#ever had control over herself wanting to Be not special or stand out. her want and self proclaimed choice to be appart of something else

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Your biggest fan

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, college au

word count: 9.8k

warnings: sex work(kinda), masturbation, sex toys unprotected sex, face fucking, degradation, bondage, spanking, lowkey pain kink, squirting, dirty talk, orgasm control, sexting, reader is called slut and loves it hehe (lmk if i missed some haha)

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this, please reblog if you did, i had fun with the college au🫶🏻 also, my first full seungmin fic🥹💕

check out: Masterlist

Saturday night. In any student's case that would be the perfect time to go out and party, unwind from the whole week, get drunk and maybe score a one night stand.

Not in Seungmin's case though, he has found another genre of ...entertainment. He was never the type to go out to parties, finding alcohol something that just upsets his stomach and seeing people acting even dumber than they usually do only served to make him mad, not relaxed.

His roommate Hyunjin is the exact opposite, practically surviving the whole week just for any party organized nearby, and today was no different.

"Do I look good?"- Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at Seungmin, after trying on the fifth outfit and asking the same thing every single time.

"Why are you asking redundant questions? You got a mirror."- Seungmin rolls his eyes at his roommate who was looming over his frame as he layed on his bed.

"Because like, I need to know if you'd fuck me?"- Hyunjin says nonchalantly and Seungmin makes gagging noises at him as he sits up.

"I'd never fuck you."- he shakes his head and Hyunjin groans.

"Okay but like if you were a girl or into guys, would you?"- he tries again.

"If saying yes gets you off my case, then yes."- Seungmin sighs and it's Hyunjin's turn to roll his eyes with a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

"You're so boring."- Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at Seungmin.

"And you're so childish. Let me be boring in peace."- Seungmin waves him off.

Hyunjin makes snoring noises as he grabs his jacket, barely missing the pillow projectile Seungmin aimed at him.

"Don't bother coming back, peasant!"- Seungmin yells and the door is closed with a thud.

He sighs, sitting in silence for just a few moments, waiting for Hyunjin's long legs to take him away from the dorms.

When he's sure that his roommate is far away, Seungmin gets up to lock the door before making his way back to bed.

He grabs his laptop and opens it up, typing up the familiar page into his search engine, looking for his favorite user, the one he spent so much money on. Money he made working hard during the summer, but who cares when he can spend it on whatever he wants.

Every week he waits for Saturday, his favorite day, when she does all her livestreams. Even though she never showed her face on camera, Seungmin is convinced she is the most beautiful woman to ever grace the planet.

Judging only by her beautiful curves and the way she moves and sounds when she pleases herself only fuel the fantasy of her that blooms inside Seungmin's head.

This weekend she's wearing pretty pastel pink lingerie, delicate and frilly, the tiny see-through fabric leaving nothing to the imagination except her face that Seungmin wishes he could see.

"Oh hello, MongMong22. You're finally here! I was waiting for you before I start!"- Seungmin listens to her seductive voice, imagining her smirk and a wink she'd send to the camera.

She always gives special hello's to him, always fulfills his requests because he's been there almost since day one, a constant source of payment for her.

"I have some new toys I wanna try out today."- she reveals, spreading her legs tentatively, slowly sliding her hand between them as she presses her fingers into her clit, circling it.

Seungmin lets out a breath through his nose, his boxers are already getting tight and she didn't even start with anything.

~ Let us see your tits, please!

She chuckles at the comment someone left, moving her hand away from her panties that now had a wet spot formed on them.

"Okay, when you asked so nicely."- Seungmin can hear the smirk in her voice. She undoes her bra, taking it off slowly and Seungmin palms his growing erection at the sight of her beautiful tits.

"You want me to play with my tits? Imagine it's your hands touching me?"- she cups herself, slowly massaging her breasts as a little moan escapes her lips.

~ Play with your nipples.

Someone comments what Seungmin thinks, and she brings her fingers on her nipples.

"You want me to play with my little nipples? Mm it feels so good."- she whines as she starts pinching them and rolling them between her fingers.

"How long should I play with them? Until they're all tender and swollen, so sensitive for you?"- she moans, pinching them harder.

Seungmin twitches and pulls his boxers down so he can grab his throbbing cock, pre-cum spilling out and coating his length.

"You tell me when to stop, pup."- Seungmin's dick twitches in his hand, he knows she's talking directly to him, with the nickname he chose whenever they direct message.

He slowly starts moving his hand, only on his tip, the stimulation making his gut stir as he watches her torture her nipples while she lets out the prettiest moans.

Seungmin imagines how it would feel to actually be the one to touch her nipples, reduce her to a mess of moans while only playing with her breasts.

"Are you imagining you're touching me? Or perhaps you're imagining your lips around my nipples, sucking on them like a good boy?"- Seungmin lets out a quiet noise as his hand slips down his length, now completely lubed with his pre-cum.

He moves his hand very slowly, trying to make everything last as long as possible, after all it's been a week since he's last seen her.

He stops her only when her nipples are swollen and red, when she's whimpering and begging, rutting her hips against her bed, her wet pussy dragging on the sheets beneath.

~ Touch yourself. Push your fingers inside your pussy.

Seungmin types out, now completely succumbing to the arousal traveling through his body right to his red throbbing cock.

"Of course, MongMong. Tell me how many fingers?"- she sounds sweet, and he can imagine her batting her eyelashes at him.

~ Three.

She whines at his comment, sliding her panties off and spreading her legs wide so everyone can see her pretty pussy, glistening with arousal.

"Three fingers for my pup."- she moans, playing with her clit a little before she slides her fingers on her wet folds. She slowly pushes three of her fingers in, her little pussy struggling to take so much before any preparation.

Seungmin's head is dizzy, thinking about how tight her pussy actually is, how it would feel to sink his cock inside her, open her up only to take him. He tightens his hold on his cock, imagining it's her velvety walls squeezing around him.

The schlick sounds that her pussy makes as she starts fucking her fingers into it together with her sweet whines, make Seungmin move his hand faster.

He cups his balls with his other hand, giving himself more stimulation as she plays with her nipples and fucks herself.

"Ahh, are you thinking of having your way with me? Pushing your cock inside me and fucking me raw? Filling me up, full of your warm cum? Mm, I hope you are cause I'm thinking about it too!"- she whimpers loudly.

"Come on puppy, tell me when I can cum!"- she adds, fucking herself faster, her legs shaking as she brings her hand harshly into her hole.

"Fuck!"- Seungmin curses, his cock twitching hard in his hand.

~ Cum for me.

He types out when he feels close to his own high and she lets out a little gasp.

"Yes, puppy, cum with me too! I want you to cum all over me ahh!"- she moans and Seungmin's hips jerk upwards as he cums hard, at the same time she almost screams, pulling her fingers out as she squirts, her pussy visibly clenching around nothing.

Seungmin milks his cock dry as he looks at her beautiful flushed body, her pussy and thighs covered in her juices, her breasts shaking lightly with her ragged breathing.

"I hope you came with me. Now tell me which toy should I start with first? Or should I use both of them, fill both my holes?"- she giggles and Seungmin feels his spent cock twitch against his thigh.

Oh, it's just the beginning of the night.

-

Monday comes around, the day everyone dreads but not Seungmin.

It's another day he looks forward to, because he has lectures with you.

He barely knows you, you exchanged only polite hello's and a few sentences about your assignments and professors, you being Felix's friend who is Hyunjin's friend, brought you together as sometimes the four of you sit at the same table during lunch time at the cafeteria.

You're mostly quiet, hiding in big sweaters, your hair is always up in a neat bun or ponytail, your glasses sliding down your nose as you stare at your book.

Seungmin thinks you're adorable and also unapproachable as he, himself is a little shy and he tried to take the lead a few times, only for you to bite back short answers, your voice timid and your cheeks rosy.

You were like that with Hyunjin too at the beginning, shy and barely responding to him, but since he tries to fuck anything that walks and of course tried to flirt with you one too many times, you started being sarcastic and sassy with him, turning him down every time.

Seungmin wouldn't admit it out loud but he was enjoying every time you brought the cocky Hwang Hyunjin down to earth.

You seemed to only be somewhat relaxed around Felix, probably because you've known each other for quite a while, being friends even before college started.

Seungmin wishes he could be more like Felix, more extroverted and joyful, maybe then he'd get more of your attention, maybe then he'd get to talk to you more, find out about your desires, fears, dreams and interests.

"Well, I gotta go, I have a hot date."- Hyunjin stands up first, wiggling his eyebrows. "Any of y'all are welcome to join in for a little threesome."

"Ew."- you and Seungmin say at the same time, making Felix choke on his food as he tried to laugh and swallow the meat at the same time.

"Both of you are boring."- Hyunjin puts both thumbs down and Seungmin reaches up to slap his hands, making Hyunjin trip over his feet and almost fall as he tries to avoid him.

"Don't kill him. Yet."- Felix chimes in after a chug of water.

"I see you're siding with the snores. I'll catch you later then, my little retirement squad."- Hyunjin slips away with a smirk and a salute.

"Oh shit!"- Felix gasps suddenly, scrambling to get up. "I forgot I had a study date! I'm already late, I'll see you guys later!"- he grabs his stuff in a frenzy, running away comically as he tries to balance everything in his hands.

Seungmin and you watch as Felix almost bumps into another student carrying their tray of food, apologizing profusely as the person glares at him.

"He's a disaster sometimes."- you shake your head and Seungmin is taken aback, almost forgetting you're still sitting there. With him. Alone.

This is the first time that neither Hyunjin nor Felix are together with the two of you and Seungmin gulps, his heart picking up speed as you tilt your head at him, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, he is."- he answers quickly with a nervous chuckle and you seem to already move on, your nose in your book again.

"W-what are you reading?"- Seungmin tries a poor attempt at starting a conversation, when he can clearly read the title and the author since you're holding the book up.

You close the cover, looking at it like you've forgotten what you're reading.

"The giver. I've read it multiple times. I just read it sometimes between new books. To have like a familiar story before I move on to something I've never experienced before. It's comforting."- you talk, your cheeks reddening with every word you utter, your eyes darting down to your book as you scan the words you almost know at the top of your head.

"What's it about?"- Seungmin asks, actually interested in knowing what kind of story you find comforting, one you can repeat over and over again.

"It's about a seemingly utopian world where everyone has equal everything but the more details you find out about the world, as well as the role of the giver, the more your eyes open up to see it's far from being utopian. I won't spoil much in case you wish to read it someday."- you smile at Seungmin, pushing your glasses up, your eyes sparkly.

"Wow."- he exhales as he stares at your face. "I- I mean, it sounds very interesting. The book. I might give it a read."

"Let me know if you do. I wanna hear your thoughts."- you say and his heart flutters.

You wanna hear his thoughts.

"Well, it was nice talking to you but I have afternoon lectures. See you around."- you stand up, hiding your face from Seungmin and he feels a kind of longing wash over him, longing to be in your presence just for a little while more.

You quickly gather your stuff, and he sees a glimpse of your reddened cheeks as you wave bye to him and walk out, your sweet perfume lingering even after you're far down the road and Seungmin is still sitting there, his heart hammering in his chest.

He finds The Giver in the library that very same afternoon and hurries to his dorm to start reading as soon as he can.

-

Seungmin finds it easy to fall into the fictitious world of your comfort book, with every word he sees, he reads it in your voice, imagines you with your little bun, a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes and framing your pretty face, as your glasses slide down your nose.

He reads and reads, and then he thinks about you, your pretty lips and he wonders how you taste. He wonders how his hands would look while holding your face, the look you would give him as he leans in closer right before he seals his lips with yours. He wonders how it would feel to press his body against yours, to melt into your embrace. And how it would feel to be inside you, how beautiful you would be with nothing but your glasses on.

Seungmin's pants get terribly tight, but it feels wrong.

So wrong to touch himself at the thought of the sweet and kind you, so he turns to the only source of pleasure he knows. That familiar site he's on every Saturday, and when need hits, sometimes during the week too.

Like today, while his roommate is luckily away, off to fuck someone somewhere while Seungmin looks for her.

~ Hey, are you online?

Seungmin quickly sends her a message and the three dots indicating that she's typing pop up in an instant.

~ For you always, pup. Tell me what you need.

Seungmin swallows, his cock straining in his boxers.

~ Could you send me a video of you playing with your favorite toy?

He sends, and adds a generous tip immediately.

He waits for a little while, the erection painful in his boxers so he decides to shuck them off and slowly wrap his hand around his length.

~ video attachment

Seungmin jolts and clicks as fast as he can. She's completely naked, save for cute white thigh highs, her legs are spread open as she runs her favorite dildo on her wet folds.

"Mm, pup I wish it was you here with me now."- she says lowly, before she slowly starts pushing the toy into her desperate pussy.

Seungmin watches as it stretches around the dildo, sucking it in greedily and he jerks himself off faster, his legs trembling.

"I wish it was your dick stretching me, fucking me raw. I would let you cum inside me, puppy."- she moans as she pushes the whole toy inside her.

"Ahh, fuck!"- Seungmin moans a little too loudly as his cock twitches hard in his hand.

"I want you to fuck me dumb, pup. Ah, please!"- she whines desperately, fucking herself faster and harder. Seungmin moans quietly as he matches her pace, almost throwing his head back in pleasure but he doesn't want to miss a moment of her sweet pussy taking it.

"Ahh, I'm gonna cum for you!"- she moans before exploding around the toy, coating it in her release.

Seungmin's eyes roll back as he fucks his hand relentlessly, on the brink of his release.

"Cum inside me puppy, please!"- she keeps fucking herself, taking out another orgasm out of her pussy as she squirts all over herself. That tips Seungmin over the edge and he cums, spurting all over his hand and stomach.

"I hope you enjoyed that."- she giggles before the video ends.

~ Tell me if you need something more, I'll do it for you MongMong<3

He sees the last text as he clicks off the video, after saving it of course.

~ I wish I could see your face.

He types out after wiping himself off.

The typing bubble pops up and disappears a few times before she finally answers.

~ I'm sorry pup, that's the one thing I can't do.

Seungmin knew she would say that, and he understands, she doesn't even know who he is, how old he is, what he looks like. He could say he's whatever age he wants to be or send a picture of someone else, it's easy to hide behind a screen. It makes sense that she wants to keep herself safe.

~ I understand. Thank you for the vid.

~ Anytime!<3 Ty for the tip, handsome<3

Seungmin watches the video a few more times before his roommate stumbles into the dorm, and he hides his phone away, pretending to be asleep.

-

Felix and Hyunjin are deep into a heated conversation about some game characters, and Seungmin has tuned them out long ago. His attention is only on you, as you fumble with your glasses, your book resting on the side of course.

"I finished the giver."- he starts and you look up from cleaning your glasses, your eyes big and eyebrows lifted as your cheeks redden.

"Wow, that was quick! You're a fast reader."- you say, putting your glasses on and smoothing out that strand of hair that always falls out of your bun. Seungmin wishes he could reach out and put it behind your ear himself.

"The story was engaging."- he chuckles and you let out a small giggle. "Actually, it was really sad at some parts. And it ends with an open ending, we never know if they survived or not."

"I like to think they did. That's what's comforting to me."- you shrug, looking down at your plate.

"Could you imagine a world like that? To be robbed of everything that makes you unique, that makes you who you are?"- you add suddenly and Seungmin shakes his head.

"Sounds terrifying."- he says and you hum in agreement.

You seem to be contemplating something, sifting through your food with your fork as your cheeks become even more red.

Seungmin can see you muttering to yourself and he finds it so endearing.

"T-there's a book fair happening this weekend. I was wondering if you'd like to... go with me."- you say quietly, your eyes meeting his in a shy gaze.

Seungmin's heart hammers fast in his chest.

"I'd love to!"- he says a little too quickly, cringing at himself.

"Great! Um, maybe we could meet up in front of the cafeteria at 5pm?"- you ask, smiling at him.

"Sounds good."- Seungmin nods, trying not to look affected but deep in his mind he's clawing at the figurative wall.

"Where are y'all going?"- Hyunjin butts in suddenly.

"Nowhere of interest to you, Hwang."- you answer with a slight scowl on your face, and Seungmin suppresses a laugh behind his palms.

Hyunjin lifts his arms up in surrender, feigning an innocent look.

"Just say it's a date and I'll be out of your hair."- he says and you almost suffocate on your own saliva. "It's about time my little MongMong gets some."- he smirks and Seungmin is quick to punch his arm hard, making Hyunjin wail dramatically as he almost falls off the chair.

Felix is laughing histerically, holding up his phone as he films the whole chaotic scene.

Your eyes seem to widden at the nickname, the color draining from your face.

"You broke my arm!"- Hyunjin yelps, making a few people turn to look at him with an annoyed look on their faces.

"I'll break the other one too if you don't shut up."- Seungmin threatens while you sit quietly.

"Ugh... I gotta go. I'll see you Saturday."- you look at Seungmin before patting Felix on the head and saying bye to the whole table as you rush out of the cafeteria.

Seungmin stares at the door swinging after you ran out and Hyunjin smirks.

"You better get that p-"

"Finish the sentence, Hwang. I dare you."- Seungmin glares at him with his fist lifted and Hyunjin yelps.

"See! He bullies me! He beats me up!"- he says to Felix who shakes his head, chuckling.

"You're the one who starts it."- Felix says.

"Y'all are against me. I'm leaving."- Hyunjin gets up.

"Goodbye."- Seungmin says and the two of them unceremoniously flip each other off as Felix laughs at them.

"Be nice to y/n. She's a close friend of mine."- Felix says to Seungmin as soon as Hyunjin is out of earshot.

"Oh... Yeah, of course. I promise."- Seungmin says and Felix smiles.

"Good."- he nods and just then Seungmin becomes aware of the butterflies in his stomach.

-

Seungmin doesn't know how he managed to sleep the night before. Saturday was always his favorite day, but today it was even more special.

"How do I look?"- he's the one to ask Hyunjin that this time around, as his roommate lazes around on his bed, playing some dumb game on his phone.

"Yeah, I'd fuck you."- Hyunjin smirks.

"I didn't ask that, you asshole!"- Seungmin snaps and Hyunjin just laughs.

"It was implied."- he wiggles his eyebrows and Seungmin grabs his pillow.

