#but she told me to go see it without her and that she would feel worse if she made me miss it so she was very selfless | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

la-patrona-magdalena · 9 hours ago

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Synopsis:

You always wanted your family to look at you, even just once. At least with a bit of the affection they gave to the portraits of your mother. Too bad that when they finally did, you were looking at the pages of a comic that showed the cruel future.

Inspired by the manhwa: no place for the Fake Princess

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I used a translator. Yandere content, neglect, abandonment, angst (?), allusions to death, original character (not the reader), allusions to torture. I try to keep the gender neutral,but in part there are mostly feminine pronouns. If any warnings are missing here, please let me know.

Disclaimer: This fanfic is for personal reading only. The use of this text for AI model training, data mining, commercial purposes, or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without the explicit consent of the author. Translation or reposting to other platforms is also strictly prohibited without the author's permission

Thank you.

You can read the fanfic in its original language (Spanish) on my AO3

Big thanks to @seleneprince for being the English beta reader

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Masterlist

Chapter Three - Seeing into the void

Studying today was hard. At first, as your teacher began the class, you thought the best thing would be to study, sake advantage of the high‑level education being part of this family can offer you for now, but you were still too overwhelmed by last night and this morning. Halfway through, you thought about going to tell your da-… Bruce, if he could let you skip your classes today.

He probably would have agreed, even though you… even though Bruce doesn’t hug you, pay attention to you, or look at you, he never refused your requests—so long as they weren’t about giving you attention.

Which is equivalent to nothing, because you don’t even speak to him when you need something. Almost every time you needed anything, if not every single time, you went through Alfred.

Sometimes you wondered if Bruce even listened to what Alfred told him, or if he just agreed to get you out of his hair. One of these days you’ll ask for something ridiculous just to test your theory.

Though, with what you now know, his attitude toward you makes sense.

In the end, you decided not to say anything because, first, it would be very odd to suddenly skip classes; you already had Tim worried about you after last night, and you didn’t want to worsen his strange behavior. And second, you thought that once your last class ended, you’d feel more relieved.

But you didn’t.

Somehow—though you have no idea how—you made it through today’s lessons until you reached your knitting workshop.

You stared at the balls of yarn in front of you with no enthusiasm. Yarn is the only thing you know that truly belongs to you in this house; neither your family nor your place in this mansion are yours. You never should’ve been here in the first place.

Your room is empty because you wanted to save space for the gifts you hoped they’d give you…after all, you have like five siblings! You have five… five people who live so close to you… and the rest… and… You don't know how to refer to such a large family where you steal someone's place.

Part of you is relieved those spaces remain vacant, if they’d given you anything, you’d feel it didn’t belong to you.

Instead, there are only your basic things, plus decorations, cushions, and blankets you made yourself from yarn you knitted. Some were ugly, but you still loved them. And now, you love them even more, because they’re the only things truly yours in this empty mansion.

Despite that, you haven't started knitting, you haven't picked up the needles, you've already received instructions from your teacher, but you don't have the spirit to start anything.

—Sweetheart, is something wrong?— she asked, noticing your distant gaze. You felt a slight chill run through you when her voice pulled you from your trance. — No… It’s just me… — You didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Sophia had always been so kind to you, and you wanted to tell her everything. But you’d decided not to tell anyone… and now you didn’t know who to trust. What if she was only nice because of the money Mr. Bruce paid her? — We can end the class now, if you’d like. — Her tone was gentle. She approached, as if to place her hand on your shoulder, but stopped herself and lowered her arm. “Today’s work will be your homework, okay?”

Honestly, you have no energy to continue—even though this was your favorite workshop, the one you’d requested yourself. — I’d really appreciate that… — you managed your best smile.

A few minutes later, the room was empty.

You walked through the hallways, feeling even more distant because of what you’d discovered. You had to set a plan in motion to escape this place, and erase every trace proving you’d ever been a Wayne, before the Joker learned of your existence, if he doesn’t already know and hasn’t used that information against you.

You have five years, counting this one, to plan how to flee a clown with a record for breaking out of a maximum‑security prison, and to wipe your identity from the world’s greatest detective.

You returned to your room, left your unfinished assignments from every class on your desk, and instead of beginning them as you normally would, you went straight to look under your bed for the three comics.

Thank goodness Alfred hadn’t tidied up today; with everything that happened, you’d forgotten to hide your daily pill, You saved yourself that trouble and the trouble of explaining everything.

You sat on the bed holding the two comics. Having them back in your hands and in front of you made your body feel heavy and your breathing quicken, you hadn’t touched these comics since before you discovered Tim’s double life.

You took your small Bluey wool plush and squeezed it, breathing as Tim had taught you to the night before.

You have to calm down. You can't panic every time you see the future on some pages. Your crisis will be worse if you let what you saw there happen.

Your heart steadies as air fills your lungs more normally. The poor blue plush in your hands is a little damaged by the force of your grip, you’re sure your nails could have pierced the fabric.

You’ll fix it later. For now, your priority is to think about what you’ll do with your life in the years you have left to plan.

What would someone as brilliant as Bruce or Tim do in your situation?

This isn’t a case, unless you consider your escape and disappearance one.

Well, the first thing you’d do if you were a vigilante hunting a criminal would be… investigate. Gather information.

Exactly. First, you’d compile every detail from the comics you thought might be useful, and with that, you’d figure out your best options for getting away.

Alfred was slightly surprised.

— Since class began, I’ve noticed her distant. I should check that her health is all right… though perhaps she didn’t sleep well. — all your teachers told him. It wasn’t a big deal, until Mrs. Sophia, your favorite teacher from your favorite workshop, said the same thing as she bade him goodbye, leaving much earlier than usual.

He, more than anyone, knew you were behaving out of the ordinary. He wanted to ask young Tim what happened last night, but Tim had already rushed off to solve the case Bruce assigned him. Although Alfred already knew that your strange behavior had begun long before Tim accompanied you to bed, after all, you’d skipped lunch and taken refuge in your room hours earlier.

Dinner’s aroma began to fill the kitchen. Alfred silently replayed your reaction when Tim led you into the study and how you spent the rest of the day isolated. He granted you the space you needed, though it weighed on him to see you so alone.

He rested a hand on the phone, waiting for the pot to start boiling, intending to call Tim just to ask if anything else had happened… but in that moment he received a message from Tim: reserve a plate for dinner and “I'll be there in a while.”

Alfred smiled softly to himself. At least you wouldn’t be alone with him and Damian. Even if you appreciate your silence, a little company never hurts.

He called young Damian, who’d returned from the academy a while ago, then welcomed Tim back, and finally came for you. Knowing you, You yourself would tell him what was happening to you.

When you opened the door to your room, despite looking clearly tired and somewhat sad, you seemed a little more determined. The smile you gave him when he saw him, though forced, had a hint of sincerity. Although he was somewhat relieved that you seemed better than you had this morning, a part of him knew something wasn't right with you.

—Young lady, has it been your stomach or your spirits that decided to go on strike today?— You shook your head, your signature smile still in place—so different from Bruce’s, yet one he cherished like a child’s.

— I’m sorry, Alfred… it’s just that today…— The sentence was left unfinished, just like your energy after investigating. You didn't want to cause more problems. You had enough with Tim. You didn't want to worry the only one who had the decency to look at you in this family.

You gathered information and jotted it down on the back of your knitting-pattern notebook: the things you noticed at first glance—like the Joker’s plan, the day and how he carried out the kidnapping. The location. Simple details, instead of digging deeper or analyzing everything thoroughly. You noticed that, in part, Mr. Wayne seemed a little worried when Serelith first came into their lives. Perhaps you could worry him as a person rather than a family member. It wasn't the best, but you could understand.

—You don’t need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, however, you do need to eat some real food at least.

Alfred's voice brought you out of your thoughts. You laughed and walked beside Alfred toward the table. You thought it best to give him an excuse for your attitude. Even if Alfred wasn't the type of person to pressure you, that strange tension in the air that had been there since yesterday might disappear.

If you were a night watchman… What lie would you tell? Maybe something that's already happened before?

— The truth is… some kids at the store recognized me from an old photo. — It was a harmless lie, no one had actually recognized you, not even the clerk. But Alfred hadn’t gone into the store with you, so he wouldn’t know the truth.

— Is that so? — he asked, now giving you his full attention. — Yeah… They… They… — you stammered nervously, thinking about how to continue. Which Alfred interpreted as you having trouble saying what happened. — It’s okay — he tried to comfort you, placing his hand on your back, though it had the opposite effect.

— They told me I was my mother’s murderer! — you suddenly blurted out. It was the most logical thing you could come up with. You remembered a few times when some people had blamed you for your mother’s death… Serelith’s mother. It hurt you, but not so much now, although for some reason it's been a while since you heard those hurtful words from others. It's not like you went out much, but still…

Alfred sighed, partly relieved that you had told him what happened on your own. He knew how sad you got whenever someone brought up her death. The first time he had taken you out had been some time after a teacher posted a picture with you, bragging about teaching a Wayne. The image spread quickly, making you recognizable. He still winced at the memory of how you cried that day after a fan of your mother insulted you.

He stopped for a few moments. Aware that you were close enough to the main dining room for both Damian and Tim to have heard your conversation. He just hoped they wouldn’t react the way young Todd did years ago. Although he wouldn't mind if the kid who insulted you was taught a lesson. Alfred looked at you, knowing there was more to the story, something you were hiding—but for now, what you’d told him would be enough.

— Young one, whatever anyone says about you, adult or child, it will never change who you are. — he consoled you, still with his hand on your back. You stayed silent for a few seconds, his words sinking deeper than you expected them to. You reflected for a moment, it was true, what others said didn’t change anything about you—and before Alfred could react, you bolted down the hallway toward your father’s office.

— Give me a second and I’ll go to dinner! — you shouted excitedly, as Alfred watched you with a smile, seeing you return to your usual energy.

Maybe, just maybe, even with everything you saw. The comics, what you know, it might not be who you are, you're not his family, you're not Serelith, you're not capable enough to be another vigilante, but… Maybe, just maybe he cares enough for you, at least he'd keep you in a safe place. He'd look after you like any other normal civilian.

The little bit of hope you had from that short scene in the comics grew stronger thanks to Alfred’s words, even if they said all those things. It wouldn’t change the small but important things Mr. Wayne had done for you.

If he didn’t care, if you didn’t matter, he wouldn’t take care of you, right? He wouldn’t accept everything you say or even pay your tutors, would he? He might look at you even if not as family, just… just as a human…

— Dick, no. We’ve already talked about this. — Bruce, please.

You stop in front of his office, listening to an argument—and you clearly hear your father’s voice. — It’s what’s best for her. — For her or for you? It’s been so long—we even forgot she existed, for God’s sake! If Tim hadn’t called me this afternoon, I wouldn’t think of her at all…

Ouch….was that Dick? Wait, had they forgotten you? Did you matter so little?. You lean against the wall, curiosity and fear curling up inside you as you listen to what they’re arguing about. — He took a risk, he didn’t even know that she… — That she what? What fault does a little girl have? Why does she deserve this treatment? — Because she’s the reason Avery is dead!

Your heart stops cold. You feel your temperature spike… Avery was the name of…of Serelith’s mother, your supposed mother. Were they talking about you? You should have known when he mentioned Tim… You listen more intently, though your vision is blurring.

— But we could try; maybe she turns out different, maybe with enough effort we can change her… — She’ll never change, Dick.

Your legs start to tremble. Are you mishearing them? Maybe not… they aren’t talking about you—just a coincidence… A coincidence that they mention how Avery died on the day you were born, Serelith’s day… Why is your body sweating so much? And why do you feel so nauseous? Is it because you haven’t been eating properly? — If we don’t try… — It’s not safe, it never will be. It’s the best for everyone, and for her. It’s better if we don’t even look at her, if we treat her like she's been dead since the day she was born.

Move. You try to move, but everything… everything you see turns into black spots.

You can’t afford to doubt now. That's what you told yourself, lying down without sheets and with your legs elevated on some pillows, waking up in your room, with Tim and Damian, both looking worried, and giving each other death glares. Meanwhile, in the distance, you heard two voices.

— Vasovagal syncope, fainting from stress. Aggravated by poor nutrition. It’s harmless, but we should call Dr. Leslie, just in case. — Thank God… When I found her lying in the hallway, I thought…

You cover your ears with your hands, your brow furrowed with stress, you don’t want to hear anything more from Dick or anyone… You just… you just want to plan how to leave…

As you try to silence the noise, ignoring it in your head, you think about what you could do with your life. You should study twice as hard, maybe get a scholarship at some university and then leave the city, no, the country, the farther from that crazy clown the better. You’ll open a small craft shop and live like a civilian, free of the Wayne name. When Serelith appears, it would be all you could do to be removed from the family. You had no idea what kind of paperwork you'd have to do; you just knew you couldn't afford to keep falling like this, even with Alfred's words still on your mind.

At least now you’re free of doubts above all else. You’re going to push yourself to fulfill what Mr. Wayne said: not only not to be seen by the Joker, not to be looked at as a Wayne daughter, but not to be seen by anyone. As if you were dead.

Three weeks weren’t enough for me, aaaaaaaaah. On the other hand, changing the update schedule to Saturdays, Eastern South America Time (UTC-5), was a good idea for my rhythm. For now, updates every three weeks will continue.

I think some tags might be wrong... I apologize for that.

With this, we can more or less say that we’re closing the reader’s arc, taking it all in. In the next chapters, there will probably be more time skips and more focus on the other members of the Batfam. I wanted to wrap this up first. I hope it turned out better than I think it did. 😔

Anyway, thank you again for the lovely messages you leave on each chapter. Even if I don’t reply to all of them or take until the next update to respond, please know that I really appreciate them and I read each and every one of you. Have a great da

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vivwritesfics · 2 days ago

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Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Two

All it took was a play date for Daniel Ricciarod to fall in love. His daughter playing with her son while he fell deeper and deeper.

Single Dad Daniel x Single Mum Reader

Chapter One

Olivia Ricciardo had hoped her father would be home in time to take her to daycare. But her grandparents comforted her as they drove her. With that attitude every five year old had, Olivia climbed out of the car and walked into daycare, without talking to anybody.

The first person she spoke to that day was Milo. She was clearly in a bad mood, but he gave it time, waited for her to cheer up. Maybe she was tired; Milo knew he was always grumpy when he was tired.

But Olivia wasn’t getting any happier. So, Milo got up from the floor and went to talk to the teacher.

As she watched him walk away, Olivia looked ready to cry again. Her bestest friend (of a whole week) walked away, leaving her on her own. Olivia shed a single tear, but the other children were watching, so she sucked it up.

But then Milo returned, dinosaur teddy bear in hands. He clutched it tight as he walked back over to Olivia and sat on the floor beside her. "This is Rexy," he said as Olivia hesitantly reached for it. "He's my favourite teddy in the whole wide world but you're sad so you can have him for today, but only for today okay?" He said quickly as Olivia squeezed the plush toy.

"Thank you," she said quietly and squeezed Rexy tighter.

Olivia didn't let go of the bear for the rest of the day. As she and Milo played with toys of chased each other around the yard, she always had Rexy.

That was exactly why Milo brought Rexy to daycare. Because, when he was having a tough day, nothing made him happier than having Rexy there.

At the end of the day Olivia handed Rexy back. Milo packed him into his bag and, together, the children walked out of daycare, heading to where the parents gathered. Olivia had no hopes of her daddy being there, waiting to pick her up and drive her home.

