble, your lips pressed against his forehead. He’s cold and clammy, you can feel his shivers and you pull the quilt down over you both. “You’ve just got to remember that I’m never giving up on you, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and alive and with me.” You tighten your grip on him, your jaw clenching hard when your mind brushes up against the thought of not having him with you. “I’m so afraid of losing you, Frankie. I’ll never be mad or disappointed in you, I’m just scared of losing you because I can’t do this life without you.”

You hear him sniffle against your shoulder, a quiet sob shaking him.

“I’m sorry I fucked up,” he whispers against your shirt, “I just wanted my head to be quiet.”

“I know, Frankie, and I’ll help you with it,” your fingers scratching across his scalp, letting his damp curls run through your fingers. “Let’s just stay here for a little while, and then I’ll make us some food when you feel ready, ok?”

You feel him nod and his arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer, “I’m here, Frankie, my love, I’m not leaving,” you soothe him.

You stay still, pressed against him until you lose track of time. Frankie falls asleep, a restless slumber where his arms twitch and he mutters under his breath. Eventually he jerks awake, a shout coming from him as he half sits up, his eyes blinking open with confusion.

“Frankie,” you say, reaching up and cupping his cheek, “I’m here, love, I’m here.”

He stares at you, his eyes unfocused for a few seconds before he sighs and drops his forehead against yours.

“I dreamt that you left,” he mumbles, his voice rough with sleep but steadier, “but you’re still here.”

“Always, Frankie,” you smile, sliding your fingertips over his scruffy beard, it’s longer than usual and starting to curl in places. You reach up to press your lips against his and he suddenly pulls back.

“Don’t” he mumbles, a pink blush creeping up his neck and you look at him with surprise, “I threw up earlier, I need to brush my teeth.”

You change your trajectory and press your lips to the tip of his nose instead, “Thanks for the heads up,” you smile as you look at him again. “Why don’t you go clean up, take a shower maybe? And I’ll make us some lunch and get coffee going.”

He nods but pulls you in for a tight hug before he pushes himself off the couch and lets you sit up.

As you turn to walk to the kitchen you suddenly feel his hand grip yours and you turn back to him.

“Do you still love me?” he asks, his voice low and his eyebrows furrowed as his thumb rubs over the back of your hand. You look back at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Always, Frankie, I always love you.” You step back to him and stand on your tiptoes, reaching up to kiss the bare patch on his scruffy chin. “Now take a shower, you kinda stink,” you smile at him as his face softens, his eyes losing a bit of their pained look.

Frankie lets the hot water run over his body, almost scalding him, but when he comes back out into the kitchen he feels almost normal again. You’re standing by the stove, stirring a pot and he stops and exhales, watching you from behind as the afternoon light catches the color in your hair, your low hum as you try to remember the words to an old Springsteen song. You step to the side and reach up and grab two bowls, your t-shirt riding up, revealing soft, smooth skin as your jeans, always a size too big, slip lower on your hips. He swallows, the small baggie crinkling in his hand as his fingers twitch, and you hear him, turning around with a smile that makes his cheeks feel warm, a comfort in his bones. .

“Feel better?” you ask and he nods, coming over to you and holding out the bag.

“The last ones I had on me,” he says, giving it to you and you look down at the four small white pills as you take it.

“What are they?” you ask, holding the bag as if handling it too roughly will make it split open and contaminate the room.

“Oxy, or some version of it that FEDRA makes,” Frankie says, “I want you to get rid of it, I don’t trust myself.”

You look up at him, his eyes are on the pills and when he notices that you’re watching him, he pulls his gaze away from them, turning so that he’s leaning against the counter, the bag of pills out of view.

You turn and go to the bathroom, after a few seconds he hears the toilet flush and you come back out.

“They’re gone, Frankie. But I know you know where to get more, we’re gonna need to work together to get through this,” you say, taking his hand and pulling him closer to your side as you go back to stirring the pot with the other.

“Joel said he won’t sell to me anymore;” Frankie mumbles, pressing himself to you.

“Joel sold them to you?” you ask, a hard edge to your voice as you look up at Frankie and he waves his hand, shaking his head.”

“He didn’t know I’m an addict, no one told him, and when I told him about it this morning, he said he’s cutting me off.”

“At least that’s a start,” you say, your voice softer again, “Is that where you were last night? Joel’s?”

“Yeah,” he says, handing you the bowls as you turn the heat off under the pot. “I wasn’t thinking and I just, somehow, ended up there. It was the worst place to go.”

“What happened?” you ask and Frankie seems to shrink in on himself again as he sits down, sinking low in the chair.

“We got high on the oxy, and whiskey,” he says, “I don’t remember much, but we talked a bit, about Lucía, and Sarah.”

“I’ve never heard Joel talk about Sarah,” you say, “Tommy mentions her sometimes, but never when Joel’s around.”

“He didn’t say much last night either I think, but…” Frankie pauses, remembering what Joel had said just a few hours earlier, “he said maybe he would be different if he’d had someone like you, that you’re keeping me alive, that I’m lost without you.” Frankie gives you a weak smile, “He’s right, I’m so fucking lost without you.”

“I’m lost without you too, Frankie,” you say, gripping his hand across the table.

“He kicked me out, told me to go back home, even though I wasn’t sure you’d let me come home.”

“Frankie,” you sigh, a small smile creeping up on your face, “I love you more than anything, you’re the love of my life and you are the one thing that’s kept me alive these past ten years, but I swear, if you ever think I don’t want you, ever again, I’m gonna ask Will and Benny to slap you. In tandem.”

That makes him chuckle lightly, a sound that makes your heart feel warm.

“Thanks for the warning, I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles back at you.

“Good,” you smirk, taking his bowl and ladeling up soup for him.

“Joel also said to tell you he’s not gonna do runs or trades with me, like you wanted. And…” he hesitates, remembering how he’d blown up when you suggested it, “I’m gonna stop with the smuggling, at least going outside the wall, maybe I can just help with trades in the QZ.” Frankie says, taking the bowl from you.

“Really?” you say, “That makes me really relieved, Frankie! I really think that’s what you need to get your PTSD under control again.”