"See this? I'm gonna suffocate you with it if you keep being gross."- he threatens and Hyunjin just smirks again.

"I mean, if that's what you're into, I'm okay with a little breath play."- he says.

"Oh my god, I am leaving. You're sick."- Seungmin makes gagging noises at his roommate, grabbing his stuff as fast as he could.

Hyunjin is giggling, loving the way he can always annoy his roommate and friend.

"Get that pussy, MongMong!"- he yells after him.

"Shut up, Hwang!"- Seungmin yells back, slamming the door as he steps out into the hallway.

Finally.

He arrives in front of the cafeteria a little too early, and he's shuffling from one foot to another, his heart stuck in his throat. Is this really happening?

Maybe he's just dreaming. If he is, he hopes he'll never wake up because there you are, walking towards him.

Seungmin almost sputters when he sees you with your hair down, wearing a dress and an oversized sweater over it.

It seems like he fell right into a scene from a movie where the protagonist finally gets the girl, and she's walking towards him in slow motion, her hair cascading down her shoulders as the wind blows through it, her face breaking into a smile as she notices him and waves.

Seungmin is absolutely stunned.

"Hey."- you say as you stand in front of him, your perfume and shampoo mixing and filling up the space between you and Seungmin melts.

"Hi. You look... different."- you dumb idiot, he thinks. You look different? What the heck is that?

"T-thanks, I guess?"- you chuckle quietly. "My hair is down, maybe because of that."- you conclude, tucking that one strand behind your ear and Seungmin's hand itches.

"Yeah, could be."- Seungmin hopes the earth swallows him up. Why is he so embarassing?

"Shall we go?"- you ask and Seungmin nods, as the two of you start walking.

Luckily, the location is only a 10 minute walk from your campus, so you didn't have to take the bus.

The two of you walked in silence at first before you found a common theme, talking about your lectures and professors.

Seungmin's worries kept slowly melting away as your conversation flows naturally.

Arriving at the fair, Seungmin had no idea it would be this big. The crowd really was something and there were so many stands with books and trinkets, somewhere down the line there were even stands with drinks and food.

"Oh wow, what a turn up this year!"- you say, your body buzzing with excitement.

"Yeah, I didn't think there'd be a crowd this huge."- Seungmin nods.

"That's not a problem, right?"- you ask, your eyes big and sparkly and he melts.

"No, of course not. I'm excited to see what they have here too."- Seungmin smiles a blindingly bright smile at you, noticing your cheeks becoming redder as you look at him.

You avert your eyes in favor of scanning the books perched on the stands, looking for a new fantasy world to immerse yourself in.

Seungmin quickly found out just how passionate you are about your reading, as you talked and talked like someone opened up a tap of water and the words kept spilling out of your lips.

To say he was delighted to see this more excited, bold side of you was an understatement. He absorbed every single thought you let out in the open, like a man with a hard addiction he wanted to hear more, he wanted you to keep talking so his brain could get a well craved dose of you.

All the talking and walking made the two of you hungry and you made your way towards one of the little fast food stands.

Your hands were occupied with two bags of books and Seungmin held two books that you recommended to him, ones that he planned to read religiously as soon as he could just so the two of you have even more to talk about.

"Let me help you with that."- he says, offering to carry your bags. You almost shy away, saying that it's not necessary but he insists so you give in.

You both get hot dogs and sodas, sitting at one of the high tables.

As you sit and eat, making small talk, Seungmin's eyes fall to your wrist, where you rolled up your sleeve.

A dainty bracelet with a little sun and half moon pendant adorns it and he wonders why it looks so familiar to him. Until it clicks.

Sunbeam28. The woman of his dreams, the one that sends him hot videos on demand, the one that calls him puppy and fucks herself in front of thousands of horny eyes. She has the same bracelet.

Seungmin swallows, it can't be.

It's just a bracelet. Maybe many other people have it, it must be. He gathers his thoughts as you sense his stare and look up at him.

There's no way someone as sweet and innocent as you says the things she says, does the things she does.

"Um, your bracelet. It's pretty."- Seungmin comments.

"Oh!"- you look at your wrist and smile fondly. "Felix got it for me, on my 18th birthday."

"Oh, that's really nice. So you and him?"- Seungmin trails off.

"He's like a brother to me."- you smile, wiping your hands on the napkin.

"Yeah, I figured."- hoped, is what he wants to say but doesn't. "It's nice that he found that bracelet for you, I mean it suits you well."- Seungmin tries again.

"He got it made for me. It's one of a kind."- you say and he almost chokes on his drink.

"Seungmin, are you okay?"- you panic as he coughs, lifting to your feet and tapping his back.

"Mhm."- he nods quickly, swallowing and then drinking again. "Fine. I'm fine."

Completely fucking fine.

That can only mean one thing. You and Sunbeam28 are the same person. Seungmin lets out a quiet incredulous laugh. Out of everywhere in the world the woman on his screen lives on the same campus as him. Out of everyone, he fell for you twice.

But the sweet shy girl with red cheeks in front of him looks nothing like the sexy seductress that could have him wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds.

He wonders how much you hide away, and he comes to the realization that he already saw everything.

His face feels hot and you look up at him expectantly.

"You sure you're okay?"- you ask.

"Yeah, more than okay."- he tries to reassure you and maybe himself too.

It's almost your streaming time, Seungmin thinks as the two of you walk back towards the campus.

"I had a really good time."- you say shyly when he walks you to your dorm.

"Me too."- he smiles, watching you tuck your hair behind your ear.

He gets an overwhelming wish to taste your cherry colored lips.

"Well, see you Monday."- you say, before turning around and leaving hurriedly.

"See you!"- Seungmin calls behind you, clutching the books in his hand.

-

He's logged on as soon as Hyunjin disappears off to party at 11pm like clockwork.

"Hi, MongMong22. Glad to see you here again tonight."- a seductive voice says.

Again? Again, like another Sunday or again as in you somehow know?

There's no way you could know.

"Tonight is a special night. I'm feeling extra giving so I will let my viewers take complete control over me. I'm talking what toy I use, how fast or slow I go, where I put it, when I cum... Everything is in your hands my dear viewers. I'm looking forward to tonight."- you let out a little chuckle, and Seungmin is 100% sure now. You are Sunbeam28.

~ We want you naked.

Someone comments and you giggle again.

"Your wish is my command, chat."- you say and take off the flimsy see through black bra and panties.

"Here we have a selection of all my toys. I'm counting on you to be creative."- you say, spreading your legs and letting everyone see your pussy, already glistening with arousal. The thought of being at the mercy of faceless viewers excited you so much.

~ Put on the nipple clamps.

Seungmin types out quickly. He wants, no needs to ruin you. How can you walk around so shyly, your nose always in your books, while here with the promise of anonymity you're such a horny little thing. He can't wrap his head around the duality.

"Anything for you, puppy."- your voice is low as you grab your pretty shiny nipple clamps. You tease your nipples a little, pinching and pulling on them, before you put on the clamps.

A whimper spills from your lips at the pain shooting through you, bringing pleasure to your core as arousal gushes out of it.

You flick your nipples a little, moaning quietly.

~ Does it hurt?

Seungmin asks, his hand palming his hard cock through his boxers.

"Mm it hurts so good pup. So good."- you whimper as you play with them, pulling on them and biting on your lip. Wishing you could close your legs to create some friction for your throbbing pussy but you want your dear viewers to have a good look at your greedy hole the entire time.

~ Use the vibrator

Someone adds and giggles spill from your lips as you take a hold of your toy.

"On my clit?"- you ask, playing with the settings.

~ Yes

Comments pour in and you press the tip on your clit, engorged and throbbing from arousal.

"How high should I turn it on?"

~ Highest. And don't cum unless I tell you to.

Seungmin gets bold, his cock now free from it's confines as he strokes it, his pre cum lubing it up perfectly.

"Mm yes pup."- you moan, turning up the settings to the highest point you could, pressing the vibrator into your clit hard.

"Ah!"- you moan wantonly, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

Seungmin curses as he can now imagine your pretty face, all fucked out, your eyes rolled back and tongue out as you moan, your legs shaking with pleasure, your tight little pussy clenching and begging to be touched and fucked.

He wonders if you still have your glasses on.

You're on the brink, barely holding in and the chat is exploding with different comments but you're waiting for him to tell you to cum.

"P-please, puppy. I wanna cum for you. Please!"- you whimper and Seungmin smirks behind the screen, flicking his wrist and also edging himself, just so he can follow your pace.

He doesn't answer yet, waiting a little more as your legs shake violently, arousal constantly gushing out of your pussy and soaking the bedsheet underneath you.

You play with your pinched nipples, the added pain makes your mind so cloudy and you keep begging.

~ Cum for me.

Seungmin fucks his hand as you grind on your bed.

"Ah, thank you puppy!"- you whimper as you cum, squirting on the bed in front of you, the liquid slides down your ass and you whimper, grinding against your own release.

Seungmin waits, he didn't come yet, not until you fall apart.

~ Let's see that little pussy take the biggest cock.

It's like something possessed him when he types that out, he's always had requests for you but he's never been this crass.

He could see your pussy clench at his words.

"Ah puppy, you wanna see my little pussy stuffed full to the brim? See it take this monster cock inch by inch just for you?"- he can hear the smirk and the need in your voice.

~ Yes. Don't make me wait.

"Ahh my puppy is so bossy tonight."- you tease, grabbing some lube to help you out, pouring it on your hands and the dildo generously before you start spreading it as you pump the toy.

"Watch closely."- you say, the tip of the dildo slowly pushed between your folds, as it catches and slips through and your eyes roll back as the toy breaches in, stretching your little pussy around it.

You whimper, pushing more of the toy in, determined to take as much as you can, push your limits as the thick long dildo forces your cunt open.

~ Fuck yourself faster

He comments and your moans are music to Seungmin's ears, together with the wet sounds your pussy makes as you start pounding your cunt. He fists his cock, matching your pace as you strain your wrist, your hole swallowing more than half the monster dildo.

"Ahh fuck puppy, I wish it was you! Fucking me, ruining my little pussy with your cock!"- you whine as you fuck yourself, the thought of when Hyunjin called your crush MongMong the other day flying through your mind. And you imagine him.

You imagine Seungmin pounding the absolute fuck out of you and you speed up, your head thrown back, not even caring about the camera anymore.

On the other side, Seungmin's legs are shaking as he watches you come undone, his cock twitching and he can't hold it in anymore, his warm cum shooting out in spurts as you babble and fuck your cunt until you explode all over yourself.

"Ah, shit!"- you curse. "I got carried away, chat."

But the comments are overwhelmingly positive as your eyes scan through them, trying to focus on the screen.

~ Please wanna see u fuck ur ass

Someone comments, and you chuckle.

"I'm afraid time's up. But next Saturday, I will wear the prettiest buttplug just for you."- you cheekily click your tongue.

Seungmin is still trying to catch his breath.

And he still can't believe it's you. Sweet y/n. Such a desperate little slut.

He wants to make you his.

-

It's the only class all four of you have together and Seungmin has a skip in his step after the weekend.

When he sees you standing and talking to Felix, all his confidence crumbles and his face burns as he remembers what he typed out and how sinful you were during that live.

As soon as you notice him, you quickly avert your eyes, your face matching his in color as you both blush. Felix smirks as his eyes travel between the two of you.

"Hello, Minnie."- Felix teases and Seungmin narrows his eyes at him.

"Don't call me that. Sounds like you're calling me short and I'm taller than you."- he says and Felix gasps, grabbing at his chest.

"Damn, don't have to rub it in my face."- he jokes and Hyunjin appears behind him, throwing his arm around Felix's shoulders.

"Who's rubbing what into your face? I volunteer."- he smirks.

"Ew."- you and Seungmin recoil at the same time again, making the two of them chuckle and exchange knowing looks.

"Moving on."- Felix shakes Hyunjin's arm off as he pouts on the side. "Y/n and I were just talking how fun it would be if the four of us would do the assignment together. Specifically, I'd like to pair up with Hyunjin."

"Ah, I know you want me Lix. We can arrange something."- Hyunjin smirks.

"Get your head out of your ass, Hwang."- you chime in and Seungmin can't help the cackle that falls from his lips. But you notice the little blush blossoming on Felix's face and your eyes widden.

Of course he fell for the playboy's charm.

"Anyways! Seungmin and y/n can work on their part together."- Felix continues, playing with his fingers nervously as Hyunjin keeps smirking at him.

"Alright, I like that mash up."- you nod, your cheeks dusted in pink and Seungmin's heart skips a beat.

"How about you come to my place tonight and we can start?"- when did you get so bold, Seungmin thinks. Is he even breathing right now?

"S-sure, that sounds good."

"Great, Lixie you can come to our dorm then. The snooze fest will happen over at y/n's dorm and you can have the only fun person here all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at Felix.

"I'm sure he's absolutely estatic about that."- Seungmin shakes his head, missing the way Felix fumbles over his words.

"I promise I'll behave."- Hyunjin winks.

He definitely will not behave, Seungmin thinks, but as he looks at Felix he concludes that maybe Felix would like that.

-

The evening comes around quicker than anticipated. Seungmin is in front of your door, checking his hair, his breath and his heartbeat a hundred times.

He brought his laptop and stuff to work on the project together but that's the last thing in his mind right now.

He's gonna see the room. The bed. The one you do the most sinful things on, in front of the camera.

He knocks and you open the door, looking comfy and sweet, your hair up in your famous bun, the strands falling into the frame of your glasses and you're wearing a cute pyjama set, complete with shorts that reveal your pretty legs.

That must be on purpose, Seungmin thinks, or hopes.

"Hey, I hope it's not messy. I had to help my roommate pack, she's had some family emergency so I didn't get to clean up everything."

"No, it's completely fine. I understand."- Seungmin smiles as you lead him to your room.

"Let's just go to my room, my computer and materials are there."- you say and he follows, visibly gulping.

The moment he steps in, recognition settles in his stomach.

"Sit wherever you want."- you say. Will he dare to sit on the bed?

Yes, he will.

He sits down and looks up at you, you're biting at your lip like your were contemplating something, your eyes averting away from his, your cheeks becoming rosy again.

"Let's begin."- you quickly snap out of whatever you were thinking about and sit at your table.

Seungmin is disappointed but he's convinced you'd never make the first move even if you did want him and somehow he feels he'd have to break that ice soon or he might miss his chance with you.

-

Two hours later, both of you get a little tired and hungry from all the work you've done so you decide to order some food. In the meantime you show him some of your favorite books from your book collection (part of it that you could have in the dorm), and his heart swells at your excited babbling.

The food arrives shortly and you invite Seungmin to sit next to you so the two of you can eat. The table is small, your hands keep brushing against each other as you reach for different side dishes, your knees pressed against each other.

Something stirs inside him and Seungmin watches you as you wipe your lips with a napkin, that damn hair getting in your eyes again.

He can't ignore the need anymore, his hand reaches to tuck the strand behind your ear. You freeze before you look up at him.

"You're really pretty."- he says suddenly, surprising himself.

"Seungmin-" - you start, a little gasp escaping your lips as his hand cups your cheek.

"No, let me finish. I need to say it now when I feel brave. I- I really like you. Well, more than that. I'm falling for you, y/n and I don't know if I've read the signals wrong but I think you might feel the same."

"Oh..."- you look shocked, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "I do, I really do. I've had a crush on you ever since I first saw you."- you confess, playing with your fingers.

Seungmin feels delighted, like a weight has been lifted off of his chest and he smiles brightly and sweetly at you.

"Can I kiss you?"- he asks quietly and your heart skips a beat.

"Please."- your voice almost comes out in a whimper and both of you lean in, your lips touching, figurative fireworks exploding around you as you sigh a breath of relief into each other, your lips moving perfectly together.

The kiss becomes heated quickly, as you keep leaning closer into each other, hands roaming on your bodies.

"S-Seungmin, I need to ask you something."- you whisper against his lips and he leans back, looking at you with hazy eyes.

"Anything."- he nods.

"Are you... Are you MongMong22?"- you gulp and his eyes widden as he gasps.

"You know?"- he asks and you chuckle nervously.

"Hyunjin called you that one time. Did you know I was-"

"Sunbeam28? Found out recently. Well I figured it out by your bracelet."

"I knew you knew. As soon as you asked me about it."- you say and a glint of something dangerous shines in your eyes.

"Are you uncomfortable that I know your secret?"- Seungmin asks.

"God no. I can just skip explaining it to you, if we're gonna date. I want to be transparent about it and somehow knowing you know and that you're... well, my biggest fan is somehow comforting."- you chuckle.

"I am your biggest fan."- Seungmin smirks, his gut stirring.

"What now?"- you swallow.

"Now, I'm gonna kiss you again."- Seungmin says, his eyes darkening as he leans in and kisses you slowly, his tongue pushing your lips open and playing with yours. You moan into the kiss, holding onto him desperately as his hands ground you.

"Wanna move this to the bed?"- you ask and Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he stands up.

You stand up too, fully expecting him to take you to your bed but Seungmin grabs you, making you squeal in surprise as he turns you around, pressing you into the table, and pressing his semi hard cock into your ass. His hand grips your bun and he pulls your head back.

"A-ah!"- you whimper in surprise and arousal.

"What's your safeword?"- he asks and you shiver.

"Are you familiar with the traffic light system?"- you ask, your voice trembling.

"Of course."- his breath ghosts on your neck, lips brushing against your skin.

Your lips open and close a few times but no coherent words come out as he starts grinding his cock between your plush asscheeks.

"Is this what you craved all this time, hm?"- his voice is low as he whispers into your ear.

"Mm, yes."- you let out a shaky breath as you grip at the shelf before you.

"You act all innocent and sweet, hiding behind those big glasses when you're nothing but a little slut looking to have all her holes filled."- he says and you gasp as his free hand comes up to grab your breast.

Good thing you didn't wear a bra today.

Seungmin turns you around, his long fingers wrapping around your neck before he leans in to kiss you hard, dominating you as he presses his body against yours. You melt as you wrap your arms around him, you can't believe this is actually happening and neither can he.

For some reason it feels natural as he leads you to the bed. Before you can lay down he stops you as he smirks.

"Strip."- he orders and you listen immediately, getting rid of your pjs and your panties. You had no problem showing your body on camera, and now even less with Seungmin, knowing he loves it, knowing he came so many times just because of you.