She still scanned the faces of all of the parents, and didn't see her own. "C'mon," said Milo, taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her towards his mummy, who was waiting by the gate.

As he walked over, his mother crouched down, pulling her into her arms. "And who have we got here, munchkin?" She asked him, taking his dinosaur backpack and swinging it over her shoulder.

"Momma, this is Olivia," Milo said.

Immediately Y/N noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hello, Olivia," Y/N said in a kind voice. "Milo has told me all about you," she said, trying to give the girl a reassuring smile.

Olivia levelled her a look. "Did Milo tell you about my famous race car driver daddy?"

"He did," Y/N replied, trying to stifle the small laugh she had at the little girls determination. "Well, is he or you mummy anywhere around here?" Y/N asked as she held Milo's hand in her own.

Crossing her arms, Olivia looked around the car park for her grandparents. Or their car. But it wasn't there. They weren't there. For the millionth time that day, Olivia wanted to cry.

But then she saw the 2006 Toyota Hilux.

And there he was, striding towards her in am AlphaTauri hat and sunglasses. "DADDY!" Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs and went running towards the man. He wasted no time in scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hey, badger," he said, walking her towards where she had come from to thank the parent that was keeping an eye on his little girl.

Daniel walked over to a young woman, who looked as tired as he felt, holding the hand of a little boy. "That's Milo, daddy," she said into his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

But she was walking away. "C'mon Milo," she said and tried to pull the five year old away.

Milo pulled away from his mother. "But Momma! That Olivia’s race car dad!" He insisted.

Trying to hide a sigh, Y/N picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. Milo had been wanting to invite Olivia over for a playdate for the last week, but had insisted his Momma wait until Olivia’s grandparents or dad were back, instead of her mum.

And now that Olivia’s dad was here, Milo was gonna get that playdate.

"Are you Olivia’s dad?" Y/N guessed as she approached.

Wearing his typically charming smile, Daniel held Olivia with one hand and held the other out towards Milo's mother (who couldn't do the same with her son in his arms). "Yeah I'm Olivia’s dad, Daniel."

"I'm Milo's mum," said Y/N as she nodded towards him. "Milo would like to know if Olivia would like to come to our house for a playdate," she offered.

Daniel let his smile falter. He loved that Olivia had made a friend, that somebody wanted to invite her for a playdate, but there was always doubt at the back of his mind. What if they were using her to get to him? It was incredibly sad that he had to think like that, but, with the life he had, he had to think like that.

“Can I, daddy?” Asked Olivia as she grinned. “Pleeeeaaaase!”

Daniel looked back at Milo’s mother. She was pretty, and she looked honest. But you couldn't tell what somebody was all about just from their face. "Do you mind if I come with her?" He asked. Milo might be been Olivia's friend, but his mum was still a stranger, and Daniel just wanted to make sure his badger was safe.

"Of course," said Milo's mother. "Say, this Friday after daycare?" She asked.

It wasn't a race weekend, so Daniel nodded his head. "Great," she said, adjusting Milo in her arms. "I'm Y/N, by the way," she finished.

The two said a quick goodbye, with the kids waving enthusiastically to each other as they went. Even as Milo got into his booster seat in the back of Y/N's Peugeot. Y/N offered Daniel one last smile as she put Milo's bag in the back and climbed into the driver's seat.

Daniel watched as Y/N pulled out of the daycare car park and made his own way out, driving Olivia home. "Are you excited for your playdate with Milo, Badger?" He asked as he looked into the rear view mirror.

Olivia was bouncing in her seat, cheeks red from smiling. "Yeah!" She shouted. But, mostly, Olivia was just happy to have her father home.

***

It was a Wednesday when Y/N met Daniel. The playdate was scheduled for two days time, so she immediately set about cleaning when she walked through the door.

If it was just Olivia coming for the playdate, she wouldn't have been cleaning so obsessively. Still cleaning, just not this obsessively. But, now that Daniel was coming too, she wanted the house to be perfect.

With a house the size of theirs, it didn't take long to clean. She had Milo cleaning up his toys in the living room while she dusted the surfaces downstairs. "But Momma," Milo protested as he picked up a tray of lego. "'Livia and I are just gonna get my toys out again."

"Please, Munchkin," she said as she crouched down to gather up more of his toys. "I want Olivia and her daddy to see how nice our house is." She opened her arms and Milo collapsed into them, quietly muttering an 'okay momma'.

Y/N cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. She cleaned the two rooms that made up the downstairs and the bedrooms upstairs. She put Milo's shoes away in the cupboard and made sure the kitchen was clean, wiped the muddy cat paw prints from the wood of the stairs.

While Milo watched television, she cleaned his room, making sure it was perfect for when Daniel and Olivia came over.

"Momma, Olivias dad is gonna like our house," he said as she straightened up the rug in the living room. "Olivia said he's really nice."

"I'm sure he is, Munchkin. Momma just wants the house to be nice and clean, okay?"

"Okay Momma," Milo answered and went back to watching the television.

Taglist: @freyathehuntress

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gigiii1sblog · 1 day ago

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DORM-ROOM DEVIL 012

Warnings: mature content, fluff, sexual content, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sexual content.

Chapter twelve: I told you I’d break you.

Y/N POV:

It started with something stupid.

It always does, doesn’t it?

I had just finished cleaning the kitchen. My playlist was playing from the speaker in the living room. The lights were dim. The candles I lit smelled like vanilla and cinnamon and comfort.

Chris walked in from practice, tossed his bag down, and collapsed onto the couch without even looking at me.

He didn’t kiss me hello.

Didn’t ask how my day was.

Didn’t notice the stupid effort I put into making our shared dorm feel more like home.

He just groaned into a pillow and muttered, “You forgot to get my Pepsi from the store.”

I blinked.

That’s what broke the dam.

“I didn’t forget,” I said, already feeling my throat tighten. “I was at in class. And tutoring. And trying to get everything done before your royal highness came home and dumped his muddy cleats on the carpet again.”

He sat up, brows furrowing. “Jesus, what the fuck is your problem?”

“You,” I snapped. “You don’t see anything I do unless I’m on my knees or laughing at your jokes.”

His jaw clenched. “Oh, so now you’re keeping score?”

I hated how fast the tears stung.

“I’m not keeping score,” I whispered. “I’m just tired of giving and getting scraps back.”

He stood. His voice went quiet, dangerous. “If you’re so unhappy, why the fuck are you still with me?”

I laughed, bitter. “I ask myself that all the time.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I expected him to yell. To grab his keys. To slam the door.

What I didn’t expect, was for him to walk away.

He didn’t look back.

Just grabbed his hoodie, muttered something like, “I need air,” and disappeared.

And the worst part?

He didn’t come back.

CHRIS’S POV:

I didn’t mean it.

Any of it.

But when she says shit like that, when she looks at me like I’m already halfway out the door, I make it real. I make it worse. I always do.

She doesn’t know what it’s like in my head. Doesn’t see the way I spiral the second she doubts me. All the versions of me I’ve tried to outgrow come rushing back like a wave I can’t stop.

So I go.

Because staying would mean showing her too much.

And I’m so goddamn scared of giving her everything just for her to realize I’m still not enough.

I end up at Nate’s party.

I drink.

I drink more.

I laugh with people I don’t care about. Let a girl sit too close on the couch. Let her laugh at jokes I didn’t even mean to tell.

I’m not trying to hurt Y/N.

I’m just trying not to feel her absence.

Y/N POV:

I didn’t wanna come.

I told myself I wouldn’t be that girl. The one who goes looking. The one who needs proof of what she already fears.

But Bianca had knocked on my door with tequila, lip gloss, and a knowing look.

“You’re not gonna let a boy keep you locked in a dorm crying, right?”

So I dressed in the tightest black dress I owned. Put on mascara I knew would smear if I cried. And I walked into that party like I had something to prove.

Then I saw him.

Christopher Sturniolo.

On the couch.

A girl’s legs draped over his lap.

Her hand on his jaw.

And he was kissing her.

Not like he kissed me, not hungry, not soft.

But it didn’t matter.

Because it still happened.

And my chest caved in.

I stood frozen in the doorway, watching him like he was someone else. Someone who didn’t hold my face like it was breakable. Someone who didn’t whisper, “I love you, even if I don’t know how to say it right.”

Someone who hadn’t made me believe I was more than a secret.

He pulled away slowly.

His eyes met mine.

And that’s when the color drained from his face.

CHRIS POV:

Fuck.

She’s here.

She’s here, and she saw, and I—

I can’t breathe.

I shove the girl off me like she burned me and stumble off the couch.

“Y/N—”

She’s already walking away.

I follow her through the crowded living room, past people laughing, drinking, dancing. None of it matters. Only her.

She shoves the back door open and walks into the cold.

I grab her arm. She jerks away like I hit her.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t— I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t what? Kissing her?” she spits. “You didn’t just let some girl touch you like you’re not the same person who tells me I’m everything to you?”

I stare at her. “You don’t understand—”

“No, Chris. I understand exactly what this is.”

Her voice breaks.

She’s crying and I want to die.

“I gave you everything,” she whispers. “I gave you every piece of me and you still chose someone fucking else.”

“I didn’t choose her!” I yell. “I was drunk and pissed and I didn’t mean it!”

“Then why did you do it?” she sobs. “Why do you always hurt me the second I get too close?”

And I don’t have an answer.

Because she’s right.

I do.

I ruin everything.

I step back.

“I’m sorry,” I say, voice hollow. “That’s all I can give you.”

And then she walks away.

Y/N POV:

The second I slammed the door, my hands started shaking.

I didn’t even lock it. I wanted him to follow me. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to break something, him, maybe. Or me.

My chest felt like it was caving in. Every inhale scraped against my ribs like sandpaper. I paced the dorm room, heart pounding, jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might crack.

Then I heard it.

Bang.

The front door.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you fucking say my name!” I screamed before he could even get the rest out.

He stepped into my room, his face flushed, drunk and wrecked and still so unfairly beautiful. His hoodie hung off one shoulder, eyes bloodshot, lips red.

Red from her.

I grabbed the first thing I could, my empty Stanley and hurled it at him.

He ducked. “what the fuck—”

“Shut up!” I screamed, voice breaking. “Don’t talk. You don’t get to talk to me!”

He held his hands up, defensive but calm, which only made me angrier. “You weren’t answering your phone—”

“Oh, so you decided kissing some random bitch was a better plan?” I laughed, hysterical, disbelieving. “Did she taste like me, Chris? Couldn’t tell through the vodka and regret?”

“Y/N—”

I threw a pillow at him next. Not heavy. But it hit his chest, and he caught it like it meant nothing. “You said it wasn’t like that,” I spat, “You said you loved me.”

He stepped forward. “I do. I do love you.”

“Then what the fuck was that?” I cried, pointing toward the door like the memory of it was still dripping off him. “I saw your hands on her hips. I saw you pull her in!”

“I was drunk—”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t fucking drink!”

The silence cracked between us like thunder. My throat ached from yelling, but I didn’t stop.

“You do this every time,” I whispered hoarsely, brokenly. “You fuck up. I get hurt. And then you come back like I’m supposed to just… what? Heal you?”

His jaw clenched. “You think I don’t hurt too?”

I laughed bitterly, tears sliding down my face. “You hurt and then run. I hurt and stay. I always stay.”

He took another step. I backed up.

He stopped.

“I don’t know how to be good at this,” he said finally, voice shaking. “I don’t know how to be what you need.”

“You don’t even try,” I whispered.

He looked like he might cry. And for once, I didn’t care.

“I stood at that party feeling so fucking small,” I whispered. “Like nothing. Like I was just some girl you sleep with between distractions.”

Chris stepped forward. Slowly. Carefully.

I didn’t stop him.

He was close now. Inches.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

I didn’t.

He cupped my cheek. His hand trembled.

“I fucked up,” he whispered. “But not because I don’t love you. I do. I love you so much it makes me sick. And I still ruin it. I always ruin it.”

Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks.

“I would’ve done anything for you,” I whispered.

“I still want you to.”

I finally looked at him.

And I hated that part of me still did.

CHRIS POV:

The second she walked away at that party, I knew I’d messed up.

No, destroyed it.

But it was like something inside me snapped. She’d looked at me like I wasn’t enough, like she was done. So I did what I always do: I gave her a reason to be.

The girl meant nothing. She didn’t laugh like Y/N, didn’t look at me like I hung the fucking stars.

When I kissed her, all I thought about was how empty it felt. Like biting into a fruit and finding it rotten.

And then Y/N saw.

And everything inside me collapsed.

Now, standing in her room, watching her sob because of me, I felt the weight of every bad thing I’ve ever done pressing on my chest like an anchor.

I loved her.

But I was built to ruin soft things. I was built to turn love into smoke.

And she—

She looked like everything I never deserved.

But I wanted her anyway.

So I stood there, letting her yell, letting her throw things. Letting her cry and scream and break. Because I owed her that. Because she should’ve left a long time ago and I kept giving her reasons to stay just long enough to hurt her worse.

“I’m sorry,” I said, not for the first time.

And maybe not for the last.

Y/N POV:

I didn’t sleep.

Not even a minute.

I laid there for hours with his words echoing in my head like a song I hated but couldn’t turn off.

“I love you. I do. I’m just—broken.”

I’ve heard it all before. Like a script we both memorized.

This time, I didn’t want to stay for the apology. Not for the kisses. Not for the ache in my chest disguised as love.

So just before the sun came up, I started packing.

Not everything, just enough.

A duffel bag. My laptop. A few clothes. Toothbrush. My journal with all the things I wrote about him, good and bad. The polaroid he took of me on the beach when he said I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

I didn’t know why I packed that. Maybe because I needed to remember that for a second, he meant it.

The room was quiet except for the soft thuds of me stuffing my life into a bag. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was tense. Lonely.

I was halfway through zipping the bag when I heard the knock.

Gentle.

Like he didn’t know if he was allowed anymore.

“Y/N?” His voice was raw. Low.

I didn’t answer.

The door creaked open anyway.

He looked like hell, hair messy, eyes bloodshot, the hoodie from last night wrinkled like he’d slept in it on a couch somewhere, or not at all.

He saw the bag first. Then me.

His face cracked.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stepping forward.

“Home.”

His mouth opened. Closed. “Just like that?”

I finally looked at him, straight in the eye. “What do you want me to do, Chris? Stay? Pretend none of it mattered? That kiss? That girl?”

“It didn’t mean anything—”

“And that’s the problem,” I snapped. “It never means anything to you. Nothing ever means anything until it’s already ruined.”

He exhaled hard, fingers raking through his hair. “So you’re just gonna leave?”

“I’m not doing this again,” I said softly, voice trembling. “I’ve spent months pretending this wasn’t killing me. I keep forgiving you. I keep hoping. And I just I can’t anymore. I don’t want to beg you to love me the way I need.”

He moved closer. “Don’t go.”

I shook my head, eyes stinging. “You always ask me to stay. But you never give me a reason.”

Silence.

And then he did something I wasn’t expecting.

He dropped to the floor—on his knees—right in front of me.

“Please,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to do this right. I fuck up everything I touch. But I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

I looked at him, this boy I loved too hard, who kept leaving pieces of himself all over my heart like glass I kept walking on.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I bent down and touched his jaw.

“I believe you,” I whispered. “But believing you doesn’t fix it anymore.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face into my stomach. And for a moment, I held him. Just like I always did.

“I love you Christopher.” I said

But then I pulled away.

I slung the bag over my shoulder.

And I left.

CHRIS POV:

She didn’t slam the door this time.

She just… disappeared.

Quiet. Like a ghost. Like maybe she never existed here in the first place.