Frankie puts his spoon down and rubs his hand over the back of his neck, his eyebrows pulled together as you look at him, “I’m sorry I yelled at you when you suggested it yesterday, you’re right, going outside the walls, doing trades out there, it’s made everything worse. But I just don’t wanna stop doing it, I still don’t wanna, but…” he trails off, shaking his head and sighs. “I used to be able to just do whatever shit they asked of us in the army, and just shut it out, and sleep at night. But when I couldn’t do it anymore, coke was the easy answer. And when I got past the addiction and got my shit together again, and I met you, it was easy to not be tempted. Not once in our year before the outbreak was I tempted to use, despite the nightmares, and I thought I was past it.” He rubs his hand over his face, sliding it back up to his neck and you move your chair so that you’re sitting next to him, taking his other hand.

“But after Lucía…if I’d had any drugs around then, I would’ve taken anything to make those nightmares stop…” He’s rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, endless circles while he talks, “And then it just got worse until Arlington and Herb. He showed me how to control it, to make things calm again, even if everything around me went to shit, even when I was doing runs with Pope and we got into dangerous situations. But after New York…” he pauses and looks up at you, cupping your check with his hand, running his thumb over the soft skin. “After you got taken by Will’s guys, even when you came back with Will, nothing helped. That’s when I started getting worse.”

“Frankie, that was over five years ago,” you say softly, “why didn’t you say something?”

“I should’ve,” he sighs, “fuck…I really should’ve, but at first it wasn’t too bad, and you know me…” he gives you a crooked smile, “I told you from the beginning, talking about it is always the hardest thing.”

“You think you’ve failed…” you whisper, moving closer to him so that you can put your arms around his neck as he nods.

“And I know the runs made things worse, but even now, I still think it’s the one thing I’m good at. I make a difference when I help bring in stuff people really need.”

“But not at the expense of your own mental health, Frankie,” you say, threading your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, still damp from his shower, and tugging lightly. “I know you guys make a difference, but to me, you’re more important than anyone else, and I have to keep you safe.”

He nods and sighs, leaning into your touch as he feels the warmth of your palms against the cool skin of his neck.

“And Joel…” he says, “it sounds weird, but the way he is, it gave me permission to be like that too. It was like I didn’t have to reflect over what I was doing because he was showing me it was ok to do it…” Frankie pauses and looks down on his hands, words still hanging on the tip of his tongue. He sighs and looks up at you, a guilty look in his eyes, “It felt good, doing it,” he says, his voice low, “it felt really good doing it. People were scared of me, I could make them do whatever I wanted or…or just make things go quiet for a while.”

“Frankie,” you whisper, “you said I thought you were a monster for what you did but I ne-.” He winces at that, dropping his gaze back to his hands.

“I am a monster,” he mutters, shaking his head, “I’ve done-”

“You’re not a monster,” you cut him off, tugging at his hair and making him look at you again, meeting his pained brown eyes with your own, a determined tone to your voice. “You are not a monster and I have never, ever thought that about you. And don’t you dare say that about yourself.” You hold his eyes firm, daring him to contradict you but he just swallows and gives you a small nod.

“You’ve been through so much shit, Frankie, but you’re still here. You make mistakes and you fall sometimes, but you’re still fucking here despite it all,” you bring your forehead to his, holding him tight against you as his arms curl around your waist. “Give yourself some credit and don’t you fucking dare think you’re a monster. You’re my Frankie and you’re still the best man I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath against your lips as he closes his eyes, breathing deep.

“I just told you, you’re the best man I’ve ever known,” you say, letting him pull you closer, onto his lap so that he can rest his head against your chest, the old kitchen chair creaking under your combined weight.

“I’m gonna get past this,” he mumbles, “I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes, you deserve it.”

“One day at a time, Frankie,” you say, leaning over and carefully picking up his bowl, “Start by eating your soup.”

…

As he promised, Pope came by later that night, checking in on you both. He sat and talked to Frankie for a long time while you made dinner and washed the clothes he’d slept in the night before. Both men were emotional when Pope finally stood up and pulled Frankie into a hug, before leaving again.

“I’m gonna go look for a regular job in the QZ,” Frankie tells you as he comes out into the kitchen. “Pope’s gonna talk to the others, tell ‘em I’m out.” He sighs and you pull him in for a hug, kissing his scruffy cheek when he leans his head on your shoulder.

“I’ll talk to Sean, maybe he knows someone who needs the help of a big, strong man to lift heavy things or something,” you smile at him and he grumbles against your neck.

You keep Frankie close for the next few days, there’s no immediate need for him to run out and get a soul sucking FEDRA assignment. Instead you get him to come with you to the radio office and he helps Sean with some repairs that he’s been putting off. The next day one of Sean’s friends comes by and asks if Frankie can help with a broken door lock and before you know it, Sean has spread the word of Frankie’s handyman skills around the QZ.

“So Frankie’s now ‘Frankie the Fixer, or is that ‘Fish the Fixer’?” Benny chuckles at his own joke as he sinks down next to you on the couch at the back of the bar. The fire is going in the fireplace but it’s almost not needed; the past two weeks have seen a change in the harsh Boston weather and spring is now very much in the air.

“Don’t make fun of him, Benny, he needs this, he’s doing so much better,” you scold him and he smiles.

“I promise, no handyman jokes,” he chuckles again.

“He’s really doing better?” Will asks, “I haven’t seen him in a while, he’s been so busy.”

“Yeah, he is doing better,” you say, “I mean, not good, not by a long shot, but moving in the right direction you know?”

“Good,” Will nods, “I talked to Joel and he said Frankie hasn’t even talked to him since that night so cutting him off worked.”

“You guys aren’t working at all with Joel now?” you ask, raising your hand at Santi as he comes in through the door and makes a beeline for the bar.

“No, not really, not as long as he continues to trade drugs, that’s a hard no. We help each other out a bit, warnings about FEDRA activity, that kind of stuff,” Will answers, “Tommy said he’s looking to partner with someone else, but so far anyone Tommy has suggested Joel has said no to.”

“He’s still trading oxy, he’s got some contact, managing to bring it in,” Benny says in a low voice, “But we could never work with him while he’s doing that, not after Frankie.”

“I really appreciate that, Ben,” you say and he gives you a little side hug as Pope joins the three of you, sinking down in one of the empty armchairs.

“Fish not here yet?” he asks, “I wanted to ask him about a job he needed help with.”

“He’ll be here soon,” you say, “he said he had to go over to the east side to see if he could get a spare part for Sean.”

Pope nods but keeps looking at you like he’s thinking about something and you raise your eyebrows at him, “What’s up, Santi?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking, you still sure he’s not using anymore?”

“Yes, why?” you ask, you feel worry flare up in your guts as you lean forward, “Did you notice something?”

“No, nothing, I don’t know…” he says, “Maybe it’s just my paranoia, it just felt too easy, getting him clean, you know what I mean?”