There's a kind of power you feel in that moment, and you decide to put everything in his hands, let him take the reigns this time, knowing you definitely have him wrapped around your little finger.

Seungmin pushes you down and you sit on the bed where he's seen you sit many times before, but this time he can see your pretty face together with your beautiful body that he's seen so many times on the screen and craved to touch it.

You reach to take your glasses off and he stops you.

"Leave those on. You look so sexy like that."- he says and you whimper quietly, spreading your legs tentively.

Seungmin chuckles, hands gripping your plushy thighs.

"Already spreading your legs? So eager."- he smirks.

"Yeah, don't you want me to?"- you bat your eyelashes at him, your pussy on display, gushing with arousal, knowing that you're at his mercy now.

"Keep them open then."- he says, spreading you even more, until there's resistance and your inner thighs hurt but you stay spread for him.

"Anything for you, pup."- you smirk and hearing you say that nickname in real life makes his dick twitch. "Whatever you want I-"

"You talk too much."- he stops you, fingertips on your lips and you part them, allowing him to push two of his fingers in.

You whimper around his digits, your eyes rolling back as his other hand slides down to caress your breast and play with your nipple.

You start sucking on his fingers as he pushes them as deep as he can, pinching and pulling your nipple harshly. You jolt, moaning around him again as he hovers over you.

"You like being pacified like this?"- you nod weakly. "Maybe you need something bigger, hm?"

You keen as he pulls out his fingers, his hands moving to remove his belt and unbutton his pants.

The belt is placed aside, and he lets his pants fall to his ankles before he steps out and pushes them aside.

His shirt comes off next and you almost wanna grind on the bed from the neediness you feel.

Seungmin is smirking as you eye his bulge, gulping at the size of it.

"Whenever I watched your live streams, I wished I could see your face, so many times I've wanted to ask you to send me a video of you sucking on your favorite toy. I'd make you take all of it. I don't care how but you'd do it."

"I would! I swear!"- you whimper. "Please!"

"Please what?"- Seungmin grips your hair, your bun messed up now.

"Let me make your fantasy come true but even better."- you look at him with a mix of lust and cheekiness and Seungmin really wants to stuff your face full of his cock.

He finally gets rid of his boxers, his hard cock springing out, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

"I wanna be on my knees for you, puppy."- you whimper, and Seungmin's cock visibly twitches.

"Be my guest."- he smirks and you get down on your knees, wasting no time as you wrap your lips around his head, tongue lapping at the pre-cum.

Seungmin sucks in a sharp breath, his hand coming around to grip and hold onto your messy bun.

You suck eagerly and he chuckles a little.

"I think you want more."- he slowly slides more of his length in as he holds your head down and your eyes flutter as you look up at him hazily, folding your hands on your back.

Seungmin fucks your face slowly at first, pushing a little bit more in with every thrust, watching your pretty eyes stare at him through your glasses.

You take it, relaxing your throat and steadying your breathing, you've trained yourself to not gag and be a perfect slut, especially if one day you'd wanna reveal your face and suck on your toys in front of all your eager viewers.

Seungmin easily slides all his length into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried in his pubic hair.

Your eyes roll back and so do his, you're so warm and compliant, like your mouth was made for swallowing his whole cock.

"Tap my thigh if you can't take it."- he says, a bit breathless before he grips your hair harder and starts fucking your face.

Your eyes are blurry, tears sliding down your cheeks, as Seungmin abuses your throat with his thick, long cock but you love the feeling of choking on him every time his throbbing tip hits the back of your throat.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and you press them together.

Seungmin's eyes are trained on your face, you look so pretty like this, all eager and full of him, your glasses sliding down your nose, strands of your hair framing your flushed teary cheeks.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."- Seungmin's cock twitches inside you, and he's already close.

Just the image of you taking it drives him crazy and he starts fucking your face wildly, you wonder how your glasses don't fall off from the strength he's fucking you with.

"I'm close."- he whines and you moan around him, more tears spilling out.

"You're gonna take all of it. Swallow like a good slut."- he moans as he fucks into you hard.

Your eyes flutter at his words and his hips stutter before he shoots his load right into your throat and you almost choke on it. You swallow as quickly as you can, taking everything he's giving you.

"Shit."- he leans away, his cock slipping out of your mouth and you cough a little, a dopey smirk on your face as he reaches to wipe your tears away.

He helps you up and kisses you until you're breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.

Your body is pushed down on your bed and Seungmin slots himself between your thighs.

"Tell me, is your collection of toys hidden somewhere around here?"

"Oh, yeah. You wanna see? Maybe use some of them on me?"- you bite on your lip.

"Another time. Tonight I want you to only know the shape of my cock."- he smirks, dragging his already semi-hard cock on your soaking wet pussy.

"S-Seungmin!"- you whimper, your pussy pulsating with arousal and need to be filled up.

He moves back, leaving you wanting more, his hands splayed on your waist and then hips before he quickly turns you around on all fours.

You gasp a little, grabbing at your pillow and you hear the buckle of his belt jingling.

"I want your hands above your head."- he says and you obey, he ties your wrists together and your hands to the bed with his belt.

You whimper as he spreads your legs more and lands a smack on your ass.

"Wanted to feel you for so long."- he runs his tip on your wet pussy, the folds opening up and inviting him in.

"Wanted to make you mine."- he growls lowly, the tip sliding inside you, one of his hands on the back of your neck, holding your head down and the other holding onto your hip.

"Make me yours, Seungmin! I want to be only yours!"- you moan as he slowly pushes in.

"Only my slut, yeah?"

"Yes, only your slut!"- his cock slides in easily due to your wetness and eagerness, he bottoms out quickly, filling you up to the brim and making both of you groan at the feeling.

"S-so full."- you moan, pushing your hips back into him.

"Yeah, you feel full?"- Seungmin chuckles, dragging his cock out before slamming it back into you with force, making your body lunge forward.

"M-more!"- you beg and Seungmin grips both your hips, knowing you can take it hard and fast, he's seen how you fuck yourself multiple times.

His hips start moving faster, slamming into you, his cock abusing your wet hole, the squelching and slapping sounds filling up the room.

"S-spank me, please!"- you moan desperately, your fingers clutching at the belt that's digging into your skin deliciously.

Seungmin indulges you, spanking you hard with every thrust, bringing his weight down onto you as he hovers over you. Your upper body is pressed into the matress, only your ass is up as you take his cock deep inside.

His other hand tangles in your messy hair, gripping a fistful of it.

You're a crying, whining mess as he rips you apart, his cock is unforgiving inside you, better than any plastic toy you have.

"Fuck, you take my cock so well. You're nothing but a little slut. Wouldn't you like it if I turned the camera on now, let everyone watch you get fucked?"

"Mm yes, yes!"- your mind is mushy and you're close, feeling like you're going to explode.

"Cum for me slut. Only for me."- Seungmin growls as he spanks you hard, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

"Ah yes! Seungmin!"- you whine loudly, exploding around his length, and he pulls out quickly cumming on your ass as you squirt.

The feeling of his hot cum on your skin makes you whimper as you grip at the belt harder.

The only thing that can be heard for a few moments is both of you breathing heavily before you hear Seungmin standing up and leaving to your bathroom.

You lay with your eyes closed, trying to come back down from the high and he comes back with a warm wet cloth, gently cleaning you up.

"How long are you keeping me tied up?"- you smile cheekily and Seungmin chuckles, your hair is a mess, your glasses lopsided and your cheeks tear stained. You look absolutely adorable to him and he falls into you even more.

"Just a few more moments."- he teases, wiggling his eyebrows, but he reaches for the belt, untying it and freeing your hands.

Your wrists are red and Seungmin gasps a little as you turn around, he gently takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."- he says.

"No, it's fine. I can take it."- you bite on your lip as he leaves little kisses all over your heated skin.

"I wanted to ask you out on a date but um... I guess we fast-forwarded a little."- Seungmin chuckles as you slowly sit up.

"I'd love to go on a date."- you smile, your hand inching closer to his, your fingers tangling together.

"Could end up a double date with Felix and Hyunjin though."- you add, giggling behind your palm.

"I thought I picked up on that but I wasn't sure."- he shakes his head.

"We'll see tomorrow."- you shrug.

"When's your roommate coming back?"- Seungmin asks, suddenly seeming timid.

"Oh, not in a few days probably. You can stay the night if that's what you're asking."- you smirk and pull him down, grabbing your blanket and throwing it haphazardly around the two of you.

Your legs tangle together and you look at each other, hands gently roaming everywhere.

"Do you mind me stripping and doing all that stuff in front of the camera?"- you ask and Seungmin chuckles.

"No, as long as I'm the only one who gets you in real life."- he kisses your forehead and your heart flutters.

"I like the sound of that."- you smile and settle into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.

Sleep comes easy to the both of you.

-

The next day as you approach the cafeteria, the two of you see Hyunjin and Felix walking towards you, holding onto each other's pinky fingers.

"Look at that."- you laugh as you near them.

Felix quickly rips his hand away from Hyunjin when he notices both of you walking towards them.

"Hey, why are you ashamed of me! I'm like the hottest guy on campus!"- Hyunjin flails his arms dramatically.

"See, it's that attitude."- Felix comments and both of you laugh.

"And here I thought you liked my cockiness."- Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Felix, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"This is what I put up with."- he shakes his head at the taller boy.

"Is there something the two of you would like to share with us?"- you smirk.

"Only if the two of you also have something to share."- Hyunjin smirks back.

"How about we share a double date on Friday?"- Seungmin asks, winking at you.

"Finally! A foursome!"- Hyunjin exclaims and Felix smacks his arm.

"No more foursomes for you."- he hisses and everyone laughs.

"Alright, alright. You can keep me all to yourself."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows and Felix smiles shyly, his cheeks rosy.

You and Seungmin intertwine your fingers, your palms pressing together as you smile at each other.

Maybe it was meant to be like this from the beginning.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand

[woso-story]

Mascot

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Baby x BarcaTeam

It was the final home game of the season for FC Barcelona, and the energy in the air was electric. Fans filled the stadium, eagerly awaiting the match, and the players in the locker room were buzzing with excitement. But there was something even more special about this day: Ingrid and Mapi's two-year-old daughter, Mila, was going to be the team’s mascot. It was a huge moment, a chance for the young girl to be a part of something much bigger than herself. But what no one could have predicted was how much drama and chaos would unfold as everyone tried to claim the right to walk out with her.

Ingrid and Mapi had both been looking forward to this day for weeks, eagerly preparing Mila for the moment she would step onto the pitch with one of the players. The anticipation was contagious, and soon, it was clear that the entire team was just as excited about it as they were. As soon as the news broke that Mila would be walking out onto the pitch with one of the players, the locker room erupted. Every player seemed to think that they should be the one walking out with Mila.

“I should walk out with her,” Mapi declared confidently, her voice carrying across the room. “She’s my daughter. It’s my right.”

Her words were met with a mix of reactions. Esmee, ever the contrarian, raised her eyebrows. “That can’t be the reason! Ingrid gave birth to Mila, so Ingrid should have the first right.”

Ingrid smiled and put a hand on Mapi’s shoulder, trying to keep the peace. “I don’t mind at all,” Ingrid said gently. “I’m just proud of her. It doesn’t matter to me who gets to walk out with her.”

But that was easier said than done. Esmee and Kika, notorious for their playful antics, began tossing around lollipops and candy, offering them to Mila in hopes of winning her favor. “Mila, sweetie, come with me, and I’ll give you all the sweets you can eat,” Esmee coaxed, holding up a candy bar.

Ingrid, eyes narrowing, scolded them with a look. “Don’t spoil her before the game, you two,” she said, but her voice was lighthearted, knowing there was no stopping them.

As the argument continued, Alexia, Mila’s godmother, piped up, “Wait a second. I’m Mila’s godmother, so I should be the one walking out with her.” She grinned playfully, though there was a competitive edge to her tone.

Frido, not one to be left out, immediately joined in, “I’m Mila’s godmother too. I have just as much of a right as you, Alexia! And besides, she loves me the most!”

The back-and-forth grew more intense as everyone tried to prove why they should be Mila’s chosen partner. Aitana, who had been watching the frenzy quietly, finally spoke up, her voice calm and reassuring, “For me, it doesn’t matter who walks out with her. I’m just proud of Mila.”

But it wasn’t enough to calm the storm. Patri was now trying to convince Mila that she was the most fun. “You should choose me! I’m the fun one, Mila. I’m the one who knows how to have a good time!” She winked as she squatted down in front of Mila, making silly faces to entertain her

It was clear that this decision wasn’t going to be easy. The room had descended into complete pandemonium. Every player seemed convinced that they were the one Mila would choose, and the noise and bickering were reaching a fever pitch.

Ingrid, trying to maintain some semblance of control, raised her hands, demanding silence. “Okay, that’s enough!” she called out, her voice firm but not unkind. “The only person who gets to decide who Mila walks out with is Mila herself.”

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to look at Ingrid. Mapi, standing beside her, had a soft smile on her face, her confidence unwavering. She was Mila’s mother, after all. Mila loved her, and Mapi was the one who made her laugh and played with her every day. Of course, Mila would want to walk out with her.

Ingrid gently sat Mila down on a bench in the locker room, her fingers brushing back Mila’s wild curls as Mapi knelt beside her. The two of them looked down at their daughter, who was blissfully unaware of the whirlwind of drama she had caused.

“Mila,” Ingrid asked, her voice soft, “who do you want to walk out with today? You can pick anyone you like.”

Mapi leaned forward, her expression full of love and hope. “Come on, sweetheart, you want to walk out with your mami, don’t you?” she said, her voice full of affection.

Mila, who had been playing with the corner of her jacket, looked up at both of them, her little face scrunching in thought. Then, without warning, she got up, her tiny feet padding across the locker room floor. She toddled straight over to Caroline, who was standing by the door, watching with a warm smile.

Mila stopped in front of Caroline, her tiny arms reaching up, and with a determined look on her face, she said, “I want to go with Caroline.”

The room went silent as everyone processed what had just happened. Mapi’s face fell, her heart sinking as she realized that Mila had chosen someone else. Caroline, her smile wide and gentle, scooped Mila up into her arms, clearly touched by the choice.

“You want to go with me?” Caroline asked, holding Mila close. “Of course, sweetie.”

Mapi’s expression was a mix of shock, hurt, and confusion. How could her own daughter pick someone else? How could Mila, who had spent so much time with Mapi, choose Caroline over her?

Ingrid, seeing Mapi’s reaction, chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through her hair. She kissed Mapi on the top of her head. “Well, I guess Mila made her choice,” Ingrid said, her voice warm but teasing. “Let’s not argue about it.”

But Mapi couldn’t shake the feeling of being betrayed. “I don’t get it. How could she choose Caroline? I’m her mami!”

The rest of the team, though disappointed, had to accept Mila’s decision. A few muttered under their breath, “Of course it’s Caroline, the favorite Tia,” but the tension slowly started to dissipate.

So, it was settled. Mila would walk out with Caroline. The two of them stood in the tunnel before the match, Caroline holding Mila securely in her arms, while Mila proudly wore a jersey with the words “Engen-Leon” printed on the back, a small tribute to both of her mothers. Mapi stood nearby, still looking slightly betrayed but also proud. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw how happy Mila looked.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the teams made their way onto the pitch. Mila, laughing and waving, basked in the adoration of the fans. She was clearly enjoying the attention, delighted by the cheers and the energy of the stadium. She even made it into the team picture, beaming as she held the pennant. Afterward, Mila high-fived each player, before Ingrid took her to the bench.

---

After the match, the final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted into cheers. FC Barcelona had secured another win, and the players were basking in the glory of the victory. But for Mapi, the best moment came when she spotted Mila running toward her on the pitch.

With her little feet scrambling across the grass, Mila’s face was lit up with excitement, her eyes wide and full of joy from the experience of being the mascot. Mapi crouched down as Mila reached her, her arms open wide.

“Mami!” Mila squealed, launching herself into Mapi’s embrace.

Mapi caught her effortlessly, lifting her high into the air and spinning her around in delight. The stadium lights shone down, casting a glow on the two of them, and Mapi couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with pride.

“You did so great out there, baby,” Mapi said, her voice soft with affection as she held Mila close.

Mila giggled, her little hands clapping in excitement. “I waved at the people!” she announced, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

Mapi laughed, pressing a kiss to Mila’s forehead. “Yes, you did! You were perfect.”

They stood there for a moment, taking in the moment together, surrounded by the energy of the crowd, the celebrations, and the vibrant pitch. Mapi held Mila close, feeling the warmth of her little body against her chest, and she knew that this was the kind of moment that made everything worth it.

Despite the earlier confusion over who would walk out with Mila, the joy on her daughter’s face was all Mapi needed. She gently set Mila down, watching as she toddled around, chasing after a ball one of the other players kicked her way.

As Mapi stood there, taking in the scene, she felt a quiet sense of contentment. No matter what had happened, she was here with her daughter on the pitch, and that was enough.

[realityjoey]

SEASON 1, EPISODE 4, “THE SWITCH.”

The morning hum of the precinct had its usual rhythm — coffee brewing, boots stomping across tile, the occasional shouted “Where’s my damn vest?” echoing from the locker rooms.

But there was an energy in the air. A kind of anticipatory buzz that hinted at chaos, the kind that only Sergeant Grey seemed capable of orchestrating without ever raising his voice.

The bullpen filled fast. Tim Bradford leaned against the wall at the back of the briefing room, arms folded across his chest, watching the usual suspects file in. His expression was unreadable — but the slight twitch of his jaw said he was already skeptical.

Beside him, Dylan Jenkins strolled in, black coffee in hand, her eyes sharp and steady, that usual air of British smugness wrapped around her like armour. She clocked the mischievous glint in Grey’s eyes before he even said a word.

Uh-oh.

Grey cleared his throat, standing tall at the front with his clipboard. “Today is a special day.”

Bradford rolled his eyes. “Here we go…”

Dylan smirked into her coffee.

Grey continued. “As part of your ongoing development, and because some of you are getting a little too comfortable in your partnerships, we’re mixing things up.”

A ripple of surprise — and light panic — moved through the room.

“Today, you’re each going to work with someone new. Not just to test your adaptability, but to challenge your communication, your habits, and your trust.”