I sat there on the floor of her room, staring at the place where she had just been standing, feeling like I’d been ripped out of my own chest.

She was right.

I always asked her to stay, but never gave her something to hold onto.

I loved her. More than anything. But I loved her the way storms love the sea, chaotic, destructive, never quite gentle.

I told myself I was protecting her by keeping a piece of myself hidden. That if I didn’t give her the whole truth, how scared I was, how I never felt good enough, how much I needed her, it would keep her safe.

But it only ever pushed her away.

And now she was gone.

And all I had left was the echo of her goodbye and the scent of her still clinging to my hoodie.

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44@emeraldsturns @sturnslux3 @kalel2005 @sarahsturns @teheabrams @needchrissturniolobad @julessspoetry @sturniszn @slutforchrissturniolo2@alinagrace11 @beardedbernard @matthewswifeyy

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christoper sturniolo #matt sturniolo #fanfic #nate doe #nathan doe #sturniolotriplets #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst with a happy ending #angst

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mic-qw · 1 day ago

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Yandere Femboy x Reader

Warnings: emotional manipulation, bullying, obsessive possessive behavior, emotional dependency, toxic relationships.

Aiden was always perfect.

You knew it from the first day he sat next to you in class, deliberately dropped his pencil case, and said with a bright smile, “Oh, can you grab that for me? I’m so clumsy!”

From that moment on, you were stuck to him like you had no choice. But the truth is, you didn’t want one.

Aiden was addictive.

You never realized when he stopped being just a friend and became a light that followed you everywhere. He’d wake you up with voice messages at 7 a.m.:

“Good morning! Time to wake up! You look tired today… did you dream about me, or did you cry because I wasn’t by your side?”

And even though he said it jokingly, there was always something more. A pause. A “laugh” that didn’t sound amused.

He bought you things you never asked for. He took photos of you without you noticing. He introduced you as “his favorite person” to others—but if you so much as talked to someone else, he’d go silent and serious for hours.

Once, you told him you liked someone. Just as a joke, to see how he’d react. And he smiled. Not a nice smile.

A small, tight-lipped smile with a clenched jaw. You could feel his gaze drilling into you. He slung his arm around your shoulders and said,

“Glad you have some hope. But no one’s ever going to love you like I do, right?”

Then he kissed your cheek, hard. You could still feel the smear of his lipstick afterwards.

After that day, something changed.

Aiden wouldn’t let you walk home alone, even if you lived close by. He always had a reason. That he was just passing by. That he wanted to talk. That you looked sad.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you better than I know myself.”

He’d send you pictures of his meals, his outfits, even his bed.

“I miss when you used to sleep over… you haven’t come by in forever” He’d say it with cute emojis. But it never felt cute.

And when you started talking to that other person—the one you only shared classwork with—Aiden’s gestures became even softer. Sweeter. More perfect.

But the messages didn’t.

One night, you found one that said:

“So that’s what you’re into now? God, how basic. Did you seriously lower yourself like that? I wonder how long he’ll be interested once he realizes it takes you HOURS to reply.”

You didn’t answer. And the next day, that person never looked you in the eyes again.

You didn’t get it at first.

You thought it was a coincidence. That people were just busy. That the weird comments were misunderstandings. That canceled plans were just bad timing.

Until you noticed how people looked at you— With a mix of pity, discomfort… and distance.

Aiden, on the other hand, was shining more than ever. Surrounded by people. Smiling radiantly. Speaking in that sweet, angelic way that made everything sound like poetry.

“Don’t tell her I said anything, okay? I’m just… worried. She’s been acting so strange lately.”

A soft laugh. A touch on someone’s arm. A downcast look, like he was really hurting.

And that was all it took. A sad little smile and a concerned tone. Everyone believed him.

He was so beautiful. So perfect it felt unreal. But without a doubt—he was the best at playing the victim.

And you, without even realizing it, started to lose everything.

One by one, people drifted away. They stopped texting back. They avoided you in the hallways.

But Aiden was always there to comfort you.

“Poor thing… Nobody wants to talk to you anymore? That’s so cruel. But it’s okay, you don’t need them. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

He’d say that while brushing a tear from your cheek with his soft palm, that delicate smile of his making him look like an angel who had just fallen from heaven.

And even if you tried to connect with others, to get away from him… You knew deep down— You would always end up back in your best friend’s arms.

#x reader #yandere #yandere femboy #oc #original character #tw yandere #male yandere #toxic relationship #fanfiction #female reader #yandere oc #yandere boy

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jaegeraether · 3 days ago

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The Runaway - Chapter 3 (Alexia Putellas x original character slow-burn)

Jae's Masterlist

CHAPTER 3

ALEXIA

The next time Alexia saw Delaney was at the Ballon d'Or ceremony in Paris. Alexia was not usually the nervous type, but she did feel anticipation that day leading up to event.

Thus far, the power rankings had Alexia leading the race, with Delaney in the top 5. The reason why she wasn't higher was purely because she'd been playing for lower league clubs and hadn't been as successful trophy-wise with the national team. They were building towards something, though. And Alexia knew if it truly was the best player, then Delaney would be winning the award this year.

Alexia chose a suit to wear. Her hair was slicked back into a neat bun with a nice set of earrings on display. She had to keep her hand on her jacket whenever she moved or bent too far to avoid showing the world her chest, but regardless, she loved the look.

Not as much as she loved Delaney's, though. That was the problem — how easily she felt undone just by seeing her.

The Australian turned up in a suit also, though with the jacket open, and her midriff exposed below her black bra. Seeing her in person after the internet had been frothing over her body was... disarming. She found herself waiting at the end of the photographer line as Delaney smiled for the cameras, one hand in her pocket, posture relaxed — her abs catching the light, impossible not to notice.

She shouldn't have waited. She told herself that. But her feet didn't move until Delaney had finished. It was impossible to take her eyes off her. This woman commanded attention without even wanting it. Delaney moved through the crowd like she didn't even know it parted for her. Like she never noticed eyes following her. The football version of Princess Diana.

Finishing up with the photos, she said her thank yous to the photographers and moved off, straight into Alexia. Her face gave away her surprise immediately, which was replaced with a compassionate smile, excitement dancing in her eyes. She looked at her as if she'd known her for years, and that did something to the Spaniard that she couldn't explain.

"Alexia."

"Danny."

Her smile grew at that. She looked her up and down, as Alexia did the same. The Spaniard's eyes lingered at the hollow of Delaney's throat, where her jacket gaped open. It was too warm in here. Or too something. She forced herself to look away, jaw tight, pulse betraying her. She needed an excuse to tear her gaze away.

"You look amazing, as always." Delaney complimented with a husky voice.

"Muchas gracias." Thank you. "You look better."

"Oh no – this is all my stylist. You're the fashion Queen of us both."

Comparing the two of them against each other excited her for some unknown reason. She smiled. "Good luck tonight."

"Gracias, la Reina." Thank you, Queen. "But we both know you more than deserve your third."

"You deserve it too."

She tilted her head. "Tu ingles ha mejorado." Your English has improved.

That surprised her. Alexia had always been stubborn with the language, believing that the English-speaking world were entitled and always expected people to speak their language. She had to admit though, that it was because of Delaney that she been practicing a little more. The thought that she had done the same was heartwarming.

"So have your Spanish."

"Mmn. Great minds think alike. Just don't go learning any more English, okay?"

Alexia frowned. "I yam bad?"

"No, simplement me encanta tu acento." No, I just love your accent.

Whatever Alexia expected, it wasn't that. Not only was it flirty, but she'd said it slowly as if trying to remember the words as she said them in her adorable Australian accent.

She raised a defiant eyebrow. "How we talk then?"

"I think we communicate very well without words, Alexia." A pause. Alexia didn't respond. She didn't have to. Her breath caught anyway, and she saw Delaney noticing it. The Australian ducked her head almost shyly. "A..and if you don't agree, you could always ask for my number."

Oh, they were most definitely both on the same page. "Would you give me if I are asking you?"

Delaney chewed on her lip as she thought, and Alexia wondered if she even knew she was doing it. What was she thinking about so hard? Alexia knew she didn't have a bad reputation when it came to dating - she was mostly private. And very, very rarely was she as clear with what she wanted as she was with Delaney.

The Australian looked up, catching Alexia's eyes on her mouth. She stopped biting her lip as if Alexia had instructed her to. They shared a moment that could have very well ended with Alexia dragging her somewhere private so she could strip the layers from her body and bury her head i-

Delaney's jaw flexed and she stopped her eyes rolling mid-way, a light blush creeping up over her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she responded. "I'm honestly not sure, Ale."

She wasn't sure about her? Them? Dating a footballer? Being gay? Whatever it was - she seemed to be the one with an apology in her eyes. Alexia opened her mouth to reply and a ten minute countdown was announced.

She gave her a look that said she'd be asking questions later, and Delaney responded by absentmindedly chewing on her lip again. They walked side by side into the theatre, admiring the enormity of it.

They were only a few seats away from each other, but that was already too far. When they arrived, there were several of Alexia's teammates there for her to interact with, and Delaney had Mariona. She was one of the Spanish players who had recently moved over to Arsenal from Barcelona. She was a soft-spoken sweetheart. Everybody loved Mariona.

"Dellie, hi!" Mariona greeted with a hug and typical big grin. They embraced and Alexia then realised she'd missed the opportunity to do the same. Mariona grabbed her into a hug straight after. "Hola la Reina!" Hello, Queen.

"Hola, Mariona. Como estas?" Hello, Mariona. How are you?

"Estoy bien y feliz, Capi. Tu ves bien." I am good and happy, Capi. She pulled back with a smile. "Buena suerte esta noche. Nadie lo merece más." Good luck tonight. No one deserves it more.

They turned to see Delaney interacting with Aitana, Salma and Caroline who were all Alexia's teammates at Barcelona and all expected to be in the top 10. Unsurprisingly, they liked her. Aitana and Salma having met her before during their not-so-friendly "friendly".

"Dellieeeee, is that you?" Said a voice as she slid her arms around the Australian from behind. A pang of jealousy hit her unexpectedly at the sight of another woman's hands sliding around her waist, skin on skin under her jacket. And then a pang of slight annoyance when she realised it was Sam Kerr, Captain of the Matildas, though currently she was still out with her ACL injury rehab.

"Hey Sammy, I thought you weren't coming?!"

"Kristie insisted. Apparently I spend too much time at home."

Kristie, her pregnant fiancé who was also a footballer, though from the US.

"I agree with her. You can be very annoying."

"Fuck off," she laughed. "We can't all be as perfect as you."

Delaney rolled her eyes. "You've met everyone here, right? Everyone, this is Sam. I'm apologising for her in advance."

Sam made her rounds of introducing herself and then the two ducked off to the bar for an early drink. Alexia didn't particularly like the Captain, especially after a tweet she'd made a few years back when Barcelona had lost 4-1 against Lyon in a UWCL final. It was an immature tweet saying "Aaaaand this is competitive.." with an eyes emoji. Alexia was made to reply in the media and did so by brushing it aside professionally.

She wondered if Delaney and Sam were friends because they were similar, or because they were simply both Australian. She knew better, though. Delaney was nothing like Sam. From what she knew of her – there was no world in which Delaney would ever do the same thing. It just wasn't in her.

The two made it back just in time for the ceremony to begin. She couldn't look over. Not because she didn't want to, but because if their eyes met, she wasn't sure what she'd give away. That and the camera was right in front of them. The last thing she needed was more obsessed football fans deep diving into things that weren't their business. And yet the tugging sensation to look at her was there throughout the entire night. The curiosity. The confusion and wonder about what exactly she'd meant when she said she didn't know.

Her daydreaming and wondering was cut short by the presentation of their award. It was the last one of the night, which wasn't the best for the tension. As they started ranking from the top ten, her teammates were ranked one by one. Third, was Sam Kerr. This left Alexia and Delaney.

Alexia hated losing. She'd spent her entire life worshipping Barcelona and taught to win everything. But for some reason, she didn't mind the thought of coming second tonight.

As the card was opened and read out, she finally gave in and turned to Delaney who was already looking at her calmly, as if she knew it was Alexia's name that was on the card. Her heart wasn't racing—she was too still for that. It wasn't nerves, it was awareness. A knowing. Of Delaney so close to her, yet somehow too far away. Of their names echoing in the room. Of the breath Delaney let out, soft and steady, ready to be happy for her. To cheer for her.

"And the Ballon d'Or goes to... Alexia Putellas."

There were no negative emotions in her eyes. No anger. No sadness. Just pure happiness for Alexia. And that... unsettled her.

Alexia stood, clutching the hands of all her teammates in acknowledgement. When she got to Delaney, she stopped thinking and felt herself lean in, half out of instinct, half out of need. Their first hug.

Delaney met her there, arms closing around her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they'd done it a thousand times before. Alexia had never known how much she needed the warmth of her body — her quiet presence — until she had to let it go. It's a shame it needed to be so quick. But her body against her own was not something she'd be forgetting anytime soon.

"No one deserves it more than you, Alexia." She murmured in her ear.

Alexia didn't respond. Her throat had closed. How could someone be so generous, so empathetic, that they supported the person who had just won over them? She squeezed tighter and then pulled away, walking toward the stage. She heard the clapping behind her. The cheers from her teammates.

She'd just won her third Ballon d'Or. And somehow, the only thing she felt was a sadness that Delaney hadn't won.

After the award ceremony came the post-ceremony drinks organised by their hosts. Alexia usually didn't have to make the rounds; they came to her. Unsurprisingly, they all swarmed around Delaney too. Football had come far with women being recognised in the sport, but it was still very much male dominated, and these were usually very confident guys. They were respectful enough around Alexia because of who she was and being openly gay. But they were confident enough to make moves on Delaney who had never stated her sexuality publicly.

Even if she had, men always had this idea that they'd be the magical one to turn a woman straight. Although she saw Delaney in the distance being polite to the vultures of men around her, it still didn't stop that jealously tugging at her so hard that even she was surprised.

Alexia wanted nothing more than to sweep in and drag her away, but Delaney was smiling politely and engaged in multiple conversations. A rare bout of insecurity hit her. Who was she to interrupt? They barely knew each other. She wasn't even sure she'd take her number. But the again, there was so much more to her. So much complexity. So much experience and... pain? behind her eyes. It made her even more attractive to Alexia. Unwillingly, she entered a conversation to stop her thoughts.

She could only manage to distract herself for a few minutes with another player, before she turned back to the group of male footballers that had been surrounding Delaney. To her surprise, she wasn't there. Bathroom?

A few minutes later, she was still gone. Alexia finished her drink and wandered to find her.

She wasn't by the bathrooms. Not at the bar. Not even near the press crowd or the award engraving station. Alexia found herself climbing stairs she didn't even remember noticing earlier – something telling her she should follow it.

Alexia weaved her way up the stairs to the balcony overlooking the stage, and that's exactly where she found her. Her head was bowed against the railing, her body moving as she took a few deep breaths. The urge to touch her was usually something she restrained, but not right now. She needed to feel her. To reassure her.

Alexia came up beside her quietly - her fingers finding the warm curve of Delaney's back. Delaney jumped back, her head whipping up. Seeing it was Alexia, she relaxed, apologising and stepping back towards her. She took Alexia's hand and placed it back where it was, which was both confident and sexy. Alexia rubbed her back lightly. Solid. Real. She didn't mean to linger, but her hand stayed as it stroked, something about it feeling reassuring to the Spaniard.

"Lo siento.." I'm sorry.

"Is okay." Alexia reassured. "You are.. okay?"