“He wasn’t using that long this time,” you reply, “just a few times after that run to Concord.”

“Yeah…” Pope scratches his beard, still thinking, “Is he sleeping ok, how are his nightmares?”

“He’s not sleeping great, he falls asleep quickly but wakes up with nightmares every night. But he’s normal during the days, I mean, he’s tired, but he doesn’t seem slow or sluggish.”

Pope nods and you lean back again, but now there’s a little knot of worry in your belly, Frankie wasn’t back to normal, but at least you thought he was doing better, he seemed calmer and more alert than he had been since the run to Concord. But it was clear that his PTSD was still haunting him, that wouldn’t disappear overnight, it took him months to get back to some sort of normality in Arlington with Herb. But that didn’t matter, you had time, as long as he wasn’t using anymore. You glance towards the bar’s front door, willing Frankie to turn up soon.

…

He felt like shit doing this, going behind your back. But he just needed a little, to keep his mind in check while he got the PTSD under control, while he went through the tools Herb had taught him. Or at least that’s what he’s telling himself. Just a half one here and there to help him sleep and take the edge off.

He shuffles his feet as he waits outside the front door of a derelict building in a part of the QZ he seldom comes to. He’s been told about it by a woman who’s shower drain he’d unclogged. He shuddered at the memory, both from the sludge he’d pulled up from the drain, and from the way she looked at him when she offered to pay him with sex instead of the ration cards they’d agreed on. She was clearly high on something and just the sheer sight of her pallid skin and lifeless tangled hair had almost made him resist asking where she got her supplies. She’d dropped her shirt down again when he asked, hiding her dirty bra, and scoffed.

“If I’d known, I could’ve paid you with a pill instead,” she’d said and thrusted the ration cards into his hand. She gave him an address down at Battery Wharf and now here he was, guilt trickling down the back of his neck.

The door in front of him opens and a surly looking man glances at him before checking the rest of the street.

“What do you want?” he sneers, his hand firmly around a heavy looking baseball bat.

“I’m here to see Tess.”

Chapter 32

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #angst #frankie morales angst #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader

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livelaughlovesubs · 4 months ago

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SPOILER FOR NEW HSR CHARACTER

I think Rappa would have looked cuter with baggy jeans

#nini!rant #js saying #she looks too sexualised otherwise #and so naked for some reason #hsr rappa #rappa #rappa hsr

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siilvan · 1 year ago

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OC File: Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

gorgeous renders by the amazing wonderful phenomenal lovely @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot <33

finally posting my oc to cope with mw3... i've had her since november '22, didn't even mention her name to anyone until august lol. i've never had the confidence (or skill) to do this, so i'm thanking all of my mutuals with their wonderful ocs for giving me the strength to do it, even if they don't know it <3

note: despite petra being reader's callsign in bloodsport, it is not intended to be my oc. so far, the only fics that petra properly appears in are desideria and fortuna redux. i know it's confusing and i'm sorry 😭 more of her (and others) in the future!

very long post BTC...

edit: completely forgot to include this— credit to cptnprice for the file!!

GENERAL

Name: Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Nicknames/Aliases: Petra, Doc, Bravo 0-5, MEDINT 5, Leni (by friends/family)

Rank: Lieutenant (since 2015)

Gender: Female

Birth Date: June 29, 1990

Nationality: Dutch

Affiliations: Royal Netherlands Army, Korps Commandotroepen, Task Force 141, Coalition (Warcom), SpecGru

Birthplace: Rotterdam, Netherlands

Current Residence: The Hague, Netherlands

APPEARANCE

Hair Color: Golden Brown

Eye Color: Blue (right), Green (left)

Height: 5'7" (1.70 m)

Weight: 160 lbs (72 kg)

Build: Athletic, hourglass (hips. That's all.)

Blood Type: O-

Marks: Various tattoos (pictured below), scar on cheek

Faceclaim: Rianne Haspels (Carlotta Champagne for body)

DETAILS

Sexuality: Unlabeled (prefers men)

Languages: Dutch (native), English (C2), Spanish (A2), French (B2), German (C1), Danish (C1), Russian (B2), Arabic (B1)

Education: Biochemistry BS from the University of Amsterdam, Biochemistry MSc from the University of Copenhagen

Preferred Hairstyles: Low bun or Dutch braid for missions, 3-strand braid or loose for everyday

Preferred Mission Attire: Anything from jeans and a turtleneck, to slim cargos and a tank top, to proper combat fatigues. Dresses for the weather, but hates anything baggy. Prefers to wear black and green, occasionally wears white, tan, or blue. Very athletic style.

Preferred Civilian Attire: Usually dresses fairly casual. Jeans, cargos, leather pants, leggings. Plain t-shirts, henleys, turtlenecks, off-shoulder tops. Wears bomber jackets or hoodies. Mostly wears black, green, or white. Likes feeling comfortable but cute when she's off the clock.

Favorite Color: Evergreen

Favorite Flower: Magnolia

PERSONALITY

Myers-Briggs Type: ENFJ-T. Extraverted, intuitive, feeling, judging, and turbulent. Petra prioritizes the better of the group over personal benefit and strives to have a positive impact on the world and the people around her. Happy to lead or follow, but preferring to guide others, she is a self-identified humanitarian with a pipe dream of world peace. Reliability, tolerance, passion, and altruism ultimately conflict with overthinking, stubbornness, perfectionism, and indecisiveness – Petra is both helped and hindered by the idea of what things can be or could have been.

FAMILY

Father: Colonel Hendrik "Chimera" Scholten de Ridder. Former KCT commander and military legend-turned terrorist. (deceased)

Mother: Johanna Scholten de Ridder (née van den Bos). Former MEDINT analyst for the BVD and MID. (deceased)

Brother: Sergeant Emiel "Nightfall" Scholten de Ridder. KCT operative and specialist in anything covert; never misses a shot. Ally of TF141, rarely stays in any one place for long due to the nature of his assignments.

Uncle: Unnamed paternal uncle. Father's younger brother, civilian military engineer. Lost his life in a terrorist attack in the mid-1990s. (deceased)

Aunt: Special Agent Merel "Songbird" van den Bos. Mother's older sister, former agent for the BVD and MID. Specialist in foreign relations and espionage. May or may not be living in the USA and married to Frank Woods (spoiler: she is).

Grandfather: General Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Paternal grandfather, former commander of the Royal Netherlands Army. Yes, her brother is named after him. (deceased)

SKILLS

Fighting Style: Adaptable, but prefers to keep her distance. Studied kickboxing, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and Krav Maga in her youth – CQC is influenced by these.