He began reading off the new pairings, voice firm and deliberate.

“Chen — you’re with Bishop.”

Lucy blinked, wide-eyed, and looked over at Bishop, who just offered a tight-lipped, amused smile.

“Nolan — you’re riding with Officer Yates.”

John sighed softly and gave a nervous thumbs up to the corner where Yates leaned, already unimpressed.

“Bradford — you’re with West.”

Jackson grinned like a kid unwrapping a gift. “Let’s go, Coach.”

Tim muttered under his breath, “This is going to be a long day…”

“Lopez,” Grey said, “you’re with Jenkins.”

Angela Lopez’s eyebrows shot up — and despite herself, she let out a soft but audible: “Yes.”

Dylan looked over, amused. “You alright there, partner?”

Lopez played it cool. “Just… always nice to work with someone who’s actually intimidating on purpose.”

Dylan’s grin widened. “Flattery gets you a better playlist.”

The truth was, Angela Lopez was genuinely thrilled. She’d admired Dylan since day one — her quiet intensity, her control, that cool accent and no-bullshit approach. Dylan was a walking detective’s manual with a tragic past and a wry sense of humour. And she carried herself like someone who could win a bar fight with one arm.

Lopez wanted to learn. And Dylan? Dylan secretly felt the same. Lopez was sharp, assertive, and charismatic in a way Dylan would never be. She liked her. Which unnerved her slightly.

But she wasn’t going to admit that. Obviously.

Grey stepped forward again. “One more thing — today’s not just about routine patrols or team-building exercises.”

Cue Tim’s second eye-roll of the morning.

Grey went on, “Your objective today is to learn one personal thing about your temporary partner. Something they don’t advertise. Something real.”

There was a collective groan from every corner of the room.

“No surface-level nonsense,” Grey clarified. “I don’t want to hear about favorite bands or pet names. I want something they wouldn’t normally share. And by end-of-shift, you’ll each report back.”

“Seriously?” Tim muttered.

Grey met his eyes directly. “Yes, seriously. You all spend more time with each other than your own families. It’s about time you acted like it.”

“Sounds invasive,” Dylan said casually, sipping her coffee. “I’m in.”

Grey glanced at her. “Careful, Jenkins. You’re not as impenetrable as you think.”

She raised a brow, accepting the challenge with a half-shrug.

Tim pushed off the wall, heading toward Jackson without a word. But the moment his back was turned, Dylan caught the way he glanced her way — just for a beat.

That half-second pause.

A reluctant tug at the corner of his mouth.

He wouldn’t say it — ever — but she knew.

He was going to miss riding with her.

As Dylan turned toward Lopez, Angela was already flipping open a notebook from her vest pocket.

“Alright,” she said. “First question — what’s your interrogation strategy when someone’s clearly lying but knows they’re cleverer than you?”

Dylan blinked. “Wow. Straight to it.”

“I don’t mess around.”

Dylan smirked. “You’re not going to let me get through the day without talking about my feelings, or detective tips, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

And with that, the pairs began to peel away, fanning out toward patrol cars, assignment sheets in hand, new energy in their step.

Dylan Jenkins had no doubt she’d uncover something about Lopez.

What she didn’t realise — not yet — was just how much Lopez was going to dig out of her.

The briefing room had emptied quickly after roll call, with rookies filing out toward their assigned units like chess pieces scattering across the board. The parking lot hummed with the sound of cruisers starting up, boots hitting pavement, clipped conversation crackling through open radios.

But just outside the rear entrance, in the slight shadow of the awning, four training officers lingered.

Tim Bradford. Talia Bishop. Angela Lopez. And Officer Yates.

All four leaned against the concrete wall in practiced silence — the kind that only came from people used to leading the charge. For a moment, no one spoke. Just the shared nods, the low clink of coffee cups and tactical belts.

Then, naturally, Lopez broke the silence.

“So,” she said casually, hands on her hips, “Jenkins. What am I in for?”

Tim didn’t immediately respond. He stared out toward the lot, watching as Dylan disappeared around the corner with her coffee in one hand and her signature walk — unbothered, steady, quietly intimidating — cutting across the asphalt.

“She’s solid,” he said finally. “One of the sharpest cops I’ve worked with in a long time.”

Lopez raised her brows. “That sounded suspiciously like a compliment.”

“It was,” Tim said flatly. Then, reluctantly, he added, “But she’s got a few… quirks.”

“Oh, I love quirks,” Lopez said with a grin. “Shoot.”

Tim shifted his weight slightly, arms folded across his chest. “She’s got a short fuse. Controlled — mostly — but if someone’s being an idiot or doing something reckless, she doesn’t always hold back.”

Lopez nodded. “Noted.”

“She also takes too many risks,” Tim continued. “Not the adrenaline-junkie kind — more like… if she sees someone in danger, she doesn’t hesitate. Even if it puts her in the line of fire.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Bishop murmured with a look toward Bradford.

Tim ignored it.

“She’s got instincts like a detective who’s worked twice her years,” he added. “Cuts through lies like nothing, picks up on details most people miss. But…”

“But?” Lopez prompted.

Tim hesitated.

“She shuts down sometimes,” he admitted, voice lower now. “Just… goes quiet. You’ll be mid-shift, everything fine, then something will hit her — a call, a suspect, a phrase — and she’ll go radio-silent. Detached.”

Yates glanced over. “Trauma?”

“Definitely,” Tim said. “What kind, I don’t know. She doesn’t talk about it. Not to me.”

Lopez tilted her head thoughtfully. “So she internalises. Pushes through. Bottles it up.”

“Exactly.”

Bishop crossed her arms. “And yet you still say she’s solid?”

Tim looked at her, voice even. “She is. She doesn’t let it get in the way of the work. But you’ll see it if you’re paying attention. She’s not a mess — she’s just carrying something big. And she’s good at hiding it until it gets too heavy.”

Lopez nodded, taking all of it in with a quiet seriousness.

“She’s one of the best partners I’ve ever had,” Tim added after a pause. “But she doesn’t want people to know that she still bleeds.”

The group was quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them like heat.

Yates finally broke the silence with a grunt. “I’ve got Nolan. He’s probably already offering to pay for lunch.”

Bishop smirked. “Chen’s practically allergic to talking about herself. This should be fun.”

Lopez took one last sip of her coffee, then dropped the cup into a nearby bin.

“Well,” she said, stretching her shoulders, “sounds like it’s going to be an interesting day.”

Tim offered a dry smirk. “Just keep your seatbelt fastened.”

Lopez glanced over at him as she headed toward her cruiser. “Don’t worry. I’ve been waiting for this ride for a while.”

As the others dispersed, Tim lingered for a beat longer, eyes following the direction Dylan had walked.

He wouldn’t say it aloud.

But part of him hated that someone else was riding with her today.

Not because he didn’t trust Lopez.

But because he did.

The cruiser rolled down a sleepy stretch of side street near Echo Park, warm sun filtering through the windshield, the usual city noise quieted by a rare pocket of calm.

Angela Lopez gripped the wheel with one hand, trying very hard to look casual — and failing. The second she’d been assigned to ride with Detective Dylan Jenkins, she’d been a mixture of giddy, focused, and slightly terrified. Dylan wasn’t just sharp — she was magnetic. The kind of cop whose silence made people talk, whose gaze could unearth things buried years deep.

Angela wanted to learn. Desperately.

And Dylan?

Dylan was the kind of person who didn’t give anything away for free.

Which is why Lopez had parked in the shade, killed the engine, and said — casually, but very much on purpose — “Figured now’s a good time for the whole ‘tell me something personal’ thing Grey’s making us do.”

Dylan, in the passenger seat, raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re really following through with that?”

“Absolutely,” Lopez said, turning to face her fully. “You’ve got layers, Jenkins. And I want to know what’s underneath.”

Dylan gave a soft snort and looked out the window. “You’re too eager.”

“I’m ambitious,” Lopez corrected. “There’s a difference.”

Dylan didn’t respond immediately. She seemed to weigh the silence, like she was deciding whether to fill it or let it stretch.

“You know what, let’s just get this over with.” Then she said, very quietly: “I had a younger brother.”

Angela’s smile faded slightly, caught off guard by the abrupt sincerity in her voice. “Yeah?”

“Rio,” Dylan continued. “He was… a mess. Charming, funny, but always in trouble. Drugs, theft, fights — you name it.”

Lopez stayed quiet, sensing the shift.

Dylan’s voice was calm. Controlled. But there was something just beneath it — like she was walking across glass, barefoot.

“I was more of a parent than a sister. Our dad was a drunk, high more often than not. Mum never cared enough to ask where we were, let alone what we were doing. So I took care of him. Cooked, cleaned, covered for him. Tried to keep him on the rails.”

Angela frowned, already feeling the tightening in her chest. “That’s a lot for a kid.”

Dylan nodded slowly. “When I joined the Met, started working my way toward detective, I got tunnel vision. Thought if I made it — if I became someone — I could pull him out of it all. But I stopped watching. He started acting off. Secretive. Jumpier. I chalked it up to immaturity.”

She went quiet for a beat.

Then said, so softly it nearly disappeared: “One day, I was on shift. Got called to a scene. Anonymous tip. Body dumped in an alley behind a kebab shop in Camden. Male. Early twenties. Gunshot to the chest.”

Angela didn’t move.

Dylan stared straight ahead, eyes locked on something far away. “It was Rio.”

The air in the cruiser went still.

“I was the one who unzipped the bag,” Dylan said. “Didn’t even realise what I was looking at until I saw the tattoo on his collarbone. I still see it. Every single day.”

Lopez’s throat tightened. “Dylan…”

“I should’ve done more. Should’ve pushed harder. Should’ve seen it coming.” Her fingers tapped once on her thigh. “That guilt? It doesn’t fade. It just shifts. Changes shape. But it never leaves.”

Angela took a slow breath, grounding herself. “You were a kid trying to carry two lives. And then you were a woman trying to fix something no one trained you for. That’s not your fault.”

Dylan finally looked at her. “Tell that to the part of me that sees his face every time I look in a mirror.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was full. Real.

Angela, moved but composed, reached into the console, pulled out a granola bar, and handed it over like it was a peace offering.

Dylan blinked at it. “What’s this?”

“Something to chew on instead of your guilt,” Lopez said simply. “Also, you skipped breakfast. I saw you.”

Dylan let out a surprised huff of laughter. The smallest, briefest smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re relentless,” she muttered.

Angela grinned. “Ambitious. We went over this.”

They sat for another quiet moment, the engine off, the city moving around them like distant waves.

And for the first time since the shift started, Dylan felt like she wasn’t just being studied — she was seen.

The cruiser had been rolling again for about ten minutes, but the earlier conversation hung in the air like dust — soft, but ever-present.

Angela Lopez hadn’t stopped thinking about Rio. About the way Dylan’s voice had shifted when she said his name. About the quiet resilience behind the guilt that she wore like armour. Dylan had cracked open something real and painful, and somehow she hadn’t done it for sympathy — she’d done it like it was nothing more than breathing.

Angela was still in awe.

Which was exactly why she was caught off guard when Dylan said, casually:

“Alright, your turn.”

Angela blinked. “My turn?”

“Grey’s little challenge?” Dylan said, glancing at her with a hint of a smirk. “You got my tragic backstory. Time to cough up yours.”

Angela tried to laugh it off. “Come on, I don’t have anything near as heavy as that.”

Dylan didn’t look away. “Didn’t say it had to match. Just said it had to matter.”

Lopez hesitated. Her hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, knuckles flexing as she stared straight ahead. The light turned red, and the cruiser rolled to a gentle stop.

She exhaled slowly, thinking. Then, finally:

“I wasn’t supposed to make it this far.”

Dylan turned toward her, intrigued.

Angela kept her eyes on the road. “Not that I wasn’t capable. But where I’m from, people like me — young, brown, working-class — we don’t get handed a damn thing. My older brother? In prison. My cousin? Dead at twenty-two. My mom worked three jobs and still couldn’t keep the lights on sometimes. Every teacher I ever had told me I was ‘spirited’ — which is just code for ‘you’re gonna burn out or blow up.’”

Dylan listened in silence, her gaze steady, but not pressing.

Angela’s voice dropped slightly. “I learned how to fight young. Not physically, just… push back. Speak up. Out-talk, out-work, out-smart everyone around me. I told myself I’d get out. Become something.”

“And you did,” Dylan said quietly.

“Not yet,” Angela replied, her smile faint but tight. “Detective’s still the goal. Getting the badge, cracking the cases, putting my name on something that matters.”

She paused again.

“But sometimes… I still feel like that girl from Boyle Heights. The one who got overlooked. Like at any minute, someone’s gonna realise I’m faking it.”

Dylan was quiet for a long beat.

Then, with a small smile: “Imposter syndrome.”

Angela nodded. “Yeah.”

Dylan leaned her head back against the seat, watching the world move past the window. “You’re not faking it. You’re earning it. Every damn day.”

Angela glanced at her, surprised.

“You’re sharp,” Dylan continued. “You lead with your instincts, but you’re not reckless. You want to learn, but you don’t beg. You ask. Direct. Respectful. And you listen. Not many people do that.”

Angela’s chest tightened slightly — not from discomfort, but from something deeper. Recognition. The rare feeling of being seen and understood without having to scream for it.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”

Dylan didn’t make a big deal of it. Just gave her a slow nod.

And just like that, something unspoken fell into place between them.

Not rivalry.

Not hierarchy.

But mutual respect. The kind that comes before a real friendship.

The rest of the shift passed in a comfortable rhythm — answering calls, sharing dry humour, working like they’d been doing it for years.

And as they drove back to the precinct with the city dipped in gold from the setting sun, Angela looked over at Dylan and said, half-smirking:

“You ever think about transferring to training officer? You’d make a pretty great mentor.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You saying I’m old?”

“I’m saying I’m learning more from you in one shift than I have from some people in six months.”

Dylan scoffed. “Don’t get sentimental. It doesn’t suit you.”

Angela just smiled wider. “Too late.”

And this time, when Dylan smiled back, it wasn’t guarded or small.

It was genuine.

The beginning of something solid.

The warehouse sat low and wide in the fading light, its corrugated steel walls already rusting at the seams. It looked forgotten, tucked between a scrapyard and a storage yard, but the intelligence was solid — it was a front. A gun runner had been operating from the inside, moving modified rifles and pistols through the city like clockwork.

Tim Bradford stood just outside the perimeter fence, his vest heavy over his chest, one hand resting on the grip of his service weapon. Jackson West stood beside him, less steady, shifting from foot to foot like he couldn’t quite settle his nerves.

Tim gave him a glance. “You good?”

Jackson nodded, but it was the kind of nod that came too fast — automatic. Not rooted in confidence. His eyes were wide, scanning everything too quickly.

Tim noted it. Tucked it away.

They moved in with two other units, taking different access points around the back of the warehouse. The tension hung thick in the air — that razor edge before the breach, when anything could go wrong and usually did.

Tim signalled.

They stepped through the side door into shadow and must.

Then came the shout.

“LAPD! Show me your hands!”

The response was immediate — the pop of gunfire cracked through the air like a whip, loud and disorienting in the tight space.

And that was when it happened.

Jackson froze.

He dropped to his knees behind a steel crate, arms over his head, his entire body trembling with the sudden crash of adrenaline. His gun hung useless at his side. Breath ragged. Eyes locked on nothing, like he’d been transported somewhere else entirely.

Tim barely had time to process it — diving behind a forklift, returning fire with precision. One suspect went down. Another bolted through a side door, and the sound of boots echoed through the far corridor.

Once the gunfire stopped, everything went still.

Except Jackson.

Still crouched. Still shaking.

Tim’s heart thundered in his chest — part residual adrenaline, part something heavier.

He holstered his weapon and crossed the floor, boots crunching over spent casings and shattered glass. He crouched down beside Jackson, his voice low but firm.

“West.”

No response.

“Jackson. Look at me.”

Jackson finally did — and his eyes were glassy, terror swimming just beneath the surface.

Tim’s gut twisted.

This wasn’t just rookie nerves. This was real fear. The kind that locked the body down and cut off instinct. The kind that, in the wrong moment, could get someone killed.

Tim had seen it before. Hell, he’d seen it in himself once — long ago.

He helped Jackson to his feet slowly. The kid didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. His silence said everything.

Later, once the scene was cleared and backup had taken over, Tim stood near the cruiser, arms folded, watching Jackson sit quietly in the passenger seat, staring out at the pavement with haunted eyes.

Tim had seen rookies break before. It came with the job. But this moment, this bust — it brought something else back to the surface.

Dylan.

That gunfight. The blood. The noise.

The way she’d run to him — even as she bled.

The way she stayed focused, stayed sharp, and dragged him out with one arm and zero hesitation.

He’d almost died that day.

But she hadn’t frozen.

She hadn’t flinched.

She’d acted.

She’d saved him.

And now, watching Jackson crumble under the same kind of pressure, Tim felt that truth dig deeper than before:

He was fucking lucky.

Lucky Dylan had been the one with him that day.

Lucky she hadn’t second-guessed herself.

Lucky that, even carrying her own trauma, she still ran toward the danger, not from it.

Jackson wasn’t ready.

He might never be.

And Tim?

Tim realised, for the first time in weeks, just how rare it was to have someone like Dylan at your side when everything went to hell.

The lunch crowd at the burger van buzzed with casual energy — the clatter of boots, the scent of grease in the air, and the familiar sound of laughter bouncing off brick walls. Officers gathered in loose circles, leaning against cruisers, paper-wrapped burgers in hand. It was one of those rare moments where the precinct exhaled.

Angela Lopez and Dylan Jenkins sat together at one of the dented folding tables beneath the truck’s faded yellow awning. Grease-stained napkins rustled in the soft breeze, and the sun baked gently on their shoulders as they picked at fries and sipped lukewarm sodas.

“I swear,” Lopez was saying through a grin, “if Bishop gives me one more lecture on ‘leading with empathy,’ I’m going to start handing out emotional support stickers during arrest reports.”

Dylan smirked. “And here I was thinking the point of training officers was to beat the empathy out of people.”

Lopez snorted. “You and Bradford are basically a ‘Caution: Emotional Repression’ poster.”