"Sí, I just... it was a lot."

"The male men?"

That made her chuckle – transforming from her serious expression. "The mailmen, yes."

"You no like..?"

She bit her lip in thought, and Alexia's eyes were drawn to it again like a moth to a flame. "It's fine. I'm just an introvert. Social functions drain me."

Alexia didn't understand every word, but she understood enough. "Ah, introvertida. Me also." Ah, introvert. Me also.

She relaxed and shifted closer to her. "Tú entiendes..." You understand...

Many people didn't understand what introversion was. You could seem outgoing, but social interactions drained you. 99% of them anyways. There were some which drained a lot less – like spending time with her teammates for example. But at the end of the day – Alexia always loved her alone time.

Delaney just needed a moment or so to catch her breath and recharge her battery. Alexia understood that better than anyone, and didn't want to hinder her from doing that.

"You want me go?"

"No!" She responded quickly before softening, "No. Not unless you want to."

"I need break also..." she admitted.

The two shared a look and then turned their attention to the crowd below them – Alexia's hand still stubbornly rubbing her back – unable to stop.

"Congratulations again, Alexia." She murmured as she stared at the crowd. "I really am happy that you won."

"It should... been you." She found herself responding.

Delaney looked to her in surprise. "No, you deserved it."

"You were better player-"

Delaney covered Alexia's mouth with her hand; her lips pressed against Delaney's palm. Her breath hitched. She didn't move. Didn't dare. Because if she moved, she thought she might lose every last shred of control she had left. Regardless, she felt herself leaning into it.

Delaney blinked, realising how close they now were. Her voice became husky again. "You stop now. It doesn't matter who the so-called "better player" is. It's about leadership. Legacy. Success. You are all of those things. I just bounce from place to place. You earnt this, Alexia."

God, her voice was the type of husky that Alexia could fall asleep to, or alternatively, would be desperate to hear in her ear as she touched her.

"You understand?" Delaney challenged.

Alexia nodded, missing the hand that suddenly dropped away.

"You've just made it known to all the younger players that they can come back from injury and be even better than they were before. They can do it, because la Reina just did it."

Again, she didn't catch all the meaning, but she caught enough to be at a loss for words.

She was right, of course. Instead of telling her that, Alexia moved forward and embraced her – this time with no time restrictions. Delaney's arms came around her, tight and reassuring, her chin finding her shoulder and her head leaning against Alexia's.

"But I wanna it to be you." Alexia admitted.

"I think it's one of the reasons we get on so well, Alexia." She murmured huskily right into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "We both want the best for each other."

They held each other for a bit longer, not even swaying. Just feeling. Just communicating like they did without words.

That is until Delaney's phone broke the silence. She pulled back to answer it.

"Hey Sammy."

She couldn't quite catch the words on the other end of the line.

"Oh... yeah. I'll be down in five, okay?"

She hung up and gave an apologetic look to Alexia, one that also showed her own unhappiness at needing to leave.

"Go time?"

She chuckled. "It's go time for me. Plane to catch."

Alexia pondered and then had a 'fuck it' moment. "I can message you?"

Delaney's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You want my number?"

"Sí, claro." Yes, of course.

You don't scare me, she thought.

Alexia expected more lip biting, more thinking, another question. But there was none of that. With another slight pause as she studied Alexia, she handed over her phone. Alexia typed in her number and hit send. Somehow, that felt like more of an accomplishment than the golden ball.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #barca femeni #fc barcelona #alexia putellas

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winderlylandchime · 2 days ago

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I attended the Queer as Folk 25th reunion on June 12, 2025 in Los Angeles. (Is this what Trump is sending the marines to liberate me from?)

They showed the bombing episode (510) which was chosen by Ron and Dan. It was poignant given this is the anniversary of the Pulse Night Club shooting. It was also timely - every time Debbie mentioned “that asshole in the White House” the audience laughed bitterly. How are we still fighting for our rights all these years later?

The interviewer was… terrible. He had visited set on S1 to write an article for TV Guide and most of his questions focused on that. The questions were very basic and much was information any fan would know. That said, the cast made the best of it and their love and passion for the show was clear.

Ron and Dan talked about how they got involved with the project. They had just lost funding for another project. QAF UK had premiered and the LA Times wrote an article about “the show America will never see” and two networks were interested in an American version. Ron and Dan signed on without having seen it! For some reason I assumed they knew RTD (successful out gay directors in the late 90s… it’s not a large club) but it really sounds like, to this day, they’ve never met. They discussed creating a version of QAF that was less gritty than the UK one and that had more of “American optimism” in it.

They told a story about how they had purchased a bunch of dildos for 104 (Ted’s in a coma and the guys have to hide his sex toys from his mom) (typical tv plot line) and one of them stuck a big dildo that had a suction cup over the fax machine. Well, it fell and the fax machine broke and there had to be a sign over the fax machine that read “no dildos within 50 feet.”

Everyone’s stories involved Peter. They mostly discussed the process of being cast (again, the interviewer was shit) and Peter was seemingly around for everyone’s casting call. He spoke about originally reading for Ted and then asking the casting director if he could read for Emmett. She gave him a choice about which one to take to CowLip and he chose Ted. When CowLip heard him read, they asked if he would also read for Emmett.

Scott talked about really resonating with Ted’s experience in the pilot of being invisible as he greets men walking past at Babylon. He said he had just moved to Los Angeles from Chicago and felt totally invisible among all the beautiful people. He really felt the “happy pride, how’s it going” of it all.

Sharon discussed actively campaigning for the role of Debbie. She arrived on set two weeks after filming had started and Peter taking her to the movies and chatting with her for hours to make sure she felt welcomed. (See? Peter was in everyone’s stories!)

The cast agreed filming in Canada, away from friends and family, was a challenge but it brought them close as a cast. They called it “the pink bubble.”

Michelle was emotional talking about how relieved she was that it was Thea playing opposite her and how she and Thea walked into the first cast meeting holding hands.

Robert shared that he flew out to Canada, prepared to stay to film season 2 but not having been officially cast. He talked about how being on the show gave him the courage to come out himself.

Hal and Robert talked about the change from playing opposite Chris Potter (Dr. David Cameron). As soon as Hal met Robert as Ben he knew this was the man Michael needed and would feel safe with. They discussed the sex meetings they had as a precursor to today’s intimacy coordinators. Robert talked about how important it was that Ben and Michael fuck face-to-face (something that wouldn’t happen with Chris Potter).

Everyone was so kind. They stuck around after to talk to fans. Everyone signed my book and I got to share stories of what their characters (or, with Ron and Dan, the whole show) meant to me. I got a picture with Sharon. Ron and Dan now know that my spouse had Kinney the cat when I met them and Peter knows about Emmett the cat my spouse gave me. So I successfully reinforced lesbian stereotypes, mission accomplished. Peter complimented my Protect the Dolls shirt.

If you have any questions, send me an ask and I’ll happily try to answer. If you don’t want your ask published, let me know and I’ll answer privately.

(Needless to say, Gale wasn’t in attendance and Randy has to protect his new career so he wasn’t there either.)

#queer as folk #queer as folk us #queer as folk 25th anniversary #CowLip #Peter Paige #Scott Lowell #Sharon Gless #Michelle Clunie #Thea Gill #Robert Gant #Hal Sparks #qaf #okay to reblog

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chibimui · 10 hours ago

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My 2cents on the KNH LN5 Epilogue Translation

Alright, here we go. I've written this post 10 different ways and at different periods throughout the year, but I think I just need to post it instead of letting it torment me in my drafts.

Every time I see people use "bad translation" as the reason why Japanese and Western fans have such a different interpretation of the LN5 epilogue I just... don't agree. Even when people try to provide evidence and their own alternative translations to prove that the scene is "sexier" in Japanese, I still don't think their examples are that different or even better than what the official English translation provided.

For me, I feel like English readers are just interpreting the text differently because dubcon just isn't as accepted by English readers than it is for Japanese readers.

(my thoughts continue under the cut if you wanna read my ramblings.)

Does the English translation have mistakes that make it confusing when JinMao kiss? YES. Absolutely! But honestly? It's not like the kisses are described in a particularly sexy way in Japanese. They're just as vague and nondescript. A Japanese reader is used to reading kiss scenes like this though--where you NEVER see the word kiss or are directly told that two people's lips are touching or even when their lips stop touching. You're just supposed to figure out from context. It's all just "breathes being exchanged" and "~something~ pressing against my lips" or "suddenly tasting a hint of cherry" or whatever.

English readers, however, are much more accustomed to direct descriptions and so when encountering kiss scenes described this vaguely I can see why many readers completely missed the kissing. The translation mistakes don't help, but I don't think the mistakes were actually big enough to completely misrepresent the moment.

Also, I feel like what most people actually have issue with in the epilogue is the violence. And the reality is that the violence is translated exactly as it is.

So it always seems a bit disingenuous when I see people say "The translation is bad. The scene is actually sexier in Japanese!" and then specifically only focus on translating the parts where they kiss, because I feel like non-Japanese readers take that and assume that the scene is less violent. But it's not.

Jinshi chokes Maomao. He does so without permission. When he wraps his fingers around her neck he is not doing so after having a carefully negotiated discussion--he does it out of the blue and on impulse. Also let me remind you--this is the image we are given for this scene.

Ya'll - the violence - the UNNEGOTIATED DUBIOUS CONSENT/FORCEFULNESS - IS THE SEXY AND KINKY PART. He chokes her and then kisses her. They argue, then Jinshi pushes Maomao down and kisses her again (cause she's being purposely obtuse with his feelings), and Maomao goes into autopilot and does god-knows-what with her mouth that results in... whatever happening to Jinshi and Maomao slipping away. (the Japanese word Hyuuga-sensei used to describe Jinshi's reaction at the end was a freaking onomatopoeia (ぴくっぴくっ). Seriously, don't go looking at the Japanese text for clarity because you will not find it).

Also for the second kiss, which morphs into the third, Maomao is monologuing the whole time about how to get out of it until her brothel instincts kick in. Would it have been sexier if it was more clear that they had been kissing the whole time? Sure! But even the Japanese text doesn't make this very obvious, which, again, is okay because Japanese readers are used to filling in extra context in a way English readers aren't so it doesn't matter, and b) regardless, Maomao is not enjoying the moment. She might not be having a panic attack, but my girl is not having a good time.

In the Japanese text all of this is presented in typical Japanese fashion with a side dose of Maomao's personal brand of detachment - this means using a lot of vague descriptors that quickly glosses over what is happening with the barest of details. The English didn't leave anything out on that front. It's not like we have entire missing paragraphs describing in detail what their make out was like - what you got in English was basically what you got in Japanese. Which is to say - not much.

Also, please remember this is a light novel. Light novels, in terms of writing level (not necessarily subject matter) are basically equivalent to YA novels in English. The language isn't meant to be super complex and the prose tends to more simplistic for quick easy reading. So honestly, there is no way this scene could ever be genuinely that sexy. The fact that people insist that this chapter is meant to be super hot genuinely confuses me because again, this is a light novel. They couldn't make the chapter genuinely sexy even if they wanted to!

Look. Translating a novel is hard ya'll. In many ways, much harder than other mediums like manga or TV shows where you have visuals to help provide more context. In novel translations all you have is the written word. You have no images to help readers picture what is meant to be portrayed in the original (and in this case, the visual we were given was not exactly a positive one). There is a much larger dilemma of how one can keep the stylized voice of the original author (pure translation) while also making the novel actually read well in English (localizing the text). You never want your translation to sound like it's a translation, and you also don't want to localize so much that you've basically re-written a whole new book from the ground up. And yet, a translator still needs to help an English reader envision the exact same thing a Japanese reader might be envisioning when at baseline, English literary writing and Japanese literary writing are completely different approaches to writing AND the tropes/cultural norms/backgrounds etc. are also wildly different.

How can you do that with a scene like this - where on a baseline level Japanese readers are going to be much more okay with what is happening, and they know the game. They know they're meant to fill in some (hundreds of) missing blanks. Whereas your average English reader (who I'm assuming is Western and disproportionately North American) would set up a scene like this very differently, and be expecting different rules in how to engage. The expectations are entirely different from one language to the next--and yes, this is true even if you understand both languages. I think and approach reading Japanese texts differently than I approach reading English ones because they're fundamentally different ways of writing.

So yes, unfortunately some of the "sexual tension" was lost in translation for the epilogue--I don't disagree with this sentiment. But I personally don't think the reason is "bad translation" as it is folks reading the scene differently because Japanese readers are used to reading scenes like this, are okay with what was presented at face value and are happy to fill in the blanks themselves, whereas English readers aren't. It's like trying to convince a modern day person that seeing someone's ankles is ~scandalous~. A translator can only do so much to bridge a gap that wide.

Overall personally, I give the KnH LN translations as a whole an 80/100. Perfectly passable leaning towards the better side. Not outstanding, but I think the translator captures Hyuuga-sensei's tone pretty well, and a Japanese fan and an English fan could easily talk about this series and come away with the same understanding of the characters, and the overall arching themes/plots of the novel without any issue.

As for this chapter specifically? 75/100. There are mistakes in crucial areas that definitely make the chapter slightly more confusing than it needs to be, but overall, it gets all the important stuff across.

#*mic drop*#I still don't think I got my point across well but I tried my best #also not liking/not agreeing with a translation doesn't make it bad btw #the apothecary diaries #kusuriya no hitorigoto #chibi talks

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militarywifesvt · 8 hours ago

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Love next door (last part)

Pairing : idolneighbour!cheol x neighbour!reader

Genre : fluff

Trope : neighbours to lovers

Warnings : none.

Summary : how could he not find you cute when all you do is pout and cause trouble ?

A/n : I just realised that I might have not made this story like how anon requested . Anon , if you're reading this , I sincerely apologise if you didn't like it or this wasn't how you wanted it .

The next few days felt like hell . You couldn't get a decent amount of sleep and you easily get distracted at work . After what happened with seungcheol , you promised yourself you would make things right . But then , you realized that this promise might be a little hard . The problem is , you don't know how to approach a man , or in other words , you don't know how to approach him especially .

The second seungcheol sees you anywhere , he turns the other way . He even changed his schedule to not see you in the morning . It was hard to even make eye contact , let alone talk to him . So now , you need some advice , right ? And who do you have except from aunt younghee ? Nobody .

" So aunty , if someone you like confessed to you and you were too nervous to form a proper sentence and you ended up saying something that sounded like a rejection . And that someone ran off and is embarrassed to talk to you . What would you do ? Just asking for a friend. "

You asked her , with the most awkward giggle ever , trying not to sound too obvious .

" is this about that celebrity guy on the second floor ? " She looks at you with the corner of her eye , sipping her coffee while smiling cheekily .

You almost choke on your drink . Were you that obvious ? Oh god , what a bad liar .

" What ? Pfft , of course not ! I told you , I'm asking for a friend ."

You manage to answer , avoiding her eyes , trying to be as nonchalant as possible . Aunt younghee puts down her cup of coffee before answering calmly , like she believed you .

" Well , if your friend knows she isn't brave enough to go talk to the boy she likes , then she should just let him go . "

" What ? No ! But I like- I mean she likes him so much ! How could she let him go ? "

You stood from shock , eyebrows frowned like she just told you to jump off a cliff .

" Then go talk to him , you dummy . " She answered , dragging you to sit back down , gently hitting you in the head .

" You were dumb enough to let him walk away like that . Don't let him go without telling him how you feel . Go get your man back before I smack you again . "

You smiled widely before standing up , kissing her on the cheek and running out the door .