Weapons: Can use whatever is available. Is oddly talented with a quarterstaff despite none of her training involving it.

Preferred Weapons: M4 (Hightower 20" Barrel, Schlager PEQ Box IV laser, Cronen Mini Pro optic, Corio Precio Factory stock), X12, Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife, karambit, throwing knives

Special Skills: Specializes in MEDINT analysis, trauma/medical care, chemical warfare, hostage rescue, asset protection, and foreign military assistance. Can act as a translator. Has received training in sniping, espionage, and stealth combat from allies. Is notorious for her strong fortitude. Very versatile.

Hobbies: Art, cooking, baking, reading, sports (baseball, climbing, kickboxing, swimming, ice skating), music (drums), studying languages

Former Hobbies: Did ballet and gymnastics in her youth. Still enjoys both, doesn't have the time to practice either. Has decent equilibrium thanks to them.

TRIVIA

The name Mylène can mean "merciful", Scholten refers to a schout (government official that handled administration of justice), and de Ridder means "the knight".

Her callsign Petra means "rock, stone" and is not implying that she's a stony person! She earned her callsign due to her high tolerance and endurance; she's also uniquely durable, often recovering from or withstanding injuries that would leave others in worse condition. It's a bit supernatural, don't worry about it.

Was introduced to drumming by her Uncle Frank when she was little. It's canon to me.

Mylène looks like a carbon copy of her aunt, sans some details like hair and eye color. She's also more well-built than her aunt thanks to being in the military.

Has a bunch of small rituals, habits, and very specific ways of doing things thanks to her OCD – nothing too crazy (she has no choice but to manage these thanks to her career), but you'll start to notice them if you're around her enough.

Has polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). She's learned ways to lessen the symptoms and has an IUD that helps immensely, but it's why she still has a decent amount of fat on her body despite working out religiously. (Not projecting my issues shh)

Doesn't date often due to her career and personal reservations. Prefers someone older, though. (I'm not projecting shh x2)

Keeps a journal on her at almost all times. Inside of it is anything from basic medical info for her allies, random drawings, important notes, etc. Likes to pretend it's organized, but it's not. At all.

Skipped a year in primary school, hence why she graduated at 17 instead of 18 despite attending a VWO school.

It was painfully obvious that she learned her Russian in school before she met Nikolai. After he laughed at her, he taught her how to sound more "natural" – AKA, he taught her almost exclusively profanity.

Bouncing off that, she's Mrs. Worldwide. Petra's unintentionally picked up so much slang from her coworkers.

Her favorite genres of literature are romance and philosophy. She can read outrageous smut with a straight face, but blushes and grins over fluffy stuff. Tries to read books in other languages to practice, too!

Will not touch any drug with a 10-foot pole. Same goes for tobacco, she's the type to dramatically cough if the team smokes around her. She's very health-conscious!!

TATTOOS

source 1 source 2

Tattoo One (Hands) I'm not going to lie... originally gave Petra the tattoo (two, actually – she has it on both hands) because I loved Freya's tattoos in GOW and the design is inspired by those. From an in-universe standpoint, it was her first tattoo (age 17) and she just wanted something simple that could be hidden under her gloves to prevent fading. Has to get them touched up every now and then.

Tattoo Two (Right Arm) Full sleeve of willow branches, florals, and butterflies. There's a lot of symbolism in this one. The butterflies represent transformation, hope, and rebirth; the willow branches symbolize a new life, protection, flexibility, and adaptability; the flowers embody anything from growth, joy, transience, hope, love, and death.

source 3 source 4

Tattoo Three (Left Bicep) Two-headed snake with flowers! I don't think I need to rhapsodize about the florals again, so I'll skip to the snake. Depending on the culture, a two-headed serpent can represent wildly different things. It's a symbol of rebirth and resurrection, with each head representing earth and the underworld. It can symbolize indecision and conflicting ideas. Duality, balance, power, healing, insight, and deeper awareness; snakes were often seen as a spiritual messenger, and the dual nature of a two-headed serpent represents learning from both positive and negative experiences. (if I see any "heehoo konni" comments, I will blow up the sun, this ain't about him babygirls 😔)

Tattoo Four (Left Inner Forearm) Compass with an arrow! The symbolism is pretty obvious, I think... Direction, guidance, and navigation; the compass arrow combines the arrow's representation of direction and forward movement and the compass' symbolism of finding your way and staying on course. Together, it represents the idea that, no matter how far away you are, your arrow will always hit its target – even when losing your way, you'll always be able to overcome adversity and find your way back.

BACKGROUND

⋆ CW: themes of child abuse, violence, SA (marked with ***) and overall mary sue levels of tragedy

Born on June 29, 1990 in the city of Rotterdam, Netherlands, to Hendrik Scholten de Ridder and Johanna Scholten de Ridder, Mylène had a normal – if not privileged, thanks to her family's prominent histories – early childhood. At the age of 3, her brother, Emiel, was born. Known to be a clever, compassionate girl, Mylène took to the "big sister" role with ease.

Her father was a captain from a distinguished military family with the callsign "Chimera", who ascended to the rank of colonel and commanded the Royal Netherlands Army’s special forces unit, the Korps Commandotroepen. Her mother was a medical intelligence analyst for the AIVD and MIVD (then-known as the BVD and MID) with a family history in government and politics.

In the late fall of 1999, when Mylène was only 9 years old, she came home from school and discovered her mother's corpse, having been killed by enemies of her father originally seeking to hold the family for ransom. This event, paired with the traumas he sustained over his years in the military, drove her father to "near insanity" as he became consumed with paranoia and grief. The rest of her and her brother's adolescence was defined by the trauma of her father's abuse; he subjected the siblings to rigorous physical and psychological training in order to mold them into "perfect soldiers" and prevent any further loss.

Despite this, her father was publicly viewed as a war hero. He would often leave the two alone when he was on deployment, forcing Mylène to care for herself and her brother with nothing more than a roof over their heads and grocery money provided. The siblings developed an unbreakable bond during this time that would extend into their adulthoods, rendering them a synergic duo both at home and in the field.

After finishing secondary school at 17, Mylène enlisted in the Royal Netherlands Army. She also studied at the University of Amsterdam – taking online classes – and eventually graduated with a BS in Biochemistry. She spent 3 years serving in various military hospitals, clinics, and field units under the 400 Medical Battalion, until she joined selection for the KCT in 2011. She was swiftly recognized for her high tolerance, natural interpersonal skills, and advanced aptitude for MEDINT analysis; she passed selection with top marks, setting several records during the infamous "hell week" exercise.