“Flattered,” Dylan replied dryly, but her eyes glinted with amusement.

That’s when they heard it — the unmistakable screech of tires, a black-and-white cruiser pulling in too fast, skidding slightly before jolting to a stop just beyond the picnic area.

Lopez and Dylan both looked up.

Tim Bradford climbed out of the vehicle. His vest hung open, jaw set, hands flexing at his sides like he was physically trying to contain something.

“Lopez!”

His voice snapped through the air like a gunshot — sharp, commanding, pissed.

Angela froze mid-reach for her drink. Her smile vanished.

She turned toward Dylan with an uneasy glance. “Give me a sec.”

Dylan nodded, slowly lowering her cup, but her eyes never left Tim. She knew that walk. That energy. Something had gone very wrong.

Lopez met him halfway, intercepting him just before he stormed past the van. She kept her voice low, cautious. “Tim. What’s going on?”

Bradford didn’t sugar-coat it. “Why the hell did you let me hit the street with a rookie who folds under fire?”

Lopez flinched — barely — but Dylan caught it from the table.

“What are you talking about?” Angela asked, her stomach tightening.

“Jackson froze.” Tim’s voice was rising now, louder than it needed to be, hot with frustration. “We hit that warehouse, called out ‘LAPD,’ and the second bullets started flying, he dropped behind cover, covered his damn head and did nothing. Didn’t draw his weapon. Didn’t return fire. Didn’t even radio. Just shut down.”

Lopez swallowed hard. “I—” She hesitated. “I knew he had an issue with gunfire. Early on. Back in the first few weeks. But we worked through it. I thought it was handled.”

Tim’s eyes flared. “You thought wrong.”

Angela’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t find the words.

“I could’ve been killed,” he snapped. “We could’ve all been killed. You think I don’t know rookies mess up? Of course they do. But freezing like that in an active fire zone? That’s not just a mistake — that’s a dangerous blind spot. And you should’ve flagged it.”

“I didn’t hide it,” Lopez said quietly. “We worked through it. I saw him improve. I thought he’d gotten past it.”

“Well, today proved he hasn’t.”

Across the lot, Dylan sat still, gaze sharp. She didn’t move, didn’t interrupt, but her entire posture had changed — alert now, spine straight, fingers slowly flexing around her soda cup.

She could hear every word. So could half the lot.

Lopez’s voice dropped, the weight of it heavy. “You think I’d knowingly put you at risk?”

Tim didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched. “No. But that doesn’t make this better.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Lopez promised, regret lining her voice now. “I’ll handle it.”

Tim nodded once, clipped, then turned and stalked back toward his cruiser, tension still radiating from his frame like heat from asphalt.

Angela stood there a moment longer, blinking against the sun, before making her way back to Dylan — slower now, each step heavier.

She dropped into the seat with a quiet exhale and rubbed her temples.

“I thought he was ready,” she muttered. “I really thought we fixed it.”

Dylan was silent for a beat. Then, gently: “Some cracks don’t show until the pressure’s real.”

Angela glanced at her. “Bradford’s right to be pissed.”

“He is,” Dylan said evenly. “But you’re not the first to believe in someone and get proven wrong.”

Angela’s eyes drifted toward the squad car where Tim sat alone behind the wheel, gripping the steering wheel like it might anchor him.

“You think he’s okay?” she asked.

Dylan looked at Tim, her voice unreadable. “No. But that’s not the question he’s ready to answer.”

The lot was starting to thin out.

The post-lunch lull had settled, officers drifting back to their cruisers or stretching out a few more minutes in the rare California shade. Dylan stood a few paces from the burger van, arms folded, eyes tracking the patrol units as they loaded back up.

She spotted Jackson West lingering beside the passenger side of his and Bradford’s shop, face tight, posture tense — clearly still rattled. He kept glancing toward the ground, like the pavement might offer him answers. Or forgiveness.

Dylan stepped away from the table and casually made her way over.

“West,” she said softly, keeping her voice level. “You alright?”

Jackson startled, looked up. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. Fine.”

“Liar,” Dylan replied calmly.

He gave a nervous chuckle, but didn’t deny it.

She leaned lightly against the car, looking ahead rather than at him. “I’ve seen that look before.”

Jackson frowned. “What look?”

“The one where you think one bad moment defines the rest of your life.”

Jackson’s throat bobbed. “It wasn’t just a moment. I froze. Completely.”

“And you think you’re the first?” she said, turning toward him now. “You think every single cop out there is born fearless? Invincible?”

“No,” Jackson murmured. “But Tim—Bradford—he’s not like that. He doesn’t tolerate fear.”

“No,” Dylan agreed. “He doesn’t. Because he’s scared of what it says about him. Not you.”

Before Jackson could respond, a familiar voice cut across the lot like a blade.

“Jenkins!”

Tim Bradford was marching toward them, face flushed, jaw locked.

Dylan sighed through her nose. “Here we go.”

Tim didn’t slow as he approached, his voice low but laced with fury. “Stay out of this.”

“I was talking to him,” Dylan replied, equally low. “Not you.”

“I don’t need you softening my rookie.”

Dylan pushed off the cruiser. “Maybe if you offered an ounce of actual support, he wouldn’t need someone else to do it.”

“Leave. Now.”

Dylan stared at him for a second, jaw tight, then turned to Jackson. “You’ll be alright. You’re not broken.”

Then she walked off without waiting for Tim’s reaction.

She found Lopez leaning against a light pole nearby, arms crossed, having clearly seen the whole thing.

“He’s in one of those moods,” Angela said.

Dylan scoffed. “He’s in one of those lives.”

Angela offered her a burger she hadn’t touched. “Peace offering?”

Dylan smirked. “Only if it comes with duct tape for his mouth.”

Later that day, the fluorescent lights of the locker room buzzed overhead as Tim changed out of his vest, shirt sticking to his skin after a long, tense shift.

The room was mostly empty.

Until Jackson walked in.

He hesitated by the row of lockers, then made his way over, standing a little too straight, his voice shaky but determined.

“Sir.”

Tim didn’t look up from re-strapping his sidearm. “What is it, West?”

“I just wanted to say… I know what happened today wasn’t acceptable. I know I screwed up. But I’m not giving up. I’m in this for the long haul. I just… I need some guidance.”

Tim finally looked up, meeting his eyes. Cold. Measured.

“I don’t do lost causes,” he said flatly.

Jackson flinched. “Sir—”

“You want a badge, prove you deserve it. Tomorrow, you show up and either act like a cop, or don’t bother showing up at all. Because if this happens again, it won’t just be your life on the line.”

Jackson’s face fell.

Then he nodded once, quietly. “Understood.”

He turned and left.

From behind a locker wall, Dylan stepped out.

She hadn’t meant to overhear — but she didn’t look sorry about it.

She folded her arms and stared at Tim, unimpressed. “That was brutal.”

Tim didn’t flinch. “It was honest.”

“It was unnecessary,” Dylan shot back. “You’re not training a robot. You’re training a person. One who just admitted he needs help.”

Tim snapped the locker shut, glaring. “He’s a cop. There’s no room for indecision when bullets are flying. You freeze, you die. Or worse, your partner dies.”

“I know that,” Dylan said, voice sharper now. “But he’s trying. You gave up on him before he even had a chance to process what happened.”

Tim’s voice dropped, low and cold. “I don’t have time to hand-hold people through panic. That’s not the job.”

“No,” Dylan said. “But it is the job to know when someone needs a hand and not a fist.”

The room crackled with tension.

Finally, Dylan shook her head, backing away. “No wonder you miss riding with me. I didn’t need to be perfect to get your respect — I just had to bleed.”

She turned and left.

Tim didn’t stop her.

But for the first time that day, the locker room felt colder.

And Bradford stood there, completely alone.

The morning sunlight was sharp and clear over Los Angeles, the city buzzing as it always did — too bright for how heavy some of its people felt. Jackson West had reported for duty on time, polished and proper as always, but a heaviness still clung to him. Not just the aftermath of freezing up during the bust, but the weight of disappointment — in himself, and maybe in how Bradford had looked at him afterward.

So when Tim Bradford told him they were taking a detour before patrol, Jackson expected another brutal reality check. Maybe a shooting range, or worse — a walk-through of the warehouse from the day before.

Instead, they pulled up outside a modest apartment block in Echo Park. Nothing fancy — rust along the railings, windows smudged with city grime, a building that had seen things.

Jackson followed Tim inside, silent and confused, until they stopped outside apartment 4B.

Tim knocked once. Twice.

The door opened a few inches — a cautious pair of eyes peeking out from behind the chain.

“Wallis. It’s me.”

The man behind the door blinked, then let out a breath of recognition and slowly unlatched the chain.

Wallis was short, round, pale-skinned with glasses too big for his face and a hoodie that looked two sizes too large. He shuffled back, waving them in. “Sorry. I don’t do well with… surprises.”

“You’re fine,” Tim said. “Thanks for letting us stop by.”

Jackson entered slowly, eyes scanning the small apartment. It was spotless but dark, the windows covered with blackout curtains. Video game consoles were neatly stacked beside a TV, and the faint smell of takeout hung in the air.

“Wallis,” Tim said, gesturing to Jackson, “this is Officer Jackson West. Jackson — this is Wallis. He’s a good man who went through something real. Something he’s still working through.”

Wallis gave a sheepish smile and a nervous wave. “Hi.”

Jackson returned it with a polite nod. “Nice to meet you.”

Tim glanced at Wallis, voice softening. “You mind telling him what happened?”

Wallis hesitated, then sat down on the edge of the couch. “Couple years ago, I got jumped. Hate crime. Three guys. They waited for me outside my building. Didn’t like that I… existed, I guess.”

Jackson blinked, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite.

“I had broken ribs. Lost a few teeth,” Wallis said, trying to keep it light. “Bradford found me. Made sure I got to the hospital. Checked in on me every week for months. Even when the case went cold.”

Tim stayed silent — arms crossed, eyes low. Letting the moment belong to Wallis.

Wallis continued. “Now? I can’t even open the door without picturing those guys again. I don’t go outside. Groceries, meds, work — it’s all delivery or remote. I live in a box of fear.”

Jackson’s expression shifted, something deeper unlocking behind his eyes. “I think I get that.”

Wallis looked up at him. “You froze, huh?”

Jackson nodded. “Yeah. In a shootout. And now I can’t stop thinking about how badly it could’ve gone. How I should’ve moved, should’ve drawn my weapon, done something.”

Wallis nodded. “Sounds like you’re thinking a lot about what you didn’t do. That’s the loop. It’ll kill you if you stay in it.”

“What do you do?”

Wallis gave a wry smile. “I do it anyway. Scared. Shaking. Sometimes crying. But I do one thing each week that scares me. It’s slow, and some days I fail. But I figure if I move through it just once, I’ve already won.”

Jackson absorbed that like a sponge. His shoulders weren’t quite so tense anymore.

“Thanks,” he said. “That… helps.”

Later that day, the squad gathered in the roll call room. Grey stood at the front with a whiteboard covered in intel and a projected map behind him.

“Alright,” Grey said, “we’ve got word of a sizable drug operation operating out of a residential house in Glassell Park. Mid-level supplier, running fentanyl-laced product through the East Side. We’re moving tonight. Tactically. Quiet. No heroics.”

The room rustled as officers shifted in their seats, nodding, focusing in.

Dylan Jenkins, sitting at the end of the second row, noticed something immediately.

Jackson West looked… different. Still reserved, still serious, but his shoulders weren’t hunched anymore. His jaw wasn’t clenched. His hands weren’t fidgeting in his lap.

She glanced sideways, toward Bradford, who sat like he always did — arms crossed, jaw locked, attention sharp.

But when she caught the faintest, most subtle flicker of Tim’s eyes drifting to Jackson — just for a second — it clicked.

After the briefing, as everyone stood to disperse, Dylan sidled up to Tim, her voice pitched just for him.

“You took him to see someone, didn’t you?”

Tim didn’t look at her. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smirked. “You big softie.”

That made him snap his eyes to hers, jaw tightening. “I am not a softie.”

“You kind of are.”

“I took him to someone who’s been through it,” Tim muttered. “Doesn’t mean I’m braiding his hair and journaling about my feelings.”

Dylan grinned. “No, you’re just personally helping scared rookies face their trauma head-on. With community support. Very un-Bradford of you.”

He glared at her. “You done?”

“Oh, not even close,” she replied, patting him on the arm. “But I’ll let you stew in your accidental emotional growth for now.”

She walked off, still smiling.

Tim stared after her.

Grumbling to himself.

But he didn’t deny it.

Not this time.

The briefing room had the kind of buzz that only came with high-risk operations — quiet but charged, like the air just before a thunderstorm.

Sergeant Grey stood at the front with a large printed layout of a multi-level car park, each floor marked with red ink and annotations in his tidy, efficient handwriting. A drone photo hovered behind him on the projector — grainy, but clear enough to show the layout. Five levels. Dozens of cars. At least six points of entry and exit.

And, according to intel, one active drug deal happening in the chaos of mid-afternoon foot traffic.

“This is not your standard takedown,” Grey began. “No front doors to kick in, no guaranteed sight lines. They’re using the location for exactly one reason — chaos. The suspects know they can disappear fast if we don’t move right.”

He tapped the map.

“We believe the exchange is going to happen here,” he said, indicating a blind corner on the third floor, tucked between two supporting columns and shielded by parked cars. “There’ll be lookouts posted on either side — that’s our first problem. The second? It’s public. Civilians everywhere. We need eyes. Fast reaction time. Zero gunplay unless absolutely necessary.”

The room was tense. Focused.

Grey began assigning positions.

“Chen and Bishop, northeast stairwell. Nolan, Yates — top deck. Lopez, south exit ramp. Bradford and Jenkins—” he pointed to the lower west stairwell, just adjacent to a pedestrian bridge.

Dylan arched a brow, glancing across the room at Tim. He gave her a single, silent nod.

Grey finished his rundown, making it clear: once the signal was given — a visual confirmation of the handoff — every unit would converge. Quick, quiet, and tight.

No heroics.

No missed beats.

Two hours later, the sun was still high and unforgiving, baking the concrete structure of the car park like an oven.

Tim Bradford and Dylan Jenkins sat together in the shop, parked one block away. Their position was locked in — they’d be on foot, moving through the side stairwell once the suspects entered the third floor. For now, they waited. Radio quiet. Phones dark. Everyone on standby.

Tim sat behind the wheel, shades on, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel in slow, measured beats.

Dylan had her vest half-unfastened, sipping on a bottle of warm water, eyes watching the pedestrian traffic beyond the windshield.

“Ever notice how stakeouts are always ninety percent boredom, ten percent near-death?” she muttered.

Tim didn’t look at her. “Try doing them with Nolan. Apparently he narrates the pigeons.”

Dylan smirked. “Bet you’d love that.”

“Absolutely not.”

There was a moment of quiet between them, not uncomfortable — just heavy with anticipation.

Dylan shifted slightly in her seat. “This one feels off.”

Tim glanced over. “How?”

“Too messy,” she said. “They’re not amateurs, but using a crowded car park in broad daylight? That’s erratic. Either they’re desperate, or they’re baiting.”

Tim gave a slow nod. “You think it’s a trap?”

“I think it’s a warning,” Dylan replied. “To someone. Maybe even us.”

Tim’s gaze lingered on her, thoughtful.

“Still,” she added, tightening the straps on her vest, “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Tim’s mouth twitched slightly. “You like the chaos too much.”

“Only when I know who’s watching my back,” Dylan said simply.

Tim didn’t respond at first. He just looked back out the windshield, jaw flexing once.

Then, quietly, he said, “I’ve got you.”

The words weren’t sentimental.

But they didn’t have to be.

They were true.

A static crackled on the radio — Grey’s voice, low and sharp:

“Units be advised — suspects have arrived. Silver SUV, third level, west end. Eyes on. Prepare to move.”

Tim clicked on the dash cam. Dylan pulled her gloves tighter.

The hum in the air snapped to attention.

“Let’s go,” Tim said.

And they stepped out of the car — two shadows moving into the fray, calm in the storm, partners in the fire.

The car park stank of oil and sunbaked concrete, the kind of staleness that stuck in your throat. From their shadowed position behind a row of cars on the third floor, Tim Bradford and Dylan Jenkins moved with silent precision, each footstep calculated, bodies low and tight.

The air buzzed with tension.

They had eyes on the suspects now — three men, one holding a duffel bag, the other two scanning the lot with too much frequency to be mistaken for anything but muscle. One leaned against a pillar, tapping his boot anxiously. The other kept a nervous hand close to the hem of his oversized hoodie.

Tim muttered into his comm, “Visual confirmed. Suspects are in position. Package in hand.”

Grey’s voice crackled back: “Standby for signal.”

But the suspects must have caught a shadow, a flicker, something out of place — because in a single heartbeat, everything went to hell.

“Cops!”

Then—

Gunfire.

The deafening crack of it echoed through the concrete cavern.

Tim immediately shoved Dylan down behind the engine block of a black SUV as bullets pinged off metal and shattered windshields.

“Third level! Shots fired, shots fired!” Tim shouted into his comm, drawing his weapon and returning two sharp, clean shots toward the far wall.

Dylan was already moving — rolling across to better cover, taking up position at the rear wheel of a parked sedan. Her breaths came fast, shallow, but her grip was steady. Her eyes flicked to Tim’s position, checking on him.

And he was checking on her just as frequently.

Neither of them said it, but the fear was there — not for themselves, but for each other.

This was their first gunfight since the day they both bled into asphalt.

The last time, Dylan had dragged Tim out while bleeding herself.

The last time, Tim had nearly died.

That memory clung to both of them, silent and heavy.

Suddenly — movement.

One of the suspects broke from cover, sprinting across the open space toward the stairwell exit. Dylan pivoted sharply, gun raised, tracking him—

—and a second suspect turned and fired.

At her.

CRACK.

The bullet whizzed past her face — so close it clipped the edge of her vest strap. She threw herself behind a concrete pillar, her back slamming into it with a grunt.

“Dylan!” Tim’s voice sliced through the chaos, panicked, raw.

He lit up the shooter with three controlled bursts — two to the shoulder, one to the leg. The man went down hard, screaming.