" Thank you aunty ! Love you ! " You said in a rush , shutting the door behind you .

You sprinted through the stairs , being as fast as possible . You got into your apartment and got straight to work . You accepted the fact that you can't approach him . But there's nothing a tasty cookie can't fix , right ? So , you baked a fresh batch of cookies , decorated them with bright icing and little smiley faces to deliver them to Mr.Vanish this evening .

After waiting for hours that felt like a decade , the evening arrived . You wore the best outfit in your closet , actually put some effort in doing your hair , not the usual messy bun , and sprayed some perfume .

Everything was ready . So you grabbed the little surprise and walked to seungcheol's apartment . You placed the box of decorated cookies on the floor , knocked and ran away . After a couple of seconds , he opened the door , looked around and saw nothing but the little surprise . He crouched to read the note on top of the box

ATTENTION ‼️‼️ : A GIRL WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO APPROACH HER CRUSH OF 2 MONTHS AFTER SHE ACCIDENTALLY REJECTED HIM WAS SPOTTED AT THE RED BENCH NEAR THE CONVENIENCE STORE . WE KINDLY ASK (BEG) YOU TO GO TALK TO HER BECAUSE SHE HAS NO RIZZ AND CAN ONLY MAKE COOKIES .

To not sound like a liar , you cringed really hard while writing that note ( me too 😭 ) . But if that was the only way to get him back , you will gladly do it without hesitation .

After reading your little message , seungcheol's ears turned red . He smiled so widely while covering his mouth , rereading your note to make sure he isn't dreaming . He sprinted to the convenience store , not even bothering to change his flip-flops . He got there after a five minute run , and saw you . Eyes worried , looking around waiting for the sight of him . As soon as you spotted him , your face lit up and tears started forming in your eyes .

" I thought you wouldn't show up . " You managed to say , smiling through your tears . " Last time , you walked away before letting me continue . Don't do it this time . "

He looked at you with admiration , like he's been waiting for this moment since forever .

" I like you too , dummy " you finally confessed , gently hitting him on the chest .

" I've always liked you . Since you looked at me with those damn eyes for the first time . Since you took care of me like nobody did . I love you , seungcheol . "

You smile at him brightly , the same smile he fell for right when he met you . He opened his arms and wrapped you in the warmest hug .

" Now you won't be able to get rid of me . " He says sarcastically , burying his face in the crook of your neck .

" Wasn't planning on it in the first place . " You answered instantly , hands wrapped around his neck .

" I love you , y/n "

" I love you too , cheol "

And just like that , they were able to fix what they once accidentally broke . So , what are you still doing girl ? Go get your man back with a box of cookies ! Maybe he'll fall for your smile , maybe he already did !

Taglist : @alien0n3arth @cscstrap @syluslittlecrows @cheolliesvt

#svt carat #seventeen #svt fanfic #artists on tumblr #seventeen fluff #choi seungcheol #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #seventeen x you #written by ivy

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magicaldice · 1 day ago

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Synopsis: Y/n goes to a party with her bestfriend without telling her toxic boyfriend. She unexpectedly meets Chris sturniolo & things start to unravel overtime.

⚠︎ : read at your own leisure.

any feedback, likes, comments or shares, are appreciated!

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 part 6

After Chris had stayed the night at my house I felt a feeling that was unfamiliar. I couldn't decipher what exactly what I was feeling but it was close to guilt.

Katie had seen Chris leave the house in the morning. She had gave me a "what the hell" kind of look but never said anything. I didn't want her to make it a big thing, and she didn't.

It's been 4 days since he stayed the night. 4 days of confusing mixed emotions. 4 days of my thoughts weighing heavy, suffocating my heart. 4 days thinking to the point of exhaustion.

Jackson had been over 3 days in a row, which is very unusual. He usually only would come over for sex and leave. Or whenever we did hangout, it was never 3 days in a row.

I shouldn't mind, afterall Jackson was my boyfriend. The thing was, Jackson and I being around each other so much the last 3 days has made things harder. I wasn't able to text or hangout with Chris at all. The main reason being Jackson didn't know I was friends with Chris in the first place.

He would kill me if he knew I was friends with a man, let alone have sleepovers with Chris. I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, but I also wasn't trying to tell Jackson either.

I told myself if Jackson was to be cool with me being friends with another man I would of told him by now. But honestly I don't even think that's the truth anymore.

I had so many thoughts swarming my mind any time I was alone. And 9 times out of 10 they were about Chris.

Chris made me feel something I never felt before. He somehow made it easier for me to be comfortable in my own skin. He had made me feel safe to be myself. And I couldnt stand it.

And what I mean by that is I hate that he has made those things possible for me because now, I wanted to spend every minute I had available with him. And I couldn't now that Jackson and I have hungout with each other 3 days in a row.

Jackson's currently in the shower. He brought me back to his place and said he was going to take a shower before we lay down. Jackson was acting weird these past 3 days. More clingy than usual.

But while he was in the shower I had checked my notifications.

from chris: I miss u. tell your boyfriend to go bother someone else so I can come pick u up

to chris: u know I cant do that. miss u 2.

from chris: yea yea I know. lmk when u can hang

I put my phone on dnd. Jackson walks into the room, towel wrapped around his waist. "Who you texting" he asks. "What? No one" I lied, a little too quickly. It was hard to be present with Jackson when the only thing my mind would let me think about was Chris.

"Come here. Wanna see you underneath me" Jackson said, letting the towel fall from his waist. My stomach turns. Should of knew this was coming.

Chris's POV:

I hated the way she made me feel. She made me feel things I hadn't felt in so long. I felt cared for and thinking about it always made my stomach turn.

But at the same time she had made me feel jealous. I know it was never intentional, but the jealousy still existed in my heart. I hated her boyfriend. I hated how he was the one who got to call her "mine".

This wasn't about infatuation, possessiveness or fucking attraction anymore. This was deeper than that now. And I hated the way it made me feel so indecisive. Every bone in my body told me to let her be, just let her go and move on with my life.

Every inch of my body wanted me to run away again, run from my feelings, run from her. But I wouldn't let myself. I couldn't.

It's been 4 days since I spent the night at her house. 4 days since getting to spend time with her. 4 days since having an actual conversation. 4 days since I held her as she fell asleep in my arms.

She's been with Jackson for the last 3 days and I hated every second of it. How she wasn't able to hangout with me, or even text.

I couldn't keep my mind off her even if I tried. I hated it. I didn't know what to do anymore. How much longer I could keep it a secret. How much longer I could pretend like I didn't have feelings for her.

A part of me wanted to tell her. A part of me thought she could possibly already know. I felt like every time we hungout I got worse at hiding how I actually felt.

The sleepovers. The eyes that lingered too long. The most obvious excuses just to have some sort of physical contact. The compliments. It was getting more intense and harder for me to hide it.

Y/n has a boyfriend. And I know she wouldn't cheat but deep down I hoped she would. And as bad as that sounds I didn't give a fuck. I wanted her, I needed her.

Y/n's POV:

I'm finally at my house after spending the last 3 days with Jackson. I felt like I could breathe again. I sit on my bed debating if I should text Chris or not. I wanted to but at the same time maybe I shouldn't.

To be completely truthful, I'm almost scared to hangout with Chris now. After the constant thinking of him, constant confusing feelings I've felt over the last couple days.

I feel like I've been so caught up with Chris recently that I have been so distant with Jackson. Despite being with Jackson for the last 3 days I wasn't able to actually focus on him.

I felt disconnected from Jackson and that put fear in my heart. Jackson has been my boyfriend for a year, losing him sounds awful.

And yeah Jackson isn't perfect but he's been there ya know. He's shown me love in his own way.

After spending some time thinking I decided to facetime Jackson.

The call had gone terrible. He didn't answer the first time I called but the second time I called he picked up the phone irritated to say the least.

He had been in the middle of an "important" video game match.

I had went to Katie's room to maybe talk to her about how I feel but she wasn't there. Which isn't a surprise, she's barely ever home anymore.

A couple hours pass

I texted Chris, even though I probably needed to distant myself from him. And he had answered right away.

He came and picked me up and as soon as I got around him, I felt like a living person again.

We got to his house and Madi and Matt were sitting in the living room. We had all hungout together for awhile before Madi and Matt went to their bedroom.

Chris had grabbed my hand and led me to his bedroom, like it was a routine we had subconsciously made. We sat on the bed talking for awhile.

"I don't know, Jackson being extra clingy for 3 days straight is just surprising. It felt weird" I said to Chris, who was rolling a blunt next to me. "Why did it feel weird?" Chris asked, his eyes focused on blunt. "I don't know. I guess he just never wants to hangout multiple days in a row" I responded.

"I hate your boyfriend" Chris blurts out, his eyes still focused on rolling the blunt. I don't respond.

He lit the blunt and I watched as he inhaled the smoke. We passed the blunt back and forth, letting the thc mellow us out.

"You look good" Chris says out of the blue, his eyes now glossed over. I smiled before hitting the blunt.

After we finish the blunt we both sprawled out on his bed, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

"I missed you" he said. "I missed you too" I respond. "You should just live here" he said as if that was something totally casual to say. "Chris" I look over at him. "I know I just hate when your not with me" he says, his eyes still staring at the ceiling above us.

My stomach twisted at his words. I let out a deep breath. It's gotta be the weed that's making him talk like this I tell myself.

"We should order food" I say trying to subtly change the subject. Chris sits up on the bed and looks at me. I sit up off the bed and face him.

Without saying anything Chris grabs onto my body, placing me on top of his lap. I'm taken back by his actions, now straddled on his lap. "Chris" I said quietly, staring into his eyes with perplexity. "Yeah?" he says.

I want to speak, I want to ask why he just placed me on his lap. I want to tell him that having me on his lap isn't a good idea. I wanted to tell him that Jackson would kill me if he saw me straddled on him. But all of my thoughts go silent when I feel his hand rub against my lower back.

The physical contact with Chris is too much. It's so overpowering, and my body heats up quickly. "Chris" I said once again, trying to form a coherent thought. "Yeah?' he repeats.

I don't respond, because I don't know how at the moment. "You okay?" he asks. I nod my head. Chris places both his hands on my hips. "You're so beautiful you know that?" he says. My breath is shaky and my heart is racing. keep it together y/n.

His eyes are locked on mine, glossed over and seeping with heavy emotions. "I don't think I should be on you like this" I said quietly. He doesn't respond, his hands just grip onto my hips gently.

Our faces are inches apart and the tension between us is close to overwhelming. "You can get off of me if you want" he said softly. I hated this so much. Because I should want to get off of him. And as much as I should, I don't get off. The feeling of desire taking over my body and thoughts.

Chris is staring at me, in a way that says he wants to touch me in ways he shouldn't. "You shouldn't be looking at me like that" I said quietly. I watch as he smiles innocently, masking the intense desire that lays beneath.

"You can get off of me if you want" he repeats. "I don't want to" I said quickly. He stares into my eyes, like he's searching for something. Analyzing my face as his hands start to run all over my lower body. "I want to make you feel good" he said, barely above a whisper.

My heart is thumping against my chest. "Were friends Chris" I said trying so hard to keep my composure. "Mhm" he hummed. "Let me make you feel good, as your friend yeah?" he purred. His hands stop moving and he stares into my eyes once again.

I knew this was wrong. I knew I was supposed to be a good person and get off of his Chris's lap. I knew I wasn't supposed to be looking at him the way I was. I knew I needed to tell Chris that this was wrong and that I couldn't be this intimate with him.

But no matter how hard I tried convincing myself to get off of his lap I couldn't get myself to. Instead I was in a trance by his touch. The way he had gripped onto my lower body had me melting and I couldn't talk myself out of it.

"Were friends" I repeated, breath shaky. "Friends can kiss sometimes right?" he coaxed before brushing my bottom lip with his thumb. And without thinking I leaned in, and that's when everything I had tried suppressing came back to life.

His lips pressed against mine, our mouths in sync with one another. The feeling of desire, the feeling of need had crashed upon me. The kisses weren't rushed, they were needy but slow.

Every confused feeling I had felt these past few days were no longer confusing .They were very clear in this very moment.

With my lips repeatedly pressing against his, my body had felt on fire. I felt alive, adrenaline pumping through my veins. His hand runs through my hair gently as he lowers his kisses down to my jaw. My heart beats faster than ever as he kisses the sweet spot on my neck.

I was so caught up in the moment that when my phone started ringing it had startled me.

My body freezes and Chris stops kissing my neck. I grab my phone and see Katie's name on the caller ID. I immediately get off Chris's lap and answer.

"Hello" I say into the phone, trying to steady my breath. "Hey where you at?" she asked. I look over at Chris who is refusing to make eye contact with me. "At a friend's house why?" I responded.

"Oh okay was just gonna ask if you were gonna be home tonight" she said. "Yeah. Yeah I'll be there".

After a few more words and exchanging goodbyes I had hung up the phone. I look over at Chris who is staring at the floor. "Im sorry" he said. "I need to leave" I said.

"No don't leave" he said grabbing my arm quickly. "I have a boyfriend Chris. And I love him. I need to go" I said. Chris lets go of my arm and I walk out to the living room, put my shoes on and head out the door.

I wait outside after calling Katie back to come pick me up.

What the fuck did I just do?

taglist:

@overlygoin @riggysworld @mattstromboli @nessaisabelartemas333 @sturniolobananas1 @xoxbunni

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wlwsoccerfics · 6 hours ago

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The Hidden Injury(CaitlinFoordXSisterReader)

Warning: injury

Summary: you pull through an injury during national Camp. Mostly cause it's the Last Game of the Break and cause you enjoy playing for your country with your older sister Caitlin. You played for Arsenal together as well. But it was still Special. Back at Arsenal you can't ignore the pain anymore...

You got hurt last week during a Matildas Game. The tackle was hard and your Leg was hurting quite badly. Yet you still got back up quickly. Which surprised everyone cause the tackle and your fall looked quite nasty. Spoiler alert, it was! But you played it cool. Even though the pain was killing you.

So first thing you did when you were alone in your Hotel room after that game was drown some pain Killers and cry. Cause honestly you never felt pain quite like that.

You managed to hide the pain though and it felt alot better after a few hours. So it slipped your mind at some point.

You made it to the first few days of Training without feeling much pain. It was a little discomfort, nothing more really. Today it was Game day.

"are you excited for the Game against Liverpool?" Your sister asked while you put on your Football cleats for the Last practice before the Game tomorrow. Liverpool was interested in signing you. But Arsenal wanted to keep you and you wanted to stay after playing for the Academy.

"yeah i am. How about you?" You asked Caitlin. Offering her a small smile.

"i am looking forward to kicking their Asses!" Your sister replied and grinned softly.

"that's the Spirit!" You told her. Chuckling softly.

"our Star Girls gonna score some Goals!" Katie stated, referring to you and Alessia.

"well i for sure gonna try!" You told her. Smiling a bit.

"yeah me too! Gonna try my best!" Alessia answered.

The Game started five minutes ago and you passed the ball to Lessi who scored in Minute 2. So you felt really confident that things would go well. Oh Boy you were so very wrong.

It took around 15 more Minutes before Shit went down the Hill for you. You were lightly tackled by a Liverpool Player. You didn't really See who it was. That light tackle was enough to make you Fall and hold your Leg, crying in pain. Not being able to get Up. The Player kept apologizing, which you couldn't really hear and honestly it wasn't her fault. This was on you.

"y/n! Oh my god! We need a medic!" Katie yelled. Your sister kneeled down in front of you.

"It will all be okay, little sis!" Caitlin whispered out. Gently stroking your back. Her big sister mode was in full Swing for sure.