Mylène operated as a combat medic until August 2013, when she worked with the British SAS's Unit Bravo under the command of Captain John Price. Despite the joint team being greatly reduced in number and separated after a series of heavy artillery attacks from enemy forces, Mylène managed to provide emergency medical care and calm leadership as her party made its way to the rendezvous point that Price's group was defending.

After the joint operation concluded, Price took an interest in her, deciding to train her as a sniper and teach her how to better use her skills in combat. The two quickly developed a close relationship built upon mutual trust and a desire to fight for what's right, regardless of rules or orders. At some point after this, her unflappable nature and composure when faced with challenging conditions earned her the callsign "Petra".

*** By 2014, Mylène was in a several year-long relationship with a National Reserve Corps (NATRES) NCO named Florian Van Aller. On February 14 of that year, he suddenly came to her with an idea that left her speechless: "sharing" her with his unit. Despite his insistence and attempt to pressure her into it, Mylène refused, ending the relationship. They met on base the next day after Florian messaged her claiming to want to apologize – when she came face-to-face with him and his mentor, Captain Jozef Daalmans, she realized what she had been told was a lie.

*** Although the captain's only involvement was restraining her and watching, Mylène felt violated by both men. She was left at the scene, battered and ashamed, until the last person she expected to help found her – Colonel Hendrik Scholten de Ridder. In a rare act that she now describes as "the last time she ever saw her real father," he comforted her and took her to the hospital, where Mylène received treatment for the injuries she sustained in the assault. She never spoke of the incident afterwards, leaving herself, her father, and her attackers as the only people privy to it.

In early 2015, an assault team led by Chimera and Petra on an enemy submarine revealed that there was a traitor within the unit. The entire team, save for Chimera and Petra themselves, was killed onboard the vessel. The traitor was eventually discovered to be Chimera himself, with Petra as the only witness to his admission and subsequent attempt to bury her, and any incriminating evidence, at sea. With her father in the wind and knowing that her word alone wouldn't be enough to implicate him for his crimes, Petra contacted Captain Price, telling him: "You're the only person I can trust."

An unsanctioned operation to capture or kill Chimera was planned by the two, with the help of her brother – now a KCT operative nicknamed "Nightfall" – and Nikolai, a trusted contact of Price's. The small team managed to track the Colonel and his supporters to a base deep in the Alps, where they successfully wiped out the entire group and killed Chimera. After this mission, Petra felt indebted to Price and Nikolai, considering them two of the few people she could trust implicitly.

From then on, Petra lent her services to various humanitarian groups in an effort to provide protection and medical care on missions around the globe. With expertise in frontline trauma and medical care, hostage rescue, asset protection, medical intelligence analysis, chemical warfare, and the training and advising of foreign military units, Petra proved to be an elite operative capable of remaining calm in even the most dire scenarios. She’s been awarded the Military William Order, the Bronze Lion, the Bronze Cross, and the Cross of Merit for both covert and overt operations, establishing herself as a minor legend within the elite commando corps.

However, a little over a year after the unsanctioned operation in the Alps, Petra was captured and imprisoned by Ultranationalist forces. She was regularly tortured during her captivity, often by Vladimir Makarov, whom she now sarcastically describes as "a lovely man."

Sometime in mid-2017, Petra was yet-again assigned to a unit led by Price, tasked with infiltrating and securing an Al-Qatala base located in Kastovia. Another member of the unit was Nightfall, serving as the team's scout sniper. During the mission, while providing overwatch, Nightfall's radio was suddenly cut off. When the rest of the team finally reached his location to investigate, several IEDs planted in the area went off and forced the group to retreat. Petra attempted a rescue, but was prevented from doing so by Price, as it was too dangerous. Demolition teams cleared the area the following day. Once it was safe to extract Nightfall, however, the recovery team found nothing.

With her brother declared dead in absentia, Petra chose to abandon the special forces. She went back to school and earned an MSc in Biochemistry at the University of Copenhagen, refusing to contact any of her former allies so as to avoid being dragged back into the military.

In April 2019, Petra was tracked down in Denmark by Price, who informed her of Vladimir Makarov's plans in Verdansk and urged her to join the SAS team being sent to stop him. After thorough convincing, she agreed to come back for one more mission, seeking revenge against the man that tortured her years ago.

Petra was later handpicked for the task force Price established alongside CIA Station Chief Kate Laswell following the death of General Roman Barkov in November 2019. She was once again sought out by Price – and Nikolai, who was the "final nail in the coffin," according to Price – and convinced to join the team as a commanding officer.

About a month later, Laswell pinpointed the location of a prison in Georgia believed to be used by Al-Qatala to hold POWs. Reconnaissance of the prison confirmed this and the identity of several of the prisoners; Nightfall was identified as one of the POWs. Petra, leading an elite KCT unit, raided the location shortly thereafter, securing the captives, Nightfall, and intel about Al-Qatala's plans.

Between the invasion of Verdansk, Las Almas, and a burgeoning war with Konni group... Petra has fully committed herself to Task Force 141, willing to save the world or die trying.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod original character #call of duty oc #cod oc #cod ocs #mw2 oc #mw3 oc #mylène “petra” scholten de ridder #sylph.writes

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starlightdelrey · 9 months ago

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axe throwing - a.v + h.m

spoilers for heart break high season one and two !!!!!

anthony vaughn x harper mclean

request: hi !! could you do a sweet first date type fic for ant and harper ?? i dont really see a lot of love for them so far but I AM OBSESSED! I was thinking maybe they'd go axe throwing for a first date since harper mentioned she wanted to go. ant is lowkey scared he's going to get a limb cut off then overcompensates w the bravado just bc he can see how much she's enjoying herself. u dont have to do this at all obviously but it was just some thoughts i had popping up

in which two of the hartley kids finally get a moment of peace together (or ant thinks he's gonna lose his arm)

lowercase intended

hbh masterlist + main masterlist

cw: mentions of past trauma, mostly fluff, end of season 2, i basically made up my own timeline to make it work, ive never been to axe throwing so i made some stuff up, not proofread !!!!