Backup swarmed seconds later, a flood of officers closing in from every stairwell, guns raised, shouting commands. Suspects were cuffed, weapons kicked across concrete. The air reeked of smoke, rubber, and adrenaline.

And through it all, Tim was already moving toward her.

“Dylan—Dylan, talk to me.”

“I’m good,” she said hoarsely, pushing up from her cover, but he was already there — hands on her, pulling her behind another car, shielding her like the danger wasn’t already over.

She blinked, startled. “Tim, I’m fine—”

He didn’t listen.

His hands moved to her vest, checking her sides, her back, his fingers shaking slightly as he searched for blood.

“Take it off,” he muttered.

“I’m—”

“Take. It. Off.”

His voice was low, sharp, almost desperate.

So she did.

He yanked the vest off and ran his hands along her shirt, brushing her shoulder, ribs, waist — and then finally stopped. His hand lingered just above her stomach, pressing lightly.

Nothing.

No blood.

She placed her hand over his, stilling him.

“I’m okay,” she said, eyes steady on his.

His chest rose and fell like he couldn’t believe it yet — like he was waiting for the red to bloom somewhere anyway.

She softened. “You okay?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I just— it was close. Too close.”

Their hands were still touching. Her vest lay between them, forgotten on the ground.

Something passed between them then. Not just the rush of post-gunfight adrenaline. It was quieter. Heavier. Unspoken.

A kind of care that didn’t fit in their usual back-and-forth. Something unfamiliar, yet impossible to ignore.

Dylan was the first to pull back, sliding her vest back on and tightening the straps herself.

“You’re a menace when you go into protective mode,” she muttered.

Tim straightened, clearing his throat. “You almost got shot. Again.”

“And you looked like you were about to rip someone’s throat out with your bare hands.”

He shrugged. “Just part of the job.”

But neither of them believed that.

They didn’t say what it really was:

It was fear.

It was protectiveness.

It was something brewing that neither of them had language for.

And neither of them dared to name it.

Not yet.

The locker room was quiet, the day winding down, the adrenaline from the bust slowly giving way to exhaustion. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting pale reflections on the tiled floor. Most officers had already cleared out, heading home or to paperwork — but Dylan Jenkins sat on the edge of the bench, rolling her shoulder gingerly, trying to hide the grimace she didn’t want anyone to see.

Except Tim Bradford wasn’t just anyone.

He walked in without a word, a first aid kit tucked under one arm, a bottle of water in the other. His vest was half undone, shirt untucked, a line of sweat clinging to his jaw from the chaos of the day. But his eyes were on her.

She smirked. “Let me guess. Florence Nightingale routine?”

“I’d say ‘patching up my rookie,’ but you’d probably bite my hand.”

Dylan tilted her head. “Tempting.”

Still, she didn’t protest when he dropped the kit beside her and knelt slightly to her side, fingers tugging at the strap of her vest to pull it down and assess the bruising near her collarbone. The bullet had missed, but just barely — it had clipped her vest, grazed the edge of her skin, close enough to leave a wicked bruise already blooming beneath the fabric.

Tim’s hands were steady — at first. But then his fingers stilled.

Just below the bruise, a sliver of skin was visible — a fresh, pink scar, still healing. A reminder of the last time they’d been under fire.

The day they both got shot.

Only difference was… Dylan didn’t stop for herself that day.

She’d bled through her shirt, dragging him to cover, patching him up while ignoring her own wound.

Tim stared at the scar. The way it stretched just beneath the bruise, fresh but closed. Clean, but not forgotten.

His jaw tightened.

He wasn’t touching it, but he didn’t need to. The image alone sparked a flash of memory:

—her face pale, focused, bleeding and still firing rounds—

—her hand pressed to his hip wound, voice urgent in his ear—

—“I’ve got you, stay with me”—

—blood on her shirt, her hands, her eyes locked on his, even when her own body was failing—

“Tim?”

Her voice broke through the spiral.

He blinked, pulling his hand back, eyes flicking up to hers. She was watching him now — not confused, just quiet. Knowing.

He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

But she knew what he’d seen.

And she knew what it meant.

Before anything more could pass between them, the locker room door burst open.

“Aww, come on!” Angela Lopez strolled in, peeling off her gloves and grinning wide. “I knew it. I knew I’d walk in on some weirdly charged moment.”

Dylan rolled her eyes and pulled her vest the rest of the way off. “It’s not charged. He’s just overdramatic.”

Tim stood, trying to shake off the look in his eyes. “You were almost shot. Again.”

“And yet I wasn’t. You’re welcome.”

Angela raised an eyebrow, looking between them. “Well, whatever’s happening here, I’m glad you’re both still in one piece.”She walked over to Dylan, softer now. “Hey. Just wanted to say thanks. For today. For the backup. For the calm-in-the-storm thing you do so well.”

Dylan smirked. “You’re welcome. You’re not terrible either.”

Angela grinned. “I think we’re gonna get on really well.”

Dylan gave her a look. “We already do.”

Lopez patted her on the good shoulder, then turned to Bradford. “Don’t let her bully you too much, okay?”

Tim grunted. “She can try.”

Angela left with a wink, disappearing down the hallway, leaving a heavy silence behind.

Dylan glanced over at Tim as she started to strap her vest back on.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her scar.

“You alright?” she asked, voice low.

He nodded once. “Yeah. Just… saw something I should’ve noticed sooner.”

She paused. Then added, gently, “It wasn’t your fault.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t answer.

Instead, he bent down, zipped the first aid kit shut, and muttered, “Let’s get out of here.”

But as they walked toward the door side by side, his hand brushed hers — barely there, feather-light.

She didn’t move away.

And neither of them said a word about it.

DYLAN JENKINS X TIM BRADFORD SERIES

next episode

[uptoolateart]

Here's a whole bunch of initial thoughts I have after watching the London Special.

Time Travel

Speaking as someone who writes way too many stories involving time travel...there were a lot of holes in this special. Also, I appreciate that it's been 15 months since the S5 finale aired, and they probably wanted to remind us (and especially children) of the key moments...but some scene repetition felt like it was just there to pad out the episode length. But I'm gonna shrug all that off because of everything else this special did.

Lies, Lies and More Lies

I've not been quiet about how angry I was over Ladybug lying to Adrien and keeping vital secrets, in that S5 finale. I'm so glad to see that this special addressed that stuff. By the end, we see that both heroes are keeping secrets. Cat's identity has become more pertinent than never, and she has no idea.

Going Too Far

In their final conversation, Ladybug told Cat she worried she might have gone 'too far' this time. Throughout S5, we were repeatedly told no one has ever been able to handle unifying the miraculous like Marinette can. We also watched her change dramatically over that season. By the S5 finale, I felt like she'd become overpowered. In this special, I think she acknowledged that. Maybe she handed out the other miraculous because she realised she was in danger of becoming another Gabriel, e.g. making decisions about what's right for Adrien, etc.

Did She Make the Right Decision?

With no one else to turn to, Marinette asks Plagg and Tikki if she made the right decision. They don't tell her she's wrong, but they also seem very undecided. She also asks Bunnyx, who tells her that both paths - telling or not telling Adrien the truth - will lead to both happy and sad moments. This warns us that hard times are on their way. She wants to 'protect Adrien', but she can't. She can't keep him from pain. seems to suggest that Marinette's choice to keep the truth from him is going to lead to some hard times.

Kagami

Kagami intimated that she disagreed with Marinette's decision. When she comforted Adrien in the white room and told Bug Noire to go...that really hit me. There is so much going on there. Transformed, Marinette can't comfort Adrien. In fact, she's just hurt him, and Kagami is the only one in that scene able to help him pick up the pieces. Not just that, but Kagami can relate. Remember her name means 'mirror'. She's now in the position Adrien could be in, if he knew the truth. She's the one trying to come to terms with the truth about her parent. She's the one dealing with the knowledge that she's a sentibeing. She is an example of Adrien's alternate path. When she tells Bug Noire that she's letting her love for Adrien blind her...Kagami is speaking personally - as someone who can put herself in Adrien's shoes in a way Marinette just can't.

If I Could Turn Back Time

When Chrono Bug got that black cat calendar as a lucky charm, she must have known it meant Cat Noir was somehow the solution. But she ignored it. I think her emotions regarding Adrien blinded her from understanding what the universe was trying to tell her.

She and Bunnyx spent much of the episode trying to determine the crucial moment when things started spinning out of control - the moment they needed to change. Marinette focused on the revelation of her identity, which I'm sure was vital. BUT...the elephant in the room was the moment she chose to lie to Adrien. Standing in that time burrow, she had a chance to change the story she told him and undo everything that's on its way. Surely that cat calendar was hinting at this.

Kitten

I think it's telling that the cat on the calendar was a kitten. It felt like the universe was telling her there's something she isn't seeing in Cat - that he's more fragile and in need of nurturing than she acknowledges. When she sees him at the end, and he tells her he has his own awful secret - when he cries over it - she should be questioning why he's that eaten up about missing that final battle. What's his secret? Why's he so devastated? But she's too wrapped up in her own conundrum. Like in Cat Blanc, she's not 'listening'. For me, the most painful moment was when he tried to reassure her that things would be okay - now it'll be 'you and me again, just like old times'. She hasn't yet told him there's actually a huge team now. But they both must understand that the old times are well and truly gone.

The Truth Is Out There

We're now waiting for yet another reveal. Adrien and Marinette still have to find out they're Cat and Ladybug - but Adrien also has to find out the truth about his father. This special hammered it all in so hard that it's Chekhov's gun waiting to go off. What I wonder is if the writers had this angle in mind all along, or if they did this after they saw the fan reaction to that S5 finale. I suspect it's a bit of the latter, particularly because they also had Bunnyx explain that Marinette's reaction to Gabriel in the S5 finale was her getting the 'proof' that he was Monarch. Her reaction was one of many things we all questioned after that episode first aired, so I think the writers were trying to 'fix' things with this special. And I'm fine with that. I'm pleased that they're listening and not just moving on from this stuff / trying to sell it to us that lying to someone is 'the right thing to do'.

The Wild Card

At the end of S5, I thought it was clear that Lila had worked out Ladybug's identity. I assumed S6 would involve some vendetta against Marinette. This special demonstrated that would make things too easy, so they levelled the playing field. Lila doesn't know Ladybug's identity. But she does know Monarch was Gabriel. I think it's inevitable that at some point (probably not for ages, because the writers will want to string us along in suspense), she'll tell Adrien the truth about his father.

Cat Blanc

I think 'Cat Blanc', and Adrien's vision in the white room, were foreshadowing. In this special, we saw how angry Adrien was at Bug Noire when she told her story. He demanded to know why she couldn't save Gabriel. He seemed to have forgiven her by the end, but when he learns the truth, he's going to feel so betrayed. And when he breaks down...watch out, moon.

The Inevitable Break-Up

I think it's inevitable that Adrinette will break up...but only temporarily. When it all blows up, it could be the necessary turning point we've been waiting for, where they finally get on equal footing - where their relationship is based on honesty and total mutual respect.

Conclusion

Buckle up, guys. We're in for a bumpy ride - but I remain optimistic. After 15 crazy months, I'm finally no longer angry about the S5 finale.

[xoluvx]

love potion; b.eilish

smut

it was only supposed to be a silly love position. one conjured from an old spell book that'd been collecting dust on your bookshelf. it'd been collecting dust for a reason. you'd vowed to never touch it. to never look at it, but after hundreds of pleas from your best friend.. she had managed to convince you. how else could she get the boy that she so desperately loved to love her back? so you did the one thing you promised yourself to never do again .. magic.

you crafted the position with little practice. still rusty from years of relinquishing all control of your magical abilities. the final thing sat on the counter.. little did you know that your roommate, unbeknownst to you, would be the one to chug that love position like it was lemonade and later lock eyes with you setting a series of events in motion that you had not prepared for.

"how do you feel?" you were concerned and rightfully so. it'd been so long since you attempted to do magic that you weren't sure if the potion even worked. that something you had warned your best friend about and she'd assured you she'd happily take that risk. you, on the other hand, were not prepared to take that risk .. especially not with your roommate out of all people. the mysterious blue eyed girl that just so happened to be in desperate need of a roommate. the girl who constantly locked herself in her room, the only sounds leaking through the cracks being the beautiful melodies she created.

now she was standing closer than she ever had before. she was breathing your air. she was searching your face. you weren't sure for what. you weren't sure if she was trying to memorize the curves and dips of your face or if she was confused as to why you were so concerned for her all of a sudden.

when she leaned in you froze. you felt like a deer caught in headlights. you felt your heart beating in your throat. she smelt so good. you bet she tasted even better. she was pushing herself off the counter. the potion working almost instantly or was she just fucking with you? oh my god. your head was spinning. she was so close you could quite literally feel the sparks still twinkling with magic. you were breathing heavy. your hands cupping your thighs then closing into fists unsure of what to do with yourself as she leaned in. as her nose brushed yours. as her hands touched your hips and lips ghosted over yours.

it'd be rude to deprive her of this when you were the reason for it. the position would wear off. that's how it always worked. that's why that book had never left your bookshelf. your magic never lasted. it was always a fluke .. so then what was the harm in wrapping your arms around her shoulders and pressing your body against hers? what was the harm in your lips clashing together in a desperate kiss?

you hadn't uttered more than a few sentences the entire time you lived together and now her tongue was down your throat and her hands were on your ass and you were breathing so heavily as she flipped your bodies until your back hit the counter. she was strong. she was so fucking strong and you wondered how many things you didn't know about her and how many things you wanted to learn as she lifted your body sitting you on the counter.

you hummed leaning down to reconnect your lips. she wedged herself between your legs. hands burning on your thighs as they slid under your shorts. you were leaning down holding her face as you kissed so desperately it was like neither of you had kissed anyone in months. for you this was totally a reality. for her you wished it was also true because you just felt so special right now. even if it was the magic was working .. well .. it's magic.

her fingers tapped along your skin until they were dangerously close to your underwear. the action so intimate it scared you. even if you really wanted this. it'd been so long since you'd been touched like this, but you had to remind yourself this wasn't real. she was under a spell. your spell. it was your spell and that was enough to convince you to let her hand slid your underwear to the side. fingers gliding between your folds. you tossed your head back leaning into her touch. your fingers tugging at her hair as her mouth cupped your nipple over your tank top. teeth sinking into your sensitive bud.

the temperature in that apartment was unbearable. quickly spiking as your bodies found the perfect rhythm. fingers pumping. hips swaying. lips desperate on your sweaty skin. you tried holding on to something more than just her hair as she lips brushed down your torso until her tongue replaced her fingers. rotating on your clit. lips suctioning. tongue flicking. nose pressing on your sensitive core as she ate you alive. the magic sparked on her tongue as stars flashed behind your lids.

your breathing was heavy as you chanted her name like an incantation. hoping to keep it like this. longing to know what else she could do with her tongue. with her fingers. with her lips. you just knew her strap was big. oh my god.. what were you thinking? you tugged on her hair pulling her head up. her eyes wild and hungry matching your own desperate gaze. your chests moved in sync heavily breathing and gasping for air until your lips were touching again.

you moaned in her mouth tasting yourself on her tongue as she gripped your waist practically leaning over the counter pushing you back. you held your weight with one arm as you gripped her face and your tongues sloppily touched. you explored every inch of each other's mouths as she moved her body grinding on you. pinning you on that counter like she'd been starved and you were her first and only meal.

in a moanful agreement you stumbled to her room. in any other situation, you would've been fascinated and nosy but you were too busy undressing each other for you to notice any of your surroundings. too busy shoving your tongue down her throat. the only thing you noticed was that yes, her strap was massive and you swallowed every last inch and she worked it like a pro and you really wondered why you'd never approached her before and if you knew that your stupid magic would've been the reason for all this, you would've pulled that spell book out sooner because you'd never in your life felt such pleasure. it was overbearing and blinding.

she was thrusting into you so gloriously. touching you so sweetly. moaning in your ear. gripping your waist. kissing your neck. this.. this was magic. it lasted for what seemed hours. days even. you didn't have your phone. she didn't have a clock. you'd lost track of time tangled in her sheets. no talking. just heavy breathing and sighs and whimpers and moans and rustling sheets and skin slapping and sparks.

until you couldn't feel your bodies. until you were one cuddled so close you knew it'd physically hurt to separate. you were the first to go. with heavy eyes you slid off the bed too thirsty to stay next to her. just one glass of water and you'd be back in bed with her.

you dragged your feet along the floor, naked body navigating down the hall until you reached the fridge. you felt so weak. all energy drained from your body. you opened the fridge door. the light almost blinding as you shielding your face reaching for something that'd satisfy the snackish feeling in your tummy.

then you stopped in your tracks; hand shaking as you reached for the mason jar. you didn't have to closely examine it to know that it was the love potion. the synergy seeped through your fingertips. vibrations strong. indicating the presence of your magic.

she hadn't drank the potion and if she hadn't how could you explain the events that'd unraveled in the last few hours.. how could you explain the sudden shift in energy earlier that day? how could you explain the way her hands felt on your body and the selfish feeling of wanting them all over again? you couldn't possibly.

the only thing you could do was close the fridge. dump the potion down the drain and make your way back to her room. a room you wanted to grow familiar with. a room that held the most intimate parts of her and she'd let you in. no, she'd carried you in.

somehow she'd invited you in and you hadn't needed magic for it.. though you did create more than a few magical sparks on her bed.

diaween 2024 💜

[22ayla21]

I love ur works so much, the way u write them are so enjoyable ^^

cab I req phainon who tries so hard to court reader but ended up failing miserably (reader doesnt even notice) and just ended up blurting out a confession with the most inconvenient timing

Confession at the Most Inopportune Moment

Attempts to get her attention led to him confessing at the most inopportune moment.

Phainon was not one to give up, especially when it came to something important to him. It was one of the reasons his life had always been full of ambition and aspirations. He was never afraid to show determination, and now, when it came to the woman who had turned his whole perception of the world upside down, he had no choice but to try.

From the first day he saw her, he knew he couldn't just walk past. Her calmness, strength, and inner light drew him like a magnet. But, alas, she didn't notice him the way he wanted. She was unapproachable. Every glance, every word, every gesture with which he tried to attract her attention, elicited only indifference from her.