"this Is all my fault!" You sobbed out, sniffling softly.

"No it's not." Kyra stated.

"yes there is. I got hurt during our last Game with the Matildas." You admitted.

"oh my...was this when you claimed how find you were after that hard tackle and jumped back up?" Your Steph asked. You nodded your head softly.

"guilty!" You sobbed out. The medics arrived and Caitlin explained to them what had happened, while Leah was saying soothing words to you.

A few minutes later you were at the medics room and they did a Check up. Saying that you needed an X-ray cause it could possibly be fractured. So when it was half time your sister and Alessia were subbed off and went with you.

You were getting your X-ray while your sister was pacing around in the waiting room. Alessia tried to get her to relax.

"Caitlin, it all will be okay. She is a tough Kid!" Alessia stated. Which was true. You were just 17 years old but very resilient.

"But she is my Baby sister and i hate seeing her in pain!" Your sister said softly and looked at Alessia. Alessia gently pulled her down in the Seat next to her.

"i totally get that. And we all hate seeing her in pain. But she got this!" Lessi replied. And in that very moment a nurse appeared to lead the two into a room where you sat with the doctor.

In the room, Caitlin gently took your hand while Alessia sat next to you to squeeze your other hand gently. You may only be Caitlins sister by blood but got the entire Team of Sisters in the Arsenal girls and it wasn't any different at the Matildas. Something which you liked alot.

"so i talked to your sister already, she has a Leg fracture. So we will put her Leg in a brace. It was small. Now it's a bit bigger cause someone decided to Power through..." He stated and you started biting down on your bottom lip.

"so no surgery?" Caitlin asked. Kissing the top of your head.

"No, but recovery is gonna take up to 3 months!" He explained. You sighed sadly.

"hey it's okay, kiddo! We got you! The entire Team will He there for you." Alessia said.

They all indeed were there for you, every step of the way. Which you very much appreciated. And you were quite thankful for that.

Two and a half months later you were allowed to Play again. But Renée was making sure you wouldn't overdo it and just let you Play for the last 20 minutes of a Game. It was a start in the right direction for you again.

One Thing was for sure. You wouldn't Play down an injury ever again.

#woso request #woso x reader #woso fic #arsenal women x reader #kyra cooney crossxreader #leah williamson x reader #caitlin foord x foord reader #katie mccabe x reader #alessia russo x reader #steph catley x reader

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demigod-shenanigans · 1 day ago

Text

The choiceless hope in grief (chapter six)

Leo wished he could claim it was his Apollo-related anger that had gotten him to finally decide to get a move on. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Calypso had been right—Leo was a coward. As much as Apollo’s absolute gall to waffle to him about how Jason was a hero and wouldn’t want to be brought back when he’d barely known him had pissed Leo off, his breaking point had come a few days before that—during his last Iris Message with Piper. More specifically, it had been Piper asking him to come to New Rome with her for Jason’s birthday. “We could go see the memorial. Maybe after, we could visit some of his favorite spots together,” she’d suggested, almost smiling at the idea. “There was this coffee shop he was always talking about, and the gardens, and-” Leo hadn’t even let her finish. He couldn’t do this. Not just because he couldn’t risk Piper’s life by being near her. Jason had promised to properly show them around one day. The thought of going without him—of visiting the place that had been Jason’s home for most of his life and seeing nothing but the empty space he’d left behind—very nearly killed him. He couldn’t deal with the thought of spending Jason’s birthday without him. Of spending his own birthday, barely a week later, unable to think of anything but the fact that Jason wasn’t around to celebrate it with him. That he was older than Jason now, because Jason hadn’t made it to his own seventeenth birthday. This was the only thing Piper had asked of him since Leo had asked for space. She hadn’t even asked him to come visit for her own birthday. But this—the obvious terror she felt at the thought of spending Jason’s birthday without Leo—had finally been enough to at least make her ask. And because Leo was a coward, he couldn’t even give her that. If he left now, maybe he could get Jason back by his birthday. Maybe, if he could figure out how to prevent that stupid vision, Piper could spend it with both of them. Maybe, if he managed that, she would forgive him one day. Or maybe, an awful, pessimistic part of his brain supplied unhelpfully, he’d fail and die and his last memory of her would be this—her crying and begging him to come with her and then apologizing for pushing him too soon.

Rating: Teen and Up

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

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———

Chapter 6: Leo leaves through the door for once

“You shouldn’t do this,” Nico said for what was probably the third time now—Leo hadn’t actually counted, he’d just adjusted his annoyance levels accordingly.

The image of Nico shimmering in the rainbow, pitch black clothes and pinched expression and all, was honestly kind of hilarious, but Leo didn’t feel much like laughing at the moment.

“Again, I don’t think I asked,” Leo bit out. “I also don’t think I told you what I was planning to do, if I’m even planning to do anything.”

“Right, because there’s a ton of reasons why you’d want to know if Jason is in Elysium.” Nico crossed his arms. “Listen, I get it. I really do. But-” He gulped. “When Bianca died, I spent ages trying to get her back. I got manipulated by a ghost trying to use me for revenge. I almost lost myself. That’s not what she would have wanted for me, and this isn’t what Jason would have wanted for you.”

“And did you reach that conclusion before or after you resurrected Hazel?” Leo snapped back. Part of him knew he was being unfair, but he wasn’t sure he cared. He’d spent the past month preparing for this. He didn’t want to fail now because Nico, hypocrite that he was, refused to give him this one crucial piece of information. Why should Jason deserve a second chance any less than Hazel? “Just answer the damn question, di Angelo. Elysium or rebirth?”

Reasonably, Leo probably should have asked this question a lot sooner into his plan, considering said plan hinged entirely on the assumption that Jason was actually in the Underworld.

There were a few reasons why he hadn’t.

1) Leo being Leo, he’d just thrown himself into this project and not even considered that Jason might have chosen rebirth at first, despite the fact that that kind of heroic overachieving was a perfectly Jason thing to do.

2) Once Leo had realized it, he’d longed to keep pretending this would work, not wanting to think about the alternative. He finally had some distant flicker of hope to hang onto. He was terrified what it would mean to have that hope ripped away from him again.

3) He had worried Nico would act like this, and if he planned to snitch, it was better if Leo was prepared to get his plan in motion before anyone could stop him.

Mostly due to point three, Leo was currently glad he’d stuck to this schedule.

“Hazel was stuck in Asphodel. She was lost and terrified and needed to come back. Jason made a choice, Leo,” Nico said quietly, completely ignoring what Leo had said. “We should respect that.”

“No. Screw that. It was a stupid choice, and I’m not respecting it. Why would I?”

Leo hadn’t accepted that the Fates would take him or Jason in return for Gaia’s defeat when they’d first realized what the prophecy meant. Why in the world would he accept it now?

“Because the last thing Jason would want is for you to get yourself killed trying to get him back.” Nico didn't snap at him. He was gentle, looking at Leo with an expression somewhere between sympathy and a kind of sadness that verged on pity. Leo had been pitied a bunch throughout his life, and he could count the times that it had helped him on… exactly zero hands, because pity was never fucking helpful. “I’ve had a few sessions with Dionysus. It’s helping me deal with my PTSD a little better. Maybe you should consider-”

Leo didn’t let him finish.

“I don’t need some kind of godly therapy session,” he hissed, his trembling hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I just want my best friend back.”

“I get that. Trust me, I do. Jason was my friend, too. I miss him every day. Fuck, I’ve thought about getting him back.” Nico kept clenching and unclenching his hands. He looked really upset. “But death doesn’t work like that, and it wouldn’t be fair to Jason.”

Leo knew losing Jason had been painful for other people, too. But he didn’t get why everyone else seemed to agree on the same lackluster advice of well, what can you do but keep going?

Leo had spent years running away from his grief. ‘Don’t stop moving. Never look back.’ had been his motto for so long that he could probably have gotten it printed on a shirt.

But grief had caught him now. And everyone kept telling him to just walk alongside it like it wasn’t trying to strangle him every step of the way.

Leo had never been strong or foolish enough to take that advice.

“I don’t care about whether or not it’s fair to him. None of this is fair. Jason can get a vote when he’s no longer dead.”

“You know Elysium is paradise, right?” Nico tried, obviously desperate to make Leo see even a little bit of reason. “I promise you he’s happy.”

Unfortunately for Nico, inconvenient things like reason and rational thought had gone out the window way back when Leo had first decided he was doing this.

“I get it, okay?” Leo said, lifting his hands placatingly. He tried not to smile about the fact that Nico had just given away the answer he needed, and that meant he was absolutely following through with his plan. “No necromancy. No joining forces with manipulative, vengeful ghosts. I won’t. I promise.”

“You won’t do anything stupid?” Nico sounded sceptical.

Leo knew why. He’d changed his tune too fast. If he wanted to avoid Nico raising alarm bells on all of his friends, he had to give him more than that.

“You know I can’t promise that. Most of the things that pop into my mind are stupid. I’m an inventor. Kind of comes with the territory.” Leo smiled at Nico, allowing a little of his pain to bleed through. He had a lot of practice with lying. It was always easier to make people believe you if at least some of the lies were grounded in truth. “But breaking into the Underworld would be a whole different level of stupid, especially considering I probably already pissed off Thanatos with my little Physician’s Cure-stunt.” He wrung his hands. “I just really miss Jason. Not to sound incredibly lame, but I wish I could hug him again.”

“Yeah. I know.” Nico sounded pained. “Listen, I’m not great at this, but if you need to talk to someone-”

“Fine,” Leo interrupted him. “I’ll come down to camp in a few weeks, to visit Harley and stuff. Maybe we can talk, then. Don’t think I want to see Mr. D, though. I’m a bit sick of the gods right now.”

Nico still didn’t look entirely convinced. Leo thought that was a little unfair. He was totally planning to head to camp. Just, well, after he got Jason back. Nico didn’t need to know that part.

“Listen, I’ve got to go help with lunch, but I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” Leo smiled. It was convenient now that he and Nico weren’t that close. Lying to Piper about this would have been much harder. “Now go bother your boyfriend or something.”

Nico glowered at him through the rainbow, which made for a hilarious image. “I hate you.” But his lips twitched into a smile.

“You and a bunch of other people! Get in line.” Leo grinned into the rainbow one last time, waved, then deactivated his rainbow phone.

…okay, yeah, terrible name. He was still working on that part.

In his defense, he’d been busy with other stuff.

For the past month, he’d been tinkering away at the Valdezinator 2.0. He’d gotten a little more obsessive than a project this small probably warranted, but he needed it to be perfect. If he was going to try this the Orpheus way, the stupid musical instrument couldn’t be the reason he failed.

There had been a part of Leo that wanted to do his usual thing—to just run in blindly and improvise from there. That had been his main Modus Operandi for ages. But he only had one shot at this, and Jason was too important for him to take that kind of risk.

So he’d tinkered until he couldn’t think of any more improvements. He’d done some research on how the Underworld worked, even going to an actual public library, which he hadn’t done since he’d been a runaway kid that needed a warm, dry place to stay for a while. He’d trained with Lit, trying to figure out how to use Katoptris.

He wanted Piper with him, but since he couldn’t have her, this was the next best thing.

Piper respected his request for space. They hadn’t been talking much. He checked in occasionally to make sure she was safe, and he’d sent her a hand-crafted fidget bracelet and a huge box of chocolate cookies for her birthday, which she’d claimed to be happy about, but even Leo knew that was a cheap replacement for having your best friend there to celebrate your birthday with you. He tried not to think about the way they’d celebrated Piper’s birthday the previous year—the cake he’d baked for her and the impromptu picnic he, Jason and Piper had had in Bunker Nine. The Leo from back then hadn’t even realized how lucky he’d been. The end of the world had been looming over them all, sure, but they’d been together, and at the time, everything had felt like it might actually be okay.

But now Jason was gone, and Leo hadn’t seen Piper in weeks, and nothing was even slightly okay.

It felt like a lifetime had passed between now and those first few weeks after Jason had died when you couldn’t have separated Leo and Piper with a crowbar. He missed her like crazy.

The few times they had talked, Piper had seemed happy enough, considering the circumstances. In a way, that was almost worse than if she’d kept unsuccessfully pestering him into spending time with her.

Most of the time, she was apparently just fine without him.

And the one time she wouldn’t be, Leo was-

A sudden knock on the door pulled Leo from his thoughts, reminding him that what he’d told Nico to end the call hadn’t just been an excuse.

“Hermano, if you don’t get a move on now, I’m starting without you,” Reyna called from the other side of the door.

Leo knew from past experience that he did not want to risk that, even before factoring in that annoying Reyna by ditching her to do the cooking on her own wouldn’t be a good idea.

He’d learned in the past few days that Thalia was a pretty decent cook. The same could not be said for Reyna, who was somehow almost worse at it than Jason. What did they teach people at Camp Jupiter?

“Sorry! Coming!” He scrambled to get to the door before Reyna could enter. Back in New Rome, he’d seen with his own two eyes that she kept everything in neatly organized, color-coded folders. She’d probably have a stroke seeing his mess of a room.

“Got absorbed in one of your projects again?” she asked amicably.

It was still a little weird to be talking to Reyna like this.

For a time, Leo had been terrified of her—convinced she’d hold a grudge against him for firing on her home for the rest of eternity. Not that he’d have blamed her. That was a line most people would have drawn.

For some reason, it hadn’t been Reyna’s line in the long run. By the time Leo had flown a giant war machine over New Rome the second time, she’d actively stopped anyone from trying to aim artillery weapons at him—so if nothing else, his heroic sacrifice had at least earned him a bit of leeway on that front.

Reyna was still kind of scary, obviously. Leo didn’t really want to count the amount of deadly weapons she could wield. The fact that she could have killed him in an instant if she wanted to was a purely objective observation. But they’d bonded when he’d helped upgrade New Rome’s defensive system, and a large pot of midnight tamales had done the rest of the job for him. Reyna didn’t take shit from anyone, Leo definitely included, but she had something of a soft spot for him these days.

They were friends now.

Mostly, this was good. He’d even gotten an embarrassing Jason story or two out of her before he’d left New Rome—not that he’d ever gotten to use them to actually tease Jason, but it had felt like a huge victory at the time.

Right now, Reyna’s soft spot for him was mostly a problem, though. Her knowing Leo meant she would pick up on it if he lied to her, and her liking him meant she would care to know why he would lie.

Meaning: he couldn’t lie to her.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, trying to sound casual. “I was in an Iris message. Kind of lost track of time.”

“Ah.” Reyna looked at him curiously. “Who did you call? Piper’s at her art club right now. I don’t think she would skip that.”

Leo stared at her, surprised. He had no idea how Reyna could possibly know that Piper had art club today, or that she wouldn’t skip it because as much as she sucked at art, Piper did generally enjoy it, but it was a little inconvenient right now. He’d definitely hoped she’d just assume he’d been talking to Piper.

Well, now he couldn’t exactly not tell Reyna who he’d actually been talking to. That would just make her suspicious, and speaking from past experience, suspicious Reyna was not someone you wanted to get on your case.

He did briefly consider derailing the conversation to ask why, exactly, she had Piper’s schedule memorized, but even with his experience limited to a few months of Nyssa, Leo still knew older sisters could smell that tactic from miles away.

“Eh, just Nico.” Leo shrugged. “I don’t know. Checking in to see how he’s doing. Asking if seeing his boyfriend’s dad again was awkward.” That wasn’t technically a lie. Leo had done all that, even if it hadn’t been the main reason he’d called Nico.