---

the hartley high kids were stuck in a sort of limbo - since the school had burn down not even two weeks before the term break, the school board had decided everybody deserved an extended break to help 'unpack their trauma'. almost everyone thought it was a load of bullshit but couldn't fight having almost a month off school.

harper had been struggling, although she'd never admit it to anyone. it was unfair - every time she almost healed from one experience, a brand new one happened. darren had recently been going through a housewife phase, and in one cooking attempt, they'd accidentally set off the fire alarm. it caused the blonde to shut down for almost 24 hours, the experience of being locked in a smoke-filled projection room taking over her thoughts.

ant had accidentally been a lurker for quite a few of these mini events - like witnessing chook stare down harper at the housewarming party. when woodsy had called for harper and amerie during the fire, his whole body had been filled with a sense of dread (although he'd never tell harper how he'd fought to try and get to her).

the two decided to keep everything between them as light as possible, which had led to today's activity being set up.

harper dashed out of her shared home with darren and ca$h (their fake moans and tips for safe sex following her) and started up her borrowed car from robert.

when she drove up to ants place, he was sat outside, waiting already. harper couldn't fight the grin that stretched across her face as he wandered over to the passenger side. anthony had taken the concept of axe throwing and lumberjacks very seriously, and had dressed for the part - a plaid button up tossed, un-buttoned, over a cropped white tank top and a pair of baggy jeans.

he got in and immediately leant forward to kiss the blonde, and she pulled away with a smirk. "what's with the gay lumberjack cosplay?"

"i'm breaking lumberjack stereotypes, harps. be happy for me." but he glanced at her with a lazy grin and she shook her head, trying not to get distracted.

as they drove, ant insisted on being on aux. this meant that when spider called him, the audio was put on speaker.

"heya, spider."

"ant, you'll never-"

"hey spider!" harper piped up chirpily, and spiders whole demeanour over the phone changed.

"fuck off, harper."

"wait until i tell missy what you just said, dickhead. don't think i won't steal your girl." harper grinned as she said it, and ant turned to her quickly.

"hey!"

"you wish, harps."

---

"i actually don't think we need to throw axes," ant stood stiffly, his gloves shoved in his pocket and axe in one hand.

harper, who was in the middle of putting her safety glasses on, paused and stared. "what?"

"i just like- don't feel like losing an arm today. ya' know?" he looked at her hopefully, and harper raised a brow.

"don't worry, baby. i'll protect you."

the nickname flicked a switch in his mind, and immediately, ant was back to his usual antics. "no need, m'lady. i will be protecting you."

glasses on, harper turned to stick her tongue out at him - only to be met with the flash of a camera. "ew, ant. i look proper munted with these on. delete that."

he didn't respond, and to be fair, she didn't really care all that much anyways. the two walked forward with their safety gear fully on, prepared to let out some of their anger.

at first, they mess around a bit, until harper finally gets her axe to actually hit the target. from then on, it's a full-on war - they're making up mini competitions, tallying points, and getting into arguments.

halfway through, harper's got 12,368 points while ant has -12.

"we should totally turn our competition into a drinking game, harps. it would be so fun."

"and dangerous." harper braces herself and launches her axe at the target. "ant, we suck balls right now - imagine what it'd be like if everyone was drunk?"

"oh. ohhhhhhhh! yeah, i didn't even think of that."

"of course you didn't, babe."

ant grabs harper and yanks her closer to him, hugging her. some employee chides them for being dangerous.

"you're so pretty, harper." he's looking down at her, grinning, harpers cheeks are pink.

"you're not so bad yourself, anthony." her hand wraps around the back of his neck and pulls him closer.

---

"i cannot believe that we seriously got kicked out for making out!" harper exclaims in the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

"it was totally worth it." ant's still dazed, and he fumbles plugging his phone in.

it goes silent except for the frank ocean playing in the background, until ants phone buzzes with a notification. on instinct, harper's eyes flick to the screen - and her heart jolts.

his lock screen is a recent picture - one of harper, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. her tongues poking out and her hairs a little wild, but she looks happy.

"ant! is that the picture you just took of me?"

"of course it is. can't get it out of my head, it's seriously driving me crazy." he looks down at the picture, a slight blush on his face.

"you just wait until i get a new picture of you, vaughn."

---

#anthony vaughn #anthony vaughn imagine #ant heartbreak high #ant and harper #harper mclean #harper mclean imagine #harper heartbreak high #harper and anthony #heartbreak high 2022 #heartbreak high imagine #heartbreak high #fluff #heartbreak high fic

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cartoonsinthemorning · 3 months ago

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Hi, I'm the anon that asked you about toudencest. Thank you so much for answering! Seeing you gush so much inspired me to ramble some more myself.

Something that hit me hard is that, dungeon meshi is a story fundamentally about desires. And the biggest difference between the touden siblings is that while laios is very forward with his own desires, falin interiorize her own heavily. That's why she appears so effaced and demure. Falin is a soft spoken girl who put other's people needs over her own against her own benefits. And people like toshiro, and marcille to a lesser extent, very much encourage that side of her. While toshiro connect with her love for bugs, it's no wonder why someone from an highly gender comforming culture see her as an ideal wife. Meanwhile, she hate how marcille dote on her like a child and a sketch from ryoko kui show her wearing large hoodies and baggy jeans to marcille's chagrin. And below, she's seen wearing outfits that marcille approve of (tight tops and skirts) looking deeply uncomfortable.

What I'm getting at is that the image most people have of her doesn't reflect who she really is inside. But with laios, it's different. He's the only one who can get her to be genuinely excited about something. He's the only that can get her to smile for her own sake and not just for other people. The way marcille was dreading to see falin be a gushing mess with laios is crazy. The way he give her that knowing smile when asking her if she wants to taste the living armor is crazy. The way he's the only one to chastize her for putting her life in line for everyone else's benefits is crazy.

In his flashback, we see falin express the desires to travel somewhere without him. It is sad but I also think it's interesting how laios is the only one who acknowledged that falin has her own desires that might contradict with his. In fact, what this flashback prove is that he might be the only one that she's comfortable expressing her true desires to.

Btw, from your marchil art I deduce that you're a Manga reader? My nap gave me an amazing idea but it's very spoiler heavy for the end of the Manga. If I have your permission, I would love to share it with you.

AAAAAAAAAHHHH YES YES YES YES I agree with you completely, thank you for putting that down so eloquently! Absolutely no hate for the other ships, but yeah. All other interactions Falin has, with characters close to her other than Laios, make me various degree of uncomfortable, tbh. In particular, that "gag" of Marcille being so vocally against the look Falin is comfy in, and gushing at the oufit that makes her uncomfortable... ugh. Marcille, I love you, but can you please be a bit less of an overbearing toxic mother figure? fghjkl Sorry if I'm criminally late to reply to your message, dear anon, but I'm all caught up with the manga now, you can send me your idea anytime. I'm super curious about it!