He tried to be mysterious, to draw her to himself, but her attention was like sand slipping through his fingers. Sometimes he caught her gaze by chance, but as soon as he took a step forward, she quickly turned away, immersed in her thoughts or conversations with others. He saw her disappear into the crowd, ignoring his existence, and every move of hers seemed to confirm that she didn't want his attention.

Every time they accidentally found themselves near each other, his heart beat faster, but she always remained calm, as if his presence didn't arouse the slightest interest in her. He tried to be clever, courteous, but her ignoring seemed to drain all his energy. She was elusive, and Phainon felt his patience running out.

Days turned into weeks, and he couldn't understand what exactly kept her at a distance. He tried to attract her attention with laughter, playful gestures, but each time he received only silence in response. Sometimes he began to doubt, maybe he was wrong? Maybe she really didn't notice him, or maybe he just wasn't interesting to her? These thoughts tormented him, but none of his efforts yielded results. He continued to hope that one day she would pay attention to him, that her heart would open before him.

He noticed how something special appeared in her eyes when she interacted with others, while he was like a shadow standing aside. It hurt him, and he didn't know how to find a way to awaken her interest. He tried to be perfect, but her cold, unchanging manner always remained unyielding. He burned himself out over these weeks and months, unable to admit that what really attracted him was not only her impeccable calmness, but also the icy barrier she erected around herself.

And then, one evening, when they were both alone and silence hung in the air, he couldn't hold back any longer. It was unbearable. Her ignoring, her invisibility to him—all of it stirred up a storm inside him. She was again occupied with some important matter, paying no attention to him.

He didn't think. He didn't know what to do. All the pain accumulated over months burst out, and he stepped forward without hesitation.

"I... I can't take it anymore, do you understand?" he said sharply, his voice full of emotions he had been hiding. She looked up, and her face, usually calm, softened for a moment, but immediately returned to its usual mask.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice devoid of curiosity or irritation. Only the usual indifference that seemed to leave no room for true emotions.

Phainon paused for a moment, realizing he couldn't pretend anymore. He saw her face, her eyes, and suddenly, unable to control his words, said what he had been holding inside.

"I can't just be a shadow in your life anymore. I love you. You... You're everything I've ever wanted. You make me forget everything when you're around, and I can't hide it anymore, even if you don't see me the way I see you. You're more important to me than I could have imagined, and I... I can't ignore it anymore."

He felt his heart freeze, and something heavy clenched inside him. He looked at her, expecting her to withdraw again. But that didn't happen.

Her eyes widened slightly. For a moment, she seemed confused. But it all passed like smoke. She sighed softly and shook her head.

"You chose the most inopportune moment for this confession, Phainon."

His face paled. He expected her to reject him, for her response to be as indifferent as ever. But her next gesture caught him off guard: she quietly approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I wasn't ignoring you, Phainon. I just..." her voice softened. "I was waiting for you to realize what you really want."

Only then did Phainon understand that his unconscious attraction to her was part of something much more important, something she had probably known for a long time, which he himself hadn't realized."

[zeezelweazel]

Could you write a smut story where r makes Leah squirt for the first time?

I think you are the only one that will do it justice. Just Leah being confused as to why she's feeling it so intensely and after being slightly embarrassed while r is obsessed w having made her squirt.

If not that's completely fine I just love the way you write. <333

Leah Williamson| Achievement|

______________________________________

I'm so honoured omg I hope I did this justice. This isn't really proof read so I hope there aren't any mistakes (special thanks to the anon that pointed out a mistake)

(It's hinted that reader plays for Man City but that doesn't affect the story whatsoever)

TW: strap on sex, oral, squirting (duh), edging, vibrators

____________________________________________________

Leah has been tormented the whole day.

It started in the morning when you woke up with the blonde still naked next to you, that you decided to wake her up by running your fingers through her slick folds. Leah was awake in an instant, her groggy voice already begging for you. You didn't plan to leave her hanging, you really didn't, but as soon as you started moving your fingers your phone rung and a very angry Alex Greenwood reminded you that training started 30 minutes ago.

Leah was left needy and very grumpy, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting like a child, only huffing in response after you kissed her goodbye. Training was alright, even if your skipper made you do three extra laps, but by the time you were home you were exhausted. Leah was still as horny as ever but she waited for you to come home and take care of her.

The moment you opened the door she was on you, placing messy kisses on your neck and jaw but she only received an apologetic smile as you told her that you'll head to bed after a quick shower. Leah knew better, so she didn't argue but you could tell she was frustrated.

When you hopped in the shower Leah sneaked into your special drawer and picked out a bullet vibrator that you guys have yet to use. Then she proped herself up on the bed and took her shorts and underwear off. She bit her lip when the lacy fabric stuck to her wet folds. She fumbled with the vibrator trying to find the button that turns it on. The moment the toy sparked to life Leah immediately put it over her throbbing clit and threw her head back with a loud moan.

Her moans were bouncing off the walls and unknowingly to your lover, you could very well hear the commotion from where you were standing in the hallway, with your hair dripping and your body covered in a towel. You entered the bedroom with a smirk and Leah looked at you, shocked eyes pooling with pleasure begging you to help her. Her hand stilled in between her parted legs, your eyes immediately being drawn to the wetness smeared on the inside of her thighs. Her pussy was greedily milking all the vibrations from the toy and you had to really fight with your urges not to pounce on her. You completely ignore Leah and all of her whines as you get ready for bed. Before you slip under the covers, right next to Leah, you manage to get a glimpse of the vibrator she's using. Your poor Leah, she's completely forgotten that the toy she's using can be controlled with an app that you have on your phone.

You let Leah work herself up, relishing in the way she was moaning your name, rolling on her side to be as close to you as possible. Then when you noticed how her voice became shaky and strained you opend the app and turned off the vibrator.

"Wha- no! What the fuck! How did it-"

Leah turned on her stomach screaming in frustration with her head buried in the pillow. She stayed there panting, thighs still twitching and shaking when you finally decided to give in. You chucked as you placed your phone on the bedside table and moved to run your fingers through Leah's blonde hair, cooing softly when she looked up at you with teary eyes.

"You want my help baby?"

Leah nodded her head quickly, laying on her back again and spreading her legs wide so you can move in between.

"Please- I need you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything!" Leah croaked out desperately. Your eyes run down her body and you contemplated dragging this out but in the end you couldn't fight the lust. You grabbed her thighs and immediately pushed your tongue against her dripping cunt. Leah moaned, high and loud as you continued moving your tongue. The taste of her on your tongue and the softness of her milky thighs on your hands was driving you crazy. You moaned against her core and the vibrations from your voice send a spark up her spine, her back arching off the bed.

"Trust me baby, I'll make you feel good."

"God, please! I'm close, don't stop!" Her hands had a tight grip on your hair as you kept building up her pleasure. Right before Leah was about to come an idea sparked on your head. Abruptly you pulled away from her throbbing heat. Leah sobbed in desperation when you backed off, her thighs were clenching as she brought down one of her own hands to finish the job. You grabbed her wrist to stop her, quietly shushing her when she fought your grip.

She reluctantly let you go and watched your every move as you went to grab the biggest strap you owned. Leah gulped and positioned herself comfortably on the pillows while waiting for you to come back to the bed. You didn't bother climbing up the bed, instead you reached for Leah's ankles and without a warning you dragged her down so her hips were on the bed while her legs were dangling on the edge of the bed.

Leah gasped when you grabbed her legs and pushed them all the way back so that her knees were almost by her ears. She blushed at how wet and exposed she felt, whining pathetically when she saw your eyes locked on her pussy. You lined up with her entrance and started pounding into her, setting up a brutal pace. The strap was hitting all the good spots and filling her up so good and Leah's hands fumbled with the bed sheets, desperate to hold on to something while she moaned and panted. Her voice was getting sore and her legs started to shake and you knew she was close. You brought your hand down to her clit and rubbed the sensitive bud. Leah almost screamed in pleasure as she came, transparent liquid gushing out and drenching the bed and the strap while her thighs shook. Leah's eyes shot open as she moved up on her elbows, watching with wide eyes while more of the liquid dripped out of her. Your hips were stilled in shock and Leah was flsuhed red in embarrassment. It almost felt like she just wet the bed.

"Fuck I... I'm sorry, I don't-"

Leah was interrupted when you pulled her in for a bruising kiss. Leah whined in your mouth when you rolled your hips, feeling your smirk before you pulled back. You run your hands up and down her sides, looking at her with an expression of admiration and bewilderment.

"Damn baby, I didn't know you could squirt."

Leah laughed nervously, still a little embarrassed from the prior events.

"Well neither did I."

You hummed and continued stroking her sides before grinning and pushing her down on the bed again. You leaned down and kissed the spot just below her ear before whispering.

"Let's see if I can make you do it again."

____________________________________________________

[angel-taser]

Praising Sukuna and he flips out | Sukuna x Cocky!Reader | Barely suggestive

Synopsis: You tease Sukuna ONCE and now he’s all flustered, so when you call him out on it he decides he wants to get you back!

A/N: I’ve been thinking about this scenario for DAYS-!!! DAYS I SAY! It’s probably very ooc but the idea is fun so enjoy! Sorry if it isnt the best, I was rushed and just writing whatever I thought of!

Content Warnings: Reader is cocky, Sukuna is cockier but gets put in his place, Flustered Sukuna, female reader, appearance of true form!sukuna with non canon physics at the end, Implied smut at the end, or at least smth spicy! Ooc sukuna probably

Word Count: 902

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~••••~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sukuna enjoyed toying around with curses before exorcising them. It gave his sadistic mind something to do when he didn’t feel like massacring the city. Yuji had switched with him because the brat didn’t have the energy to fend off the last few curses before help arrived, Sukuna wasn’t mad about that though.

He laughed as another curse died from his hands. “Oh this feeling is exhilarating! One more to go,” he said aloud, a grin pasted on his tattooed face.

“Oh really? Well thanks for doing the dirty work,” a voice said from behind him.

He whipped around confused as to who dared to interrupt him. It was you. You were a sorcerer at Jujutsu High, one of the assistant teachers. He heard Yuji talk about you a few times, about how good you were as a sorcerer. Sukuna couldn’t help but be intrigued by your presence.

“Eh?! What the hell woman I have it under control!” He snapped at her as she approached him, her smile unwavering.

“And you did such a good job,” she cooed. “But mama’s got it from here,” she added, patting Sukuna’s cheek before unsheathing her katana which was embedded with cursed energy.

Sukuna froze, his heart started pounding. What the hell? Why did he like that? His eyes narrowed at her as she watched her beat the final special grade curse that was left in the building. His face felt hot, he was sure it was almost as red as his eyes.

She looked back at Sukuna once she was done and couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Something the matter?” She teased, walking over to him. He stepped back.

“Back off woman! I don’t know what the hell happened but don’t let it get to your head!” He growled, turning away and walking down the hallway.

Y/N chuckled. “Well, the King of Curses has a praise kink? That’s interesting…” she mumbled to herself.

~~**~~

The next day, Y/N set out to find Yuji. Maybe he knew something about this.

“Hey Yuji! C’mere for a second!” She called out to him as he was training, a bright smile on her face.

He looked at her confused and jogged over to her. “Hey! What’s up?” He asked her, a smile on his face to match hers.

“Is Sukuna upset up there?” She asked, poking his forehead with a grin. Yuji’s eyes widened at the question.

“What?”

“You know, is he being all mopey? Last time I saw him he was practically a puddle on the floor, an angry one,” she said, standing up straight again.

Yuji scratched his chin thinking. “Actually, yeah he has, ever since I let him out again he’s been all grumbly, do you know why?” He asked her.

Y/N smiled wider. “No way! I was right!” She laughed, a hand on her head in disbelief. “I think the King of Curses doesn’t know how to handle a woman complimenting him,” she cooed with a chuckle.

Yuji’s eyes widened. “No way! Are you serious?!” He said in disbelief.

Y/N nodded. “Yep! I witnessed it first hand,” she sighed with a smile.

A mouth popped up on Yuji’s cheek. “You bitch! You didn’t do anything it just caught me off guard! Don’t let it get to your head!” Sukuna’s voice roared. This only made Y/N laugh.

“So defensive, I guess he really doesn’t like finding a weakness huh?” She hummed, poking Yuji’s cheek. Yuji covered his mouth holding back a chuckle.

Sukuna growled and chomped his teeth at Y/N. “You just wait, I’ll get you back!” He snapped at her.

“Get me back huh? We’ll see about that, have fun training Itadori!” She said waving at Yuji as she left.

“I’m gonna get her back,” Sukuna mumbled before retreating back into Yuji’s mind.

~~**~~

That night, Y/N was in her pajamas, laying in her bed scrolling through her phone. The events from today lingered in her mind. What did he mean he was gonna get her back?

There was a knock at the door. She groaned and got up, who the hell is awake at this hour?

She walked over and opened the door, her eyes widened when she was met with a tattooed chest, her eyes went up to meet the face of the man in her doorway. It was Sukuna, he has a mask that looked like it was made of wood on the one side of his face, a shit eating grin plastered on his lips. He had an extra set of arms under his shoulders.

“What the hell-“ Y/N mumbled. “Where’s Yuji-“

“The brat is fine, this is my OWN body,” he chuckled, forcing himself into her room. “You know…your little comment has been wracking my brain,” he hummed looking around her room.

Y/N watched as the large man looked around. “Really?” She gulped, her voice strained with weariness.

Sukuna nodded. “Oh yeah~ it got me thinking~”

“A-about what?” Y/N stuttered.

His ruby eyes met hers. “What kind of things make you do that?” He hummed, tilting his head.

Her eyes widened, taking a step back in shock. “Excuse me?” She coughed out. Two large hands grabbed her waist.

“What makes you tick~? We’re gonna find out~” he snickered, his two other hands finding the curves of her body.

He observed how she writhed and blushed under his touch, small whimpers leaving your mouth as she did.

“This is gonna be fun, pet~”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~••••~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I AM TOO SCARED TO WRITE SMUT BUT MAYBE IN THE FUTURE! But yeah I hope you enjoyyyyed~! Might rewrite it when I have more time and confidence lmao. Til next time!

Bye Pookies!💕

[ilikekidsshows]

Hi again, lololol. This is ask number 3

Was rewatching the Paris Special, forgot that alt!Marinette straight-up tried to use the wish to take our Marinette's place. She didn't hesitate, stole Claw Noir's miraculous as soon as she read about the wish in Marinette's diary (note: she also learned there's always a price to pay). The only reason it didn't work was because the Supreme interfered.

Obviously she's a "villain" version of our protag, so I'm not trying to necessarily say this reflects 1:1 on what our Marinette would do, but I still find it...compelling evidence. She's still the same person, the main difference between her and our Marinette is that she doesn't have a support network (as per her words: no kind mother, no best friend, no girlfriends, no supportive partner). So...put Marinette in a crappy enough situation, and precedent shows she'll go for it, potential consequences be damned (remember: she knows about the balance required by the wish/price to pay).

As for alt!Adrien...he's definitely on board with the idea of making the wish once he learns about it (though whether he knows about the price at this point is unclear). However, he gives up pretty quickly once our Adrien tells him someone else would have to lose their mother instead. Sure, Claw Noir doesn't really seem the type to care about collateral damage, as cataclysm-happy as he is. But the fact that he changes his mind after learning this? Gives up "the only thing [he wants]"? I can only conclude that even a villain!Adrien ultimately stops when he realizes the wish would cause another person pain (even if it meant he could alleviate his own). Baring complete character assassination, you cannot convince me Adrien would ever go all Hawk Moth

As it stands, alt!Marinette attempted the wish despite being aware of the consequences and only was stopped by a greater power. She later changes her mind because Marinette tells her to love herself and the world. Alt!Adrien changes his mind when he is given full context and learns the wish would harm someone else (and was encouraged to go out and make friends).

Ultimately Adrien and Marinette are both heroes/narratively the good guys, so I believe neither would actually go through with the wish. But if I had to chose, based on their respective personalities and precedent, my money's on Marinette.

(Also wasn't sure where to put this, but to clarify why immortality came up in someone else's ask, I did mention it briefly in my original ask, as a new flavor of the "Adrien can't live without Marinette/he'd use the wish" rhetoric. I didn't go into it at the time, but I was reacting to a poll I came across that was asking who would handle immortality without the other better. More people voted for Marinette, so I was feeling salty lololol. The true answer IMO is a secret third option, that both would heal. Immortality is...a long time)

---

Oh, I must have tunnel visioned over the immortality part of the ask. Tends to happen sometimes. But yeah, it's pretty much expected that the fandom thinks Marinette is the more resilient one between herself and Adrien because the writers are trying to get you to think like that despite all evidence to the contrary. Marinette can't make it past a single season without going through multiple emotional crises, while Adrien can just deal with anything done to him outside of literal mind control. In addition, not viewing Marinette as unforgivable for the gaslighting requires you to at least somewhat buy into the idea that Marinette's “good intentions” are an acceptance excuse, that shielding Adrien's supposed fragile mental state is important.

And, yeah, while I do think Marinette would have a harder time coping, she also has a well-established ability to get new members into her support network with ease. Marinette would find new people to lean on as she lost the previous ones, easily. It's what happened with the transition from Socquoline to Alya. Over half the cast is catering to her comfort. She’d be fine eventually, she’d just have a harder time getting there than Adrien.

The thing about the wish is, the writers are once again inconsistent and make the wish’s morality unclear. It was wrong for Shadybug and Claw Noir to want to make it, but Gabriel making a wish led to a happy utopian ending for season 5, and, like, I don't think the writers mean to undo it because our protagonist in the protagonist-centered morality show is happy as a clam. And, because of Marinette's Keeping Secrets Arc, the characters aren't discussing why Gabriel gets a free pass ro make a wish. Is it because he ultimately made a selfless wish to sacrifice himself instead of anyone else? But neither the characters nor the audience know what he wished for, probably to use the wish to handwave future retcons and inconsistencies away, so we can't actually know it was selfless. So, if making the wish isn't inherently bad, it must have been that Shadybug’s specific wish was wrong, which was to steal main Marinette's happy life, or the nature of the sacrifice. I’m pretty sure the writers wouldn't go so far in their morally confused writing as to make Marinette sacrifice someone else to get Adrien back. If she could sidestep that cost, though, she’d be all for it, because apparently rebooting the world is an okay thing to do as long as you don't (seemingly) hurt anyone doing it.