“Oh. You could have told me. I’d have stopped by to say hello.”

Right. Leo had kind of forgotten Nico and Reyna were friends.

“Sorry. Next time.” He gave her an awkward smile. “Lester dropping by Camp wasn’t half as bad as him showing up here, apparently.”

Apollo had tried to talk to Leo about Jason. It… hadn’t gone over well for Apollo.

“Yeah, I bet. You properly tore into him.” Reyna grinned. “He looked even more flabbergasted than the time I laughed in his face after he tried to ask me out.”

“I still can’t believe he hit on you. Like, read the room, my guy. I know I’m a disaster sometimes, but I’m also sixteen.” Leo shook his head. He had spent a lot of his time as a demigod ignoring his feelings for Jason so hard he’d basically turned hitting on everyone else into a sport, and even he had been sensible enough not to flirt with Reyna. What exactly was Apollo’s excuse? “Imagine still being that clueless at thousands of years old.”

That got a proper snort out of Reyna, which made Leo feel proud. He was still figuring out which jokes worked on her. Spoilers: there weren't many.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the kitchen, though he did notice that the Waystation hadn’t made an effort to shorten their path. He wondered if it was upset with him for planning to leave—Did it know? He figured the answer was probably yes—or if it just glad that he’d been leaving his room a lot more in the past few days and trying to encourage this by making him take walks through its neatly decorated hallways.

Reyna entered, holding the door open for him. “Time to help cook my own farewell lunch, I suppose.”

“Absolutely not!” Leo said immediately, moving to stand protectively in front of the oven. “You can cut the ingredients, maybe. But you’re staying the hell away from the pot, and especially the seasoning. I will not have you explode another salt shaker all over my poor pasta.”

Reyna glared at him. “You will not speak of that particular incident to anyone ever again, Valdez.”

Leo grinned back at her, holding out his hand. “Agree to my cooking terms and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

She redirected her glare at his hand, like she was contemplating whether to chop it off with her dagger rather than take it, but eventually she relented with a sigh.

“Fine.”

When she wasn’t exploding salt shakers all over Leo’s pasta, cooking with Reyna was nice enough.

There was something deeply comical about the way she glared at the tomatoes before she began dicing them, like they’d caused her personal offense and she was deciding how to murder them most efficiently.

Leo watched her for a moment before promptly deciding it wasn’t necessary. Reyna’s general cooking abilities may have been questionable at best, but she had never given him a reason to question her knifing skills.

The Hunters dropping by was something Leo couldn’t have planned for, but it had been extremely convenient. With Calypso at band camp and only him, Georgina and Lit around for Jo and Emmie to pay attention to, sneaking food and equipment for his trip would have been difficult. But with everyone focused on their guests, no one had raised an eyebrow at it, if they’d even noticed at all.

With the amount of people here, they likely wouldn’t have been able to trace it back to him specifically even if they’d tried. Leo knew at least some of the girls had been sneaking into the kitchen at night.

Who knew, maybe one of the side effects of hanging around with the moon goddess was a terminal craving for midnight snacks.

The Hunters were leaving later today. A part of Leo was sad to see them go, especially Reyna and Thalia, but they had a fox to catch before it could flatten any more cities, and he had his own mission to worry about.

Leo was planning to dip a few hours after the Hunters left—sometime tonight, when everyone would be asleep. That way, he could avoid awkward questions and no one would be awake to stop him.

Originally, he hadn’t had a set date in mind for when he’d leave. Honestly, it had taken a bit of outside motivation for him to finally decide to get this show on the road—because, as desperately as Leo wanted to do this, he also knew that he had never encountered a situation he didn’t screw up. And this one he absolutely couldn’t afford to screw up. If he managed to convince the gods to let him try, he’d only have this one shot. If he squandered it, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Leo wished he could claim it was his Apollo-related anger that had gotten him to finally decide to get a move on. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Calypso had been right—Leo was a coward.

As much as Apollo’s absolute gall to waffle to him about how Jason was a hero and wouldn’t want to be brought back when he’d barely known him had pissed Leo off, his breaking point had come a few days before that—during his last Iris Message with Piper.

More specifically, it had been Piper asking him to come to New Rome with her for Jason’s birthday.

“We could go see the memorial. Maybe after, we could visit some of his favorite spots together,” she’d suggested, almost smiling at the idea. “There was this coffee shop he was always talking about, and the gardens, and-”

Leo hadn’t even let her finish. He couldn’t do this. Not just because he couldn’t risk Piper’s life by being near her.

Jason had promised to properly show them around one day. The thought of going without him—of visiting the place that had been Jason’s home for most of his life and seeing nothing but the empty space he’d left behind—very nearly killed him.

He couldn’t deal with the thought of spending Jason’s birthday without him. Of spending his own birthday, barely a week later, unable to think of anything but the fact that Jason wasn’t around to celebrate it with him. That he was older than Jason now, because Jason hadn’t made it to his own seventeenth birthday.

This was the only thing Piper had asked of him since Leo had asked for space. She hadn’t even asked him to come visit for her own birthday. But this—the obvious terror she felt at the thought of spending Jason’s birthday without Leo—had finally been enough to at least make her ask.

And because Leo was a coward, he couldn’t even give her that.

If he left now, maybe he could get Jason back by his birthday. Maybe, if he could figure out how to prevent that stupid vision, Piper could spend it with both of them. Maybe, if he managed that, she would forgive him one day.

Or maybe, an awful, pessimistic part of his brain supplied unhelpfully, he’d fail and die and his last memory of her would be this—her crying and begging him to come with her and then apologizing for pushing him too soon.

~~~~

After the Hunters left, Leo spent the remaining day with Festus. He wished he could have taken him along. He’d considered it. But that wouldn’t have been fair to Festus. There was no way he’d be able to tag along into the Underworld, no matter how much he wanted to, which meant Leo would still have to leave him, just slightly later. Besides, the only place in New York he could have safely dropped off Festus was camp, which would be a really awkward thing to explain, especially given Nico’s suspicions about what he was up to. And as much as Leo liked his siblings, he didn’t want to leave Festus with a bunch of people his poor dragon barely knew, some of which had tried to dismantle him at one point.

It wasn’t like Leo could have taken Festus up to Mount Olympus with him, either. The winds protecting it from that kind of approach aside, landing there on an iron war machine with occasional misfiring problems was probably the wrong strategy if he planned to actually get a word in before getting fried.

No, as much as it pained Leo to leave him, it was best that Festus stayed here. He was content at the Waystation.

Leo took his dragon on one more flight around the area, rambling his plans at his friend as he did. Festus did ask to come, but he seemed to understand when Leo told him why he couldn’t. He did creak about extra Tabasco sauce before he left, though, which was definitely doable.

“You’re so spoiled.”

Festus gently torched him in reply, and Leo laughed, pressing himself to his friend’s giant metal head, letting himself feel all of his inner working one final time to get his own whirring mind to slow down. Something about the utter familiarity of the dragon he’d rebuilt from scratch always felt calming.

Other people tended to be disconcerted seeing him press himself so closely to Festus’ several rows of rotating teeth, but Leo wasn’t worried about it. He trusted Festus not to hurt him more than he did most people.

“I’ll make sure you’ll have all the motor oil and Tabasco sauce you could ever wish for, don’t worry,” he promised, mentally adding that to the list of things he needed to put into the letter he’d write to Jo. He ran his fingers over Festus’ metal snout. “You’ll be well taken care of.”

Regardless of what happens to me, Leo didn’t say.

~~~~ Despite all of Leo’s careful planning, Josephine caught him trying to sneak out of the Waystation through his bedroom window in the middle of the night.

He was already partially on the roof when he heard his door open, then close, Jo’s steps familiar after two months of living with her. He winced.

“Hey!” he said awkwardly, sticking his head back inside the room. “I was just, uh- getting some fresh air.”

Not his most convincing lie, maybe, considering the fact that he was fully dressed—boots and all—at two in the morning and that one of his legs was still halfway out the window.

“You could have used the door, you know,” Jo said, an eyebrow quirked in amusement. “This isn’t a prison. You can come and go whenever you like.”

Despite the late hour, she was dressed in her work clothes, overalls covered in grime. There was still a part of Leo that was confused by the fact that she wasn’t a Hephaestus kid, with how many of his own habits she reflected back at him.

“Yeah, I know, but I figured the air up here was better.” He shrugged.

“I found your letter,” she told him, which meant he didn’t need to bother with making up some elaborate story about stargazing on the roof—she already knew he was lying.

Leo sighed. So this was going to be a longer chat.

He pulled his leg back in through the window and sat down on his bed. Having this conversation with one literal foot out the door—or, well, window—seemed stupid, and he was also starting to feel ridiculous, balancing on one leg like he was in a freeze-frame from a heist movie.

“Of course you did.” It was just his luck that tonight of all nights she’d apparently gone back into the kitchen before turning in for the night. Maybe the Waystation had even actively led her there—which would be the first time in his life Leo would have to say ‘dick move’ to a building. He crossed his arms. “If you’re here to talk me out of doing this, that’s not happening. I have to try to get Jason back.”

Weirdly, Jo didn’t look mad. She didn’t even look surprised.

“Talk a Hephaestus kid out of attempting to fix things? I reckon I’d be more successful talking a wall into becoming a hallway,” she said gently. Considering how the Waystation worked, Leo figured that probably wasn’t even a metaphor.

He didn’t know what to make of the fact that she wasn’t upset with him. He had snuck out of a lot of windows in his long-lasting career as a serial runaway, and while he’d always been careful not to be caught, when he had been, his foster parents generally hadn’t been thrilled about it.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. Jo had shown him time and time again that she wasn’t like his other foster parents. The Waystation wasn’t like the places that had felt like homes for other people where he was just the replacement kid for a couple with empty nest syndrome or the charity case that always turned out to be more than they bargained for.

Jo and Emmie had been taking in demigod kids for years, and had lived a long time before that knowing about gods and monsters. His ADHD and his trauma and the weird shit that happened around Leo weren’t going to be deal breakers for them.

How much of a difference that made was something Leo was still struggling to process.

In another life, maybe this could have been the place where the boy who kept running finally put down roots.

The thought of roots had scared Leo for the longest time—the thought of letting himself grow attached to a place, to other people, only to be uprooted when those people decided they no longer wanted him there, or to watch glued in place as the people he’d stayed for left him behind.

Piper and Jason were the only reason he’d ever relearned to stay anywhere, and now they were both gone from his life—ripped away by the Fates cutting strings and vague threats from a deity.

Leo appreciated the kindness he was shown here. He liked Jo and Emmie and Georgina. But he didn’t have time for roots right now. He was angry and grieving and had a best friend to resurrect, so any thoughts of staying he might have had otherwise were far at the back of his mind, lost somewhere in his vortex of emotions and his weeks of planning.

Calypso had been right about that, too—about the fact that he’d never given this a real shot. About him having one foot out the door from the get-go.

An awful part of him wondered if that was why Jo wasn’t more upset about his plans. It wasn’t like he’d ever let himself properly become a member of this little family. And if he didn’t belong here, well, why would she be upset about him leaving? It just freed up space for someone who’d actually appreciate everything they were offering.

There were plenty of foster kids who would have killed for the kind of home he was squandering here.

“So, what, you don’t even care that I’m leaving to do something dangerous?” Leo asked, trying to ignore the way it stung. It was ridiculous that it did. This was convenient.

Leo had been planning to leave for weeks. Nothing Jo could have said would have stopped him.

So why did he still want her to try?

“Of course I care. But I figured something like this would happen, and I’ve lived this life long enough to know there are things that people can’t be talked out of.” Jo sighed. “I always wish I could talk my kids out of putting themselves in danger, but I’ve both been the kid putting myself in danger and know it’s necessary sometimes, as much as I wish it wasn’t. Emmie and I would have done a lot of dangerous and stupid stuff to get Georgina back. That you’re willing to do the same for someone you care about… well, I’d be a bit of a hypocrite to criticize you.”

That hit Leo harder than her asking him to stay could have.

“Oh.” He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop the feelings building in his chest. Something about how easily she included him in her family when there had been so many times people hadn’t made his heart ache. “How long have you known I was leaving?”

“Since you opened up about what happened to your friend,” she admitted. “Maybe since before then. If you live long enough, you learn to tell the difference between people who aren’t all there because they’re processing something that happened to them, and ones who aren’t all there because they’re moving somewhere else with purpose. But when you told me about Jason, I started to realize what you would do, and why.”

Part of Leo still couldn’t believe he’d actually done that. Part of him felt even more shocked she’d known what he was up to even before Leo himself had even fully realized it.

“And you didn’t try to talk me out of it.”

“No. Like I said, I understand the impulse.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad I caught you before you left. I made something for you.”

Jo pulled an object from a pouch of her belt, no larger than the palm of Leo’s hand. It was a wrist watch, crafted so all the inner workings were visible.

Leo’s mechanic heart jumped for joy. A more vulnerable part of him started to break open as he remembered sitting on the couch with his mom, playing with his first hand-crafted toy as she beamed with pride.

“I- Thank you.” His eyes stung. His voice wouldn’t work right.

“Keeping track of time in the Underworld can be difficult. I thought this might help.” Jo lifted her hand and waited for him to nod before she looped the watch band around his wrist and fastened it gently with calloused fingers. “If you get yourself into a tough spot, touch the little button on the front. It might be single use—Mist Cards tend to be a little moody with demigods who aren’t children of Hecate, especially the multi-purpose ones—but this should shape itself into whatever you want.”

“I… really don’t know what to say.” Leo was losing the fight with his tears, badly. He had a lump in his throat that felt bowling ball-sized. “I don’t have anything for you.”

“The only thing I want in return is for you to remember there’s always going to be a place for you here, if you want it,” she said, still terribly gentle. She didn’t say home, maybe because she knew he wasn’t ready to hear that, though it was still obvious what she meant. “For your friend, too, if he’d like to tag along.”

Leo wiped at his face, desperate, overwhelmed with the fact that she believed in him so much. Overwhelmed with being offered a place to come back to and stay with no strings attached.

This wasn’t bars on his bedroom window so he wouldn’t leave, and it wasn’t Teresa dragging him back from the police station after his second attempt at running away, grasping his arm so tightly that it bruised.

He remembered the way his mom’s bedroom door had always been open when he’d been little. When he’d been maybe six, just starting school, he’d gone through a stupid phase of feeling much too big and mature to go to his mom after a nightmare. She’d smiled at him, nodded and said he was a big kid now, and as a big kid, he could choose if he wanted to come to her or not. But she’d still left the door open, and it had stayed open, no matter how many nights he chose not to enter.

That was what this felt like—a perpetually open door that would remain that way, no matter what.

“I don’t know. Jason’s not really the gardening or tinkering type, plus he’s kind of shit at cooking,” Leo sniffled.

“Even Apollo learned to chop carrots, and he was a tough one. I’m sure Jason will be just fine.”

Leo laughed, immediately feeling lighter. “Oh, you think I’m exaggerating? I’ve tried teaching him before, back at camp. Hopeless case. He got nervous and accidentally fried the microwave.”

That got Jo laughing, too.

“We’ll figure it out.” She gestured towards the window. “You still using your special exit, or are you staying for breakfast? I’m sure a few extra hours of sleep won’t hurt, and the others would like to say goodbye. But I won’t push you. I get it if this is easier.”

And it would have been. It would have been much easier not to be offered a ride to the airport or emotional goodbyes or the pipe cleaner doll Georgina had made for him.

Leo stayed for breakfast, anyway. He left through the front door rather than a window, like a reasonable person that might still learn to leave some bridges unburnt.