#toudencest #I hope you're not offended anon #I was waiting for the last volume to be published in my country #plus I've been pretty busy #I hope you're still around!

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matty-bear · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter I. The Party [N.S]

Type: sneak peek!

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, mentions of drinking

summary: ????

notes: lil sneak peek of my newest nick series! i don’t have a title idea yet so hopefully i figure one out before tomorrow. speaking of tomorrow, first chapter will be posted then so be on the look out! hope you enjoy this spoiler 🙈💙

WC: 386

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

“You need help over here?” The sudden voice causes Nick to jump and quickly turn around on his heels. He opens his mouth to respond but the sight of the tall male in front of him causes him to panic and freeze in his spot. Nick finds himself eyeing the boy up and down quite a few times, gay panic fully setting in as he fully takes in his appearance.

Dark blue hair, defined cheekbones, two chains around his neck, long, dangly earrings, a few rings littering his long and slim fingers which hold an empty shot glass, a blue and black striped ripped sweater (which was hanging very loosely on his shoulders), black baggy jeans, and docs. Nick could’ve sworn he saw a glimpse of a tattoo on his wrist but he wasn’t quite sure because of the dark lights in the room.

“Hello?” The male calls, tapping Nick’s shoulder with his pointer finger, seeming to snap the boy out of his trance as he looks back up at him.

“Umm.. Hi, sorry.” Nick apologizes, a subtle blush coating his cheeks in an instant. “I have no idea what I’m doing, I apologize. I’m not a drinker so all of this is very confusing to me.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We all start out as beginner drinkers. You need help picking something out?” The blue haired male asks, his long earring touching his shoulder as he tilts his head to the side.

“God please. Nothing strong.”

“I got you, don’t worry.” Nick watches the male in front of him set his glass down next to him to grab another small glass.

“Do you mind pouring me like two?”

“Yeah, of course! Two drinks coming right up.” As the male begins to make the drinks, Nick finds himself staring at him again, the small blush on his cheeks darkening a shade or two as he eyes his side profile. “Here you go, two Gin and Tonic cocktails. This is the simplest of drinks in my opinion so you should be perfectly fine if you down the whole thing.”

“Perfect, thank you so much.” Nick smiles at the male, the smile he returns making him melt before he takes the two drinks.

“Oh, I’m Finn by the way.” Finn greets, picking up his shot glass to pour himself another drink.

“Nick.”

#nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fluff #nick x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris x reader #matt x reader

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scryarchives · 1 year ago

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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟏

zara tlatilpa goes mama bear mode, but jaime figures that it's for the best.

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author’s note: honestly, mama bear zara has my heart <3 disclaimer: i’m not of Hispanic or Aztec descent and used a translator for certain terms, so do correct me if im wrong!

translations: muy bien entonces, criatura terca - alright then, strange creature mijo, ¿a dónde vas? - darling, where are you going? èl se fue a verla de nuevo, ¡le gusta! - he's going to see her again, he likes her! No es nada, nana - it's nothing, nana ¡deberías llevarla a una cita y mostrarle el amuleto de Reyes! - you should take her on a date and show her the Reyes charm! ¿Lo entiendes? - do you understand? y recuerda, compórtate bien - and remember, behave yourself ¡sin travesuras! - no shenanigans! todavía soy demasiado joven para ser abuela - i'm too young to be a grandmother ese es un buen chico - that's a good kid

A thump rang throughout his chest as Jaime did a double take at the message, his face heating up.

“Hey, Khaji, just to make sure, I’m not seeing things, right?” He muttered, pushing the hair out of his squinted eyes, re-reading the message repeatedly.

“Jaime, your vision is excellent. Alejandra has invited you to her place since her pet wants to meet you.”

“Why do you call her Alejandra? I’m pretty sure she’d be okay with you using her nickname,” Jaime shrugged, pushing himself out of bed as he suddenly felt conscious of what he was wearing.

“If her name is Alejandra, I shall address her as so, I have no emotional attachment to her,” Khaji-Da responded plainly, Jaime rolling his eyes.

“Could you at least try? It’s so weird not hearing her being called by her nickname.”

“Not likely.”

“Muy bien entonces, criatura terca,” Jaime muttered under his breath, pocketing his phone as he pushed his room door open, now wearing a baggy set of jeans, his navy blue shirt beneath a light blue and white, short-sleeved flannel.

“Jaime,” Bianca Reyes beamed, looking up from the paper in her hands as she spotted her son emerge from his room, glad to see him going places instead of being cooped up in his little room, despite him only coming out for breakfast this morning.

Noticing her son dressed up to go out, her brow furrowed, placing her pen down for the shortest moment as Jaime hummed back at her, leaning his weight against the back of a nearby chair.

“Mijo, ¿a dónde vas? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?” She tilted her head to look up at her son, Jaime walking closer to her to place a little peck on the top of his mother’s head.

“I won’t be far, Mamá. I’m heading over to Drea’s, she’s invited me over.”

“Él se fue a verla de nuevo, ¡le gusta!” Nana called out from the living room’s couch, Jaime’s eyes rolling lightheartedly.

“No es nada, Nana,” Jaime sighed with a smile, used to the teasing. “She’s just a good friend, I guess.”

“She’s got a point, Cabrón,” Rudy smirked, the front door of the single-storey house thudding closed behind him.

“You have been hanging around her quite a bit. ¡Deberías llevarla a una cita y mostrarle el amuleto de Reyes!”

Hearing that caused Jaime to flush a bright red, Rudy letting out a boisterous laugh at his nephew’s reaction, walking over to the young man and landing a heavy back slap on Jaime, the young Mexican hero wincing slightly.

“Okay, okay,” Bianca sighed with a smile. “Let’s leave him be, go on your little hang out. Dinner’s at six-thirty, no negotiations. ¿Lo entiendes?”

“Sí, Mamá,” He sighed, letting his mother affectionately pat his cheek.

She smiled up at him softly, before her forefinger and thumb pinched Jaime’s cheek tugging gently as her son complained at the discomfort despite being twenty-two.

“Y recuerda, compórtate bien. ¡Sin travesuras! Todavía soy demasiado joven para ser abuela,” She lectured, Jaime’s hand wrapped around hers to try and pull her hand away, the rest of the Mexican family laughing at their antics.