———

Chapter Notes:

Oh look! It’s only taken us… six chapters and almost 30k, but we’ve finally found the plot! Lmao

Also, surprise Nico and Reyna cameo! Well, Reyna was maybe slightly less surprising, since I did mention ToA is vaguely canon to this universe and her and Thalia are at the Waystation at the end of the ToN. I love the bits of friendship between Reyna and Leo we got and elected to expand on that a little bit! I love Reyna as a character, so of course I jumped at the opportunity to include her here, however briefly.

Nico is being a bit of a hypocrite here, but he’s specifically being a hypocrite because he gets it and doesn’t want to lose anyone else, so I think that’s okay. The contrast between the start of this chapter and the start of the next one is also very funny to me and one of my favorite bits of the whole fic (you’ll hopefully see what I mean when we get there). Just in general, I hope I wrote him okay. I like Nico a lot, but he’s not a character I write a ton and I was really worried about screwing it up, ngl.

Also, bits of Leo and Jo bonding!! I liked the concept of him finding a home at the Waystation, but I feel like after everything Leo’s been through, and especially after Jason’s death, it’s too soon for him to be ready for anything like that.

On a similar note! I wish I’d been able to Apollo Leo conversation into the fic since it obviously goes down wayyy differently than it did in the book, but I liked starting this chapter on the Nico convo and just couldn’t fit it anywhere. Maybe I’ll do it as a oneshot eventually? The main thing about it that you need to know is that obviously Apollo tried to pull the whole “well Jason is happy where he is now”-card on Leo and it. Uh. Did not go over well. I think Apollo getting a redemption arc is alright, as a general concept. I do not think him (or anyone, honestly, I always find it annoying when stories do this) getting a redemption arc means every character he’s ever wronged has to forgive him and treat him like he’s their buddy now. The fact that everyone (including Piper and Jason’s dream vision ghost) go out of their way to tell him Jason’s death wasn’t his fault is a little ridiculous to me, especially considering grief is messy and would cause at least some people to lash out at him. Apollo can learn to do better and not everyone needs to be chill about the fact that people died along the way to teach him those lessons. Those are facts that can and should coexist. Thanks for coming to my TED-Talk.

Anyway! Those are my rambles for the day, lmfao. Thanks for reading this far! Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it always makes my day and I reread these comments a truly ridiculous amount of time, just fyi. Feedback on this chapter appreciated as always! Would love to know what your favorite part was or if you have any specific thoughts re: what will happen in future chapters :) See you guys next week!

Tag List: @poppitron360 @lilyfrey @lady-silkwing @intenebrisobscurat @manygeese @ann-rex @jvneseries

#Tchig #Valgrace #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #leo x jason #jason x leo #Leo Valdez angst #My writing #pjo fanfic #HoO fanfic

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blackcrowburns · 2 days ago

Text

NO RETURN NIGHT (Rewrite) Caleb x MC. NSFW.

(っ◔◡◔)っ 🍎 Minors DNI. 🍎

⚠️: None Food play, oral (male receiving & female receiving, unprotected sex, light angst. Decided to rework some scenes and add actual smut to the old version . This will be in 3 parts. PART 2 PART 3 Crossposting from AO3, if you prefer to read it in one go.

“The sun doesn't cease to exist, just because you forgot to look up.”

She took him for granted and it hurt. All throughout their childhood she didn't see it. She took and took and took from him, never stopping to see how he needed to be taken care of.

His words stung the hollow of her chest. Imagining him all alone in the Deepspace Tunnel, wearing a mask for the Fleet, when all he wanted was to come home to someone who he could share his life with.

_____ wished she could be up there with him in the sky but she couldn't. She stayed on the earth and everyday she watched her sun disappear for a few hours.

“________, you are….”

“The moon? Lonely as well, orbiting around earth and needs the sun for her light?”

“I'm lonely too.” _____ wanted to say but it was his birthday and showing him affection was far more important than her own feelings.

“The moon has gravity wrapped around her little finger.”

With every passing tick of the clock, time pulled her further and further away from June 13th. When the sun rose tomorrow, everything would be back the way it was.

Back to knowing glances, friendly talks, deliberate flirting and at the end of the day, she'd be alone tending to her heart.Was it truly unrequited if one party refused to give in? If one party felt a sense of glee in knocking the other down a peg?

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she needed to stop lying to herself.

______ had lost him once and could very well lose him again thanks to the Fleet. The warm familiarity, safety and joy he brought her could be gone.

She lived without it like a ghost for what felt like eternity and she couldn't do it again.

“No, it's better to keep things this way, as friends.” she reassured herself.

This new version of Caleb somewhat made her uneasy. Sometimes she felt like she didn't know him even though he could see right through her.

Would she get her heart broken?

Then there was the shame that stuck to her like a second skin. They were friends yes but Caleb and _____ were raised by the same person seen as siblings.

Yet the warmth of his skin lay beneath her fingertips even in memory. They'd spent the evening in each other's fiery embraces, hugging, cuddling among the decorations in the living room.“I want to hold you close.

”She meant that with all of her heart.“When he closes his eyes tonight? Will he see me?”

Footsteps in the living room told her that he wasn't asleep.

Instantly she needed to go out there and be with him.She could still sense the warmth of his breaths on her cheeks. It was not enough.

______ wanted to keep touching him, to descend into the depths of their feelings.

“I want more.” She wanted him.

Grabbing a tin of candy in the colours of his eyes she went into the living room.For now she could pretend this was his gift.

___________

His once grey and lifeless home now glowed warmly with orange with fairy lights, decorations hung across the room, sweets, citrus flavoured drinks and a cake decorated with cranes, clouds and his bloublou that _______ baked sat on the table. Apple scented candles cause a sweet smell to float across the home.

She'd seen him through many stages, a boy, a teenager, a young man who went to college and she adored him through all of it. He'd grown from a chubby faced boy to a handsome adult.

He'd seen her change and loved her through all of it as well. He loved her so hard, he'd been willing to strip her of her freedom to protect her, his most precious person.

Caleb was the star of her teenage cravings, her lonely nights, the tears she shed and the pain she endured.

_____ trailed a finger on Caleb's plush lower lip, hesitating as she stopped. The act was intimate and she knew it, it lingered there but she traced the rest of him as he sighed happily.

Caleb looked at her curiously after, knowing he was going to ask her about it, she opened the tin of candy and slid a yellow one into his mouth, which he happily accepted.

Caleb grimaced slightly.

“Why is it everytime you give me candy it's the sour flavoured one?” Caleb scoffed softly.

“It's your favourite isn't it?” She laughed, leaning in, cupping the face of the man whom she's always seen as an older brother.

Guilt twisted in her stomach, what she was to him, she didn't know, a childhood friend didn't deliberately slide her knee across his thigh, straddle another's lap like this, placing her core close to where she could feel him through his pants.

______ respected her grandmother, family was an important unit that ingrained itself in Linkon's culture. If Josephine's spirit were here right now what would she say, seeing her two “children” fall in love?

Caleb and her weren't blood relatives so why did guilt burn under her bones?_____’s fingers trembled against Caleb's skin but the room wasn't cold.

“It keeps you alert, you said.” gazing into his purple eyes, she saw yearning dancing with flickers of desire maybe even lust.

How many times had her back hit a wall when he cornered her? How many near kisses almost happened in her kitchen, the garden of the old store, his bedroom? Did friends press each other against grocery store aisles or hold each other when sick?

With every curl of his fist, she knew he wanted to cross the line between kind hearted and caring childhood friend to a passionate man, he wanted to take her on that journey no matter how hard she protested.

“Would you like a sweet flavour?” She whispered almost seductively against his hair. No, ______ couldn't stop her body.

Josephine wasn't here to stop her. Her skin craved his touch, her heart craved his smile and her soul craved entangled limbs.

The hair raised on Caleb's neck and she laughed.He breathed heavily when she let his clothed manhood poke her as she slid down to get the tin from the table.

Taking the tin, she settled lightly on his strong lap.

“Come here and take it.”

Locking eyes with her childhood friend, his gaze followed as the sweet was placed between her lips.

“_____ are… are you…sure?” Caleb lowered his eyes, furrowing his brows, yearning and fear. She traced his forehead and he continued.

“I know how you see me.”

Grasping her arm, he held her there, he was testing her, she caught his wrist.

“The things I want to do to you…the sins, ______. If you wake up tomorrow and regret all of this I…. I don't know what I'll do with myself.”

“I'm so sorry Grandma but I want him.” She thought apologetically about the old woman's memory.

Maybe Josephine was an excuse, a lie _______ told herself to navigate the storm of emotions, known as Caleb's love. Their relationship has been fragile as glass, if she lost him again it would make no sense for her to have a beating heart.

Death was one thing, a living person who knew you best, who yearned for desperately, disappearing from your life because of misplaced feelings hit another way.

He spoke. “If I lost you like that _____, it would be the end of me.”

She moved closer, like smoke, quiet and fluid towards him, the forbidden fruit in the form of candy luring him. Like in the myths she was the naked woman, laughing and covering herself in the garden tempting her lover now.

Holding her face he gently for a few moments, looking at her like she'd disappear, taking his heart with him. Caleb then looked at the candy cushioned by her as his own lips brushed against hers, wrapping around the other end of the confectionery.

Then he kissed her.

Gently and desperately.

They tested the waters, the first layer of their old relationship melting away.

His modified arm held her head in place, as their mouths worked on discovering each other in ways they wanted to for years but couldn't.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the candy. She tasted the lemon and apple lingering on his tongue, she wanted to suck it but he evaded her.

“Hnng.”He pulled her in, he deepened their kiss, reminding her who was in control here.

Soft breaths and gasps passed between their locked lips, melting into quiet moans. A string of saliva glinted between them in the warm light when they parted to breathe.Her body felt hollow, something was missing, she felt as if she were drowning at sea in the middle of a storm, the waves pushing her under and around.

“I need you as badly as I need to to see and touch. With everything that happened to me, the explosion, Ever, losing my arm, I've only ever needed you to make the darkness worth it.” Caleb whispered

“______ I need you like a drowning person needs air. Please tell me that you need me the same way.”

Licking his lips, he pulled her in once more for a kiss.

“I need you like that too.”

__________________________________________June 14th was ushered in with soft sighs and clothing rubbing against each other as Caleb and ______ unconsciously grinded against each other on the sofa, lips still glued to each other.

“I knew he loved me. I'd see the adoration and need to rise up in his eyes.” lapping at his lips, their greedy kisses were the only thing they heard.

“But seeing that adoration and eagerness to please, dim when I reminded him that he's just a friend, was indeed satisfying."

Her thoughts malfunctioned when Caleb inclined his head, exploring deeper into her mouth.

“If I'd give in to his love earlier, we'd be making out while grandma was in the next room.” She thought, arousal coursing through her.

“Maybe it would have been fun to see how much we could have gotten away with.”Caleb brushed a lock of hair behind her ears.

“I know you're not thinking about my birthday decorations with that look on your face.”

Tilting her head, she studied his features, his “kind” purple eyes that brimmed with either friendliness or ice, they lit up when he was happy or darkened when he felt down.

His reassuring smile, his brown hair and his nose. Regardless of everything she wanted his warmth.

“You know me so well.”

She pecked his lips. “I was thinking of things……worse things.”

His hands gripped her thighs tightly.“Such as?”

“I wonder how much we could have gotten away with, before Grandma noticed, if I had given into your …..obsession.”

Placing her hands on his chest, _____ murmured into his ears;

“How many times you could have kissed me when she left the room, how many times I could have kissed you…”

Thrill climbed up her spine.

“How many times we could have almost gotten caught?”

Caleb stroked her legs, his fingers dancing eerily close to her inner thighs.

“My coy little childhood friend, has harboured such dark desires for me? I'm shocked. After all you knew I loved you and denied me every chance you got. If you want we can try to summon Gran's ghost and see.”

“Don't say that!" She slapped his arm lightly.

"If I had consented when we went back to visit. Would you have gone further than kissing?”

“Hey!”

The pinch stung. The red mark bloomed on her leg like a flower.

“I want to twist your words on purpose ….to catch you.”

She ran a dainty hand through his hair. Caleb tilted his head, enjoying the sensation of her in his hair.

"And I will hold your words and your sins against me over your head, Caleb.”

“Pip-” His eyes flew open when she bit his Adam's Apple. Apples are the forbidden fruit, Caleb was off limits to her for so long so maybe he was her forbidden fruit.

His shiver turned into a gasp when she pulled his hair.

“.....till the day you die.”

Caleb's head hit the apple plush.He looked up at her like a lost puppy before shaking his head.

“That's fine by me, punish me as you see fit.”

“Not tonight. For your birthday, I want to cross the line. I don't want to be your friend, your little sister or anything of the sort. From now on, I want your love to devour me. Our relationship has been tragic, delayed and uncertain. I want to receive you fully no matter what EVER and the Fleet do. If they ruin you, Caleb, I will ruin myself just so I can settle next to your bones.”

The candles flickered.

Stroking his cheek, _____’s determination and love made clear, Caleb’s eyes widened before going back to normal.

“And I will always carve your name into my flesh and drown in the blood, if it means I see you safe and happy.”

Taking her hands in his like a delicate and coveted secret. _______ felt Caleb's breath before his kisses.

The first, a kiss on her thumb felt safe and inviting, the air shifted with intention.He ran his lips across every finger as if he worshiped her.

One minute they were talking about taboo desires and morbid declarations and the next there was sweetness.

Tara had once declared that you got two men for the price of one with Geminis and he fit that description.

The fabric of her dress was pulled and she fell on top of his chest. He licked around the edges of her mouth and before she could speak, Caleb coaxed her tongue past his lips, sucking it.

He was too hot and too sensual, ______ enjoyed every second of it. His hands slid down her dress to her rear, her hands slid into his hair.

She loved kissing him, if she could hide away from the rest of the world and have him kiss her breathless, she'd take it. Caleb explored her in ways no other man had, his passion, his love, his devotion, it was addicting.

She whimpered needily as he groaned. She'd never get enough of Caleb. She'd give everything to have him like this forever.

“Mmm” she pushed herself deeper onto her childhood friend till his head slid off of the cushion.

The heat between her legs blossomed into an insatiable desire. Chest, waist, hands Caleb groped them all eagerly and she arched into it all.

When she wanted to part to breathe, seconds later Caleb's lips were smashed against her again.

His own erection seemed to grow harder, entangled in each other's limbs, their make out session became so heated, they fell off of the sofa onto the carpet but his hands protected her head from impact.

“Are you alright?”

Pinned beneath him, her hair fanned out around her. Her kiss swollen lips were his work of art.

He trailed his finger across her mouth, admiring what he'd done.

“I'm enjoying this.” She said, eyeing him lovingly.

“How long have you …wanted to do this?”

“Longer than you've known.”

“You pulled me in like your Evol.”

“Gravity isn't responsible for how people fall in love ….and I…” he trailed off pressing their hands to the floor.

“I love you so much it hurts.”

Taking her hand, he put it on his heart. See?” He said sincerely.

“This is how you've drawn me in, without fail. My heart belongs to you, my body is yours and my soul is devoted to you.”

Leaning forward the childhood pair kissed again and again and again on the floor. Satisfied hums left both of them, his mouth worked on her intensely, she felt feverishly heated, she tried to raise her head and push back with kisses of her own but Caleb devoured her as if she'd disappear.

“ This is your punishment for depriving me for years.” his steamy kisses said.

“You'll stay on this floor, powerless and pressed under my body till I say otherwise.”

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