With a final tug, Bianca released her son’s cheek, Jaime sighing as he put on his sneakers, and walked right out of the door with a warm smile, realising that he could never find it in himself to dislike their affectionate teasing.

Sauntering over to his neighbour’s house, he glanced behind him, feeling eyes trained on the back of his head. Turning the slightest, Jaime noticed the way the curtains of his kitchen’s windows shifted ever so slightly, and a chuckle escaped his lips, realising his family’s gaze wouldn’t leave him anytime soon.

Finally, his feet halted, realising that he stood in front of his neighbour’s lawn, and for some reason, he suddenly felt nervous. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, his fingers fiddled with the threads. A new nervous habit, he noted, taking in a final deep breath as he marched on to her front door.

Deep in his mind he could hear Rudy’s slight sigh of disappointment, muttering something along the lines of, “Ay, ay, ay…"

Now face-to-face with the mahogany door of the Tlatilpas, Jaime lifted his fist, knuckles hovering over the dark wood before leaning his head back, mustering up all of his courage to knock on the door.

The knocks echoed throughout the area, and for a brief moment, everything stilled. And then the door jolted open, revealing a woman who towered over him behind a patterned, iron grill gate.

Her short, dyed hair was parted at the right of her scalp, a tattoo visible on her upper right arm – it’s pattern almost resembling one of Drea’s golden arm cuffs of her hero costume.

The red spaghetti top she wore exposed her lean physique and a baggy pair of white shorts wrapped around her hips, but her muscles were still visible as she tilted her head, and Jaime just felt the slightest bit intimidated.

That was until she let out a large smile, hands rushing to unlock the extra form of protection before finally opening it successfully. She tugged at the gate - with an almost unnecessary amount of force, Jaime might add - before opening her arms wide.

“And you must be Jaime Reyes! Milagro’s brother, right?” She asked eagerly, her voice rich and warm. Jaime could suddenly tell which parent Drea got her constant stream of energy from.

“Sí, Mrs Tlatilpa,” He smiled nervously, eyes snapping open as she pulled him into a deep, bear hug.

“Ah, I have so much to thank you and your sister for! My little Spark doesn’t make friends easily, and it’s so good to hear that she trusts you both with her life! It’s so nice seeing her happy again.”

“O-Oh?” Jaime wheezed slightly with a wince before being released from her constrictive grip. “I, uh, I’m honoured, Ma’am.”

“Please, Tiá Zara would do just fine,” She beamed. “I’ll go call Drea, you go make yourself comfortable!”

She scooted slightly, letting Jaime through, and he could hear the thud of iron from behind him as she locked the gate again, but as he glanced around, Jaime looked in awe at the cosy little living room around him.

Pictures of the family of three were present on almost every wall, a few black and white pictures framed up alongside them, but not as meticulously kept, as dust gathered on the glass frame protecting the almost faded image.

The green of the potted plants stood out against the vermilion-painted walls, a comfy-looking beige couch resting against the wall as a plush and fuzzy persian carpet rested underneath the glass and teak-framed coffee-table, the television across it reflecting his image in the darkness. A pile of hard-cover books rested above it, for anyone who was interested to take a peak.

Walking around the room, Jaime took a little peak at everything, though his intuitive eye lingered longer on any image he assumed was Drea’s a little longer than expected. A smile was soon plastered on his face at the sight of an energetic little girl standing on a chair, her wide smile missing two-front teeth as a large cake was placed before her.

Her dark brown strands were barely tamed, giving the young girl a wild look, but the tiny crown that sat on her head and her upright posture made her almost seem regal at a glance.

Quickly, he pulled his phone out, snapping a shot of the image before his phone disappeared into the darkness of his pocket. Once in a while, a few embarrassing photos would be nice as ‘blackmail’.

“I see you found her fifth birthday picture,” Zara grinned, watching Jaime with crossed arms. “Yeah, that one was too cute not to hang up. She still insists I take it down, but we both know that it’s never going to happen.”

Zara then approached the younger male, seating herself on the coach as Jaime turned to look at more of the pictures. He brushed over the faded family photos, almost recognising one of the younger girls as Aunt Anika before moving onto the next one, deciding not to pry.

“Jaime, I’d like a word with you,” Zara began, her warm tone turning strict and reserved. “It’s regarding Drea.”

Instantly, he turned around, a furrow in his brow. He watched as the older woman stood up on her feet, walking closer to the male as her hands heavily landed on his shoulders.

“Now, I know that my daughter has trusted you with information that wasn’t your right to know, but she trusted it with you anyways. And she’s had a tough time finding the people to choose to be her friends, you’re lucky to be one of them,” She spoke, looking Jaime dead in the eye.

“However, though I may like you for keeping silent so far, if a word ever slips past your lips, and it ever puts her at risk? I can’t guarantee that you will be friends for much longer,” The look in her eyes turned almost sad, almost guilty for threatening her daughter’s friendships.

“You must understand, I do this because I love her, and I won’t stand idly aside if anything bad ever happens to her. Do you get me?”

He watched as she practically begged him with her eyes, his throat going dry as he nodded, knowing that if his own family’s safety was compromised, he’d do anything to make sure they’d be safe. And with the look Drea’s mother gave him, he felt the urge to protect Drea with the same amount of care too.

‘I do, Tiá, more than you know,” A determined look rested on his face as Zara let out a smile of relief, her hand patting his shoulders in a proud manner.

“Ese es un buen chico.”

And so she turned around, ready to continue with whatever she was doing before he had arrived, her fingers lightly brushing on the walls before she came to a halt, turning her head to face Jaime one last time before she took her leave.

“Oh, and one last piece of advice, from one hero to another, maybe find a better spot to transform behind the garbage skips. It’s more visible than you think.”

And so she left, Jaime’s jaw slacking before he shook his head, hand darting to scratch the scalp of his head in embarrassment at the advice. Part of him wanted to beg Zara not to tell anyone, to keep his secret to herself, but realising that there was no malice in her tone, just the pure willingness to help the boy, he relaxed.

But only the slightest.

However, a smile broke out on his face once more as he spotted a familiar friend come into view, rushing after a little brown blur of fur.

“Oh, hey, Jaime!”

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver @hoshi4k @mymanjaimereyes @asvterias @tinkerbelle05 @littlekidsteve @allthingsvicf

< comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

#blue beetle #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes x oc #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle jaime reyes #blue beetle movie #blue beetle slight spoilers #jaime reyes #milagro reyes #bianca reyes #alberto reyes #khaji da #oc #ocs #blue beetle oc #sam writes !

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