I think that's also the reason it's seen as a valid thing to question which of our characters would go to such extreme extents for the other; the show completely trivialized the wish because the writers thought the Gabriel arc absolutely had to end with us seeing how it works (even as they then failed to actually show us how it works because they want to keep Gabriel's exact wish in their utility belt or for the sake of pointless mystique). I think the question people thinking about this were actually thinking was: “which of these two would do a dangerous thing and rewrite reality to get the other back?” and not “which of these two would sacrifice an actual person to get the other back?” In that scenario, Marinette wouldn't even hesitate. But, with an actual exchange involved, I think Marinette wouldn't ultimately go through with it, but would go further than Adrien before coming to her senses, like what happened with Shadybug and Claw Noir. Like, if we're not meant to see Marinette as someone who’d go to extreme extents to stop her unhappiness, they shouldn't have made two Marinette parallels almost do it.

[cursedbycain]

rooftop - Cain x Lane

tagging: @rc-catalog and ofc my magic 8 ball @kazu-naito for inspiring this

synopsis: a tender moment before everything goes sideways

tw: mention of suicidal thoughts, rated M

wc: 1.1k

“Do you want to go right now?” Cain asks. Lane shakes her head in response, leaning against the railing slightly.

“Let’s just…relax for a minute.” It’s hardly a relaxing moment, the anxiety of her plan settling in her stomach like lead. So many things have to go perfectly and even then Lane isn’t quite sure what comes after. But standing next to the angel, she feels safe.

She grips the cool metal of the railing to steady herself. The half can of soup hadn’t been much and she still felt a bit weak. The cold air is soothing, and she shuts her eyes to pretend she’s somewhere else for just a moment. A cool hand gently covers hers. She sneaks a peak over at the immortal, who continues to stare out into the city.

They’re both quiet for a while. It’s Cain who breaks the silence, thumb skimming over her hand.

“I heard you talking. To…him.” He spits out the last word. As if Abel’s name is a poison he refuses to let touch his tongue.

Lane raises an eyebrow in response, waiting to see if he’ll continue. Cain had been coming out of his shell before. But it seemed the attack on the base had sobered him slightly, seemingly realizing that he wasn’t as in control over the situation as he had thought.

“And what did you think?” She had pretended it hadn’t hurt to hear the things Abel said. Of course, Cain had already told her that out of all the immortals and humans he had ever met, he had liked her. She hadn’t doubted that for a second. But she wondered if the fact she was human had ever given Cain any doubts. That one day he would watch her die and be forced to live on.

“He doesn’t know me. He can act like he’s felt my feelings but if he had…” He trails off but his grip on her hand tightens in an unsaid meaning.

“Do you really feel nothing for him? It doesn’t seem like he holds a grudge.” Cain makes a noise of irritation, like whenever Lester would say something stupid.

“The reason that I have my…specialness is because him and our mother wanted me dead. They wanted to take whatever little life I had and give it to him. He was the one with the power, the prospects, the future. I was nothing. I was going to let them. I wanted to just let them take it and be done with my miserable life. But then…” He’s quiet for a moment, pulling his hand away from hers. It’s only when she glances over at him does she realize why.

He’s crying.

Cain turns his face away in attempt to hide the shiny tracks on his face. His wings give him away, trembling slightly as he roughly rubs away the tears. She reaches out, gently gripping his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. At first, he jerks slightly. Fear grips at her heart for a moment, worried he’ll fall right off the roof. Her free hand snaps out to clench his jacket. It’s a silly, human, fear but she can’t bring herself to let go. His eyes are downcast, afraid to meet her gaze and see what she thinks of his weakness. Lane gently cups his face, rubbing at the remaining tears with her thumbs. It’s only then does he look up.

His mask of indifference is gone. He looks softer this way, blue eyes tinged red from tears, vulnerability pouring out of him. The faint wind tousles his blond hair and she removes one hand from his face to gently push it out of his eyes. Cain stares deep into her eyes, searching not for memories, but for comfort. He pushes himself off from the ledge to stand closer to her. His hands grip her hips as if steadying himself. A shaky breath slips from his lips and he ducks his head down to press into the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist.

She reaches up to hug him as close as she can, rubbing the back of his head. It’s a nearly crushing embrace but it fills her with warmth. He trembles in her arms.

Lane holds him for as long as he needs, until he slowly pulls away, hands resting on her waist. His face remains close, eyes taking her in. He brushes his lips against hers softly, almost as in apology.

On instinct, she leans closer, not ready to break from his embrace just yet. He hesitates for a second before pressing his lips to hers firmly. It’s a gentle kiss, one filled with tension for the future. Still, they let themselves relax into it.

Cain pulls away slowly, resting his forehead against hers.

“We should get going.” He states, but makes no move to pull away. She hums in agreement, letting her eyes memorize every inch of his face. It was nothing she hadn’t seen a hundred times over. But she could never tire of looking at him.

“We’ll have to fill him in. At least a bit.” The mention of his brother sobers Cain up and he looks over her to glance over at the rift once again.

“Better that you do it.” His mask is back on, not a speck of vulnerability left on his face. She can tell he’s mulling over her plan, assessing points of danger. He doesn’t like being on the sidelines like this but he couldn’t exactly come with her. She has to go on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. A smile tugs at his lips as he looks at her in slight confusion. Lane merely shrugs and pulls away, heading back down to speak to Abel.

Of course, the first thing Abel does is criticise. He attempts to disagree with the plan but quickly realizes he doesn’t exactly have other things to do. When she gets everything ready, she undoes the chains attaching him to the bed and gestures for him to get up. At first, he hesitates. Then he hears a familiar flutter of his brothers wings and stands.

Cain lands next to her, hand gently resting on her lower back while he glares at his brother. It’s a warning look, one that makes Abel immediately more agreeable. Cain turns to her, leaning in close and keeping his voice to a whisper.

“Be careful, alright? I’ll stay as close as I can.” In a clear moment of worry, Cain presses a kiss to her forehead. She hears a disgruntled sigh nearby and Cain goes rigid. His fists clench before releasing and straightening up.

She takes a steadying breath, heart still warm from the kiss.

“Alright,” she straightens. “Let’s go”

[ghostandsoap]

Double-Sided

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: Angst. Momma Peach and Poppa Price fight in front of the “kids.”

Word Count: 4.8k

“I would’ve if you had let me.”

She had been at it for hours.

She had a side stitch from standing for so long and the splitting pain in her head was only getting worse with each passing moment. The stress and tension of the room didn’t help, but there was no way she was giving in. 

She could do this all day, but it was beginning to take a toll on her.

Her brain felt like it was swimming in circles. The same movements repeated in her hand gestures and leg motions, and the same threats and words of venom spit from her mouth as she tried to break the man sitting in the middle of the room.

Apparently, he had the same kind of patience that she did. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.

He had stopped trying to fight the restraints of his chair long ago. He wasn’t getting up from where he sat without some outside help, which he most surely wouldn’t be getting. Ghost and Soap had been the ones to wrestle and tie him down, so the odds of him getting loose were slim to none.

It was well into the night. Darkness and stars had painted the sky hours ago. Too bad she and the rest of the Force were stuck inside trying to get answers out of this scumbag, who didn’t show any signs of giving up the information she wanted from him.

Notorious criminal was a basic definition of his character. He and his posse of “colleagues” had been tied to four different chemical warfare incidents in the last several months. “Colleagues” was a term that he so leisurely used, but she hardly considered them to be friendly co-workers. 

He and his crew had designed and created a chemical weapon that had been used in these chemical attacks over the course of the last several months. They had only just now caught up to him, because he was just as good as staying under the radar as he was making his mark. 

Word was that they had sent a “special shipment” of this lab-made weapon to an official location, but the destination was unknown – hence why Peach had been grilling him for half the night at this point. They needed to find the shipment and intercept it before it reached where it was intended to go. A mass exposure to this chemical weapon could mean a lot of damage and fatalities. 

Time wasn’t on her side, and he was stalling and wasting as much of it as he could. 

She was the best interrogator of the team. Each member had their own strengths when it came to squeezing answers out of a person of interest. 

Soap had a certain way with words that could cause the subject to unintentionally give up information. Gaz was cool and convincing, and Price had a temper on him that could shake up pretty much anyone. Ghost was just plain scary – he could merely walk in the room and some people would fold immediately.

But Peach had a little bit of it all. She was convincing and smooth, but could also turn angry and loud. She had it down to a science, but this was her hardest attempt yet. 

Usually she slapped them around a little bit. It sped up the process and you wouldn’t believe the people that caved just because they didn’t want to be beat up by such a sweet-looking woman. Other times though, it slowed everything down. It was a risk that usually had to be weighed once she was in the middle of things and had scoped it out.

But Price had given her once simple command before she began her interrogation.

“Whatever you do, don’t lay a finger on him.”

She had whined and protested, begging her Captain to give her the freedom to get her hands bloody if she needed it. It wasn’t like she ever really hurt anybody that bad. She could control herself much more than if Price went in there and put his hands on the guy.

Still, John feared that if she used her knuckles instead of her head, then they’d never get anything out of him.

Right now she was trying the convincing approach, although she wasn’t getting anywhere. In the last several hours, she had probably asked him what felt like about 100 questions, and he hadn’t answered a single one. He dodged every question and demand and brushed off every insult, threat, and comment. 

She circled him for what had to have been the millionth time. She was sick of looking at his face, and she could only imagine he was tired of seeing her too.  

“That shipment must be goin’ somewhere real important if you’re this tight lipped about it,” She persuaded, her hands shoving into the pockets of her cargo pants. “Must be headed for someone mighty special.”

There had been a few times where she was positive that he was about to give something up, but then he’d catch himself and change the subject completely. 

“That accent…” He rumbled, and she didn’t even bother resisting to roll her eyes. “You’re a long way from home, huh?”

She could only describe his voice as snakelike. It had a certain pitch to it, and all of his “S” sounds were drawn out like a hiss. 

A few times, she entertained his counter questions. If it brought her closer to getting something out of him, then she didn’t mind giving up some personal information of her own. It was a fair trade off, if you will.

“Haven’t been home in a long time,” She answered. “I can’t seem to ditch the accent.”

“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.

This had been the cycle the entire time. She would ask a question and he would change the subject. She was beyond frustrated because nothing was working.

The room that they were in was stuffy. The air was warm, thick, and it felt like she was breathing soup with every inhale she took. Beads of sweat lined her forehead and dripped down the middle of her back, despite the fact that she had stripped down to a tank and her most comfortable set of pants. 

The room was straight out of a movie. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, and there was hardly any real light coming from the singular LED overhead. Based on how it flickered and flashed, it was clear that it had been quite some time since the bulb had been changed.

There was a singular window that offered observation inside, and it connected the adjacent room. The glass was tinted from the inside, so the eyes that were inside, couldn’t see outside.

Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had been watching this whole time from the opposite side, and they were growing more discouraged by the minute.

“She’s not getting anywhere, Captain. He’s barely said anything useful.” Ghost remarked, who was saying what everyone else was thinking. 

Price sighed. They could only do this for so long before they would just be wasting precious time on a dead end. Price didn’t want to pull her out because that was giving up in her mind. But he couldn’t stand to watch her keep doing this.

While she was hiding it well, he knew she was as distressed as could be on the inside. He had seen her in her more visible moments of stress and anxiety, and he knew she was close to the beginning of a breakdown. 

“Let’s give her another half hour,” Price advised. “Maybe she can turn this around.”

They were all tired. It had been a long day and now they were already well into an even longer night. They needed as much rest as they could possibly get before coming up with a new plan and starting over. They didn’t have enough time to try and do this again. 

It turned out that Price’s extra thirty minutes had dwindled down to about two minutes.

“This is gonna go a whole lot easier if you just tell me now,” Her voice lowered, her tone smooth and dark. “Where’s the shipment bein’ sent to?” 

Of course, he wasn’t going to answer that. She was mean and she was tough, but he had spent years perfecting keeping his cool under this kind of pressure. 

“That Captain of yours has it bad for you, doesn’t he?”

A thunderclap of dread cracked in Price’s chest and vibrated to the rest of his body. If there was one way to set her off, it was to bring him into it. She didn’t totally lose it right away, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was close by that comment alone.

John knew better than to look at Soap, Ghost or Gaz, but he knew they were watching him like a hawk. They were waiting for a reaction, but they surely weren’t going to get one. 

“Not a word.” Price instructed, still staring ahead through the dirty glass.

They all jumped, quickly looking in different directions as if they hadn’t been waiting for some kind of tell that this guy was getting under his skin.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Peach and Price had been seeing each other. They weren’t really trying to hide it, but they also weren’t going out of their way to share it publicly. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were curious, but too afraid to ask. They were entitled to privacy, but it didn’t stop them from being nosy.

“What makes you say that?” She dared to ask through almost bared teeth.

“It’s in his eyes. He doesn’t look at his men the way he looks at you,” He said. “How long has that been going on?”

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.” She growled, and her pupils were expanded the way they were every time she was heated. 

This wasn’t going anywhere good. The second she laid hands on him, this entire thing was going to be blown.

“She’s gettin’ angry, Captain.” Soap advised, which was more of a warning than anything.

“Not yet.” Price held up a hand, giving her up until the last possible second to get something. 

She remembered John’s words. It was imperative to find out where the chemical weapon was going. There was no telling what they were planning to do with it and what kind of mass effect it would have. She couldn’t be the one to jeopardize that. She knew that entertaining his nagging questions would only make things worse.

“Where’s the shipment going?” She asked one final time.

He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his words rolling off in his most sinister tone.

“Fuck you.”

Shit.

Price saw the fire explode in her eyes, and he knew to react before she had a chance to.

“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.

Ghost was swift on his feet, entering the room and snatching Peach up before she even had a chance to do or say anything else. He hoisted her off the ground, ignoring her wriggling and shrills of protest. A blast of cold air hit her when he carried her back into the next room, which was barely helpful to her boiling blood.

Ghost wrestled to set her back on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her to fight her attempts to get back in the other room. She shrieked and pleaded for Ghost to let her go, and the good Captain only stepped in when Soap and Gaz had to assist Ghost in holding her down.

“That’s enough,” Price barked. “We’re done here.”

She ripped herself from Ghost’s hold at the sound of John’s voice, giving him a look so cold that it sent a shudder down his spine. Her anger was now laser focused on Captain Price, who wasn’t looking forward to the argument that was undoubtedly about to unfold.

“Let me at him, John, he’s gotta give in sometime.” She hissed, strands of her hair sticking to her damp forehead and the back of her neck.

He didn’t want to fight. He hated fighting with her. He especially didn’t want to get into a squabble with her in front of the rest of the team. But right now, he needed to be her captain first. This was her captain speaking, not her lover. 

This was one of those moments where it was unexplainably hard to be both.

He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she was doing everything that she could. He could praise her for her determination and hard work. At the same time, he couldn’t just sit and watch her work herself to death, especially for no reward. There was much more at stake, and her pride getting a little damaged was better than wasting all of her time trying to crack this nut. 

He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door in case she tried to force her way back inside. 

“You’re done for the night,” John commanded. “You’re not getting anywhere with him.”

Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were standing aside, watching and listening without saying a word. It wasn’t often that Peach and Price got into it like this. But when they did, they knew not to interject or intervene.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She stood in front of him, her eyes squinted and jaw clenched as her accent drew thicker. 

Fire was burning in her eyes. The outline of the vein in her forehead was showing under her skin as her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second. 

He knew that she would take that the wrong way. He wasn’t insulting her attempt or her work, but she surely took it that way. She was tired from being up so long, irritated by the suspect’s behavior, and disappointed that all of this was for nothing. 

But at the moment, that wasn’t Price’s understanding of the situation. All he knew was that she was angry and questioning his judgment in front of his team, and he had to match her tone. 

“It means that this is a waste of time,” His voice grew louder, cheeks burning red. “We can’t afford any more dead ends.”

“And what do you suppose that I do in the meantime?” She challenged him, something she rarely ever did.

“You need to take a break. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene in the morning,” John barked. “That’s an order.”

She didn’t like that at all. She was determined to keep at this until she physically couldn’t anymore. This was just too important to give up on now. She shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of fury and disappointment causing her to be so vicious. 

She could stand here and argue with him for the rest of the night, but if there was anything that she knew would be a waste of time, it was arguing with John Price. 

“Yes, Captain.” She hissed, those two simple words dripping with venom as she pushed past him. 

He sighed as she stalked out of the room, no doubt going to find the furthest place to get some sleep. Price knew better than that though. She would be up the rest of the night stewing over this, prematurely blaming herself for something that hadn’t happened yet. 

He was already feeling guilty for his reaction. He knew better than to blow up at anyone like that…especially her. He was tired, she was tired, everybody was tired. His emotions in a state of exhaustion and irritability had gotten the best of him.

He knew what he needed to do – cool off and go fix this.

Ghost was the first one to speak up when he realized they really were finished for the night.

“What about him?” Ghost asked, tilting his head to reference the terrorist that was still tied down. 

“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.” 

That was Price’s way of telling him that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a criminal right now. That was also Price’s way of telling the three of them that they could do whatever they pleased with him at this point. Price didn’t ask any questions about what they intended to do with him. He didn’t need to know, and he trusted that they would leave him intact enough so he would see his day in the clink.

Price had other matters to tend to. A clammed up suspect wasn’t worth his time. Everybody needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy when the new day came around. 

Rest, reconcile, and regroup. That was his to-do list. He emphasized the second one, but cooling off needed to come first.

He left Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to their own devices, trudging off to find a quiet place to collect himself.

***

If there was one place that Price always knew where to look for her, it was the infirmary.

She was the only one of the team that was trained and qualified enough to effectively utilize the space. Most people avoided it, considering the times that they were there were usually because they were injured or coming down with something. Needless to say that, other than her, it wasn’t likely to catch anybody hanging around there for fun.

She excelled there. It was her main place of work and where her skills were most useful and appreciated. She was talented in many other ways, but her medical knowledge was just so precious and priceless. The force could scrape by without having someone who was perfectly trained in combat or computer hacking. But without a medic? Success was highly unlikely.

The infirmary was where she felt the most useful. She felt almost…safe there.

He knew that’s where she would be. She was probably standing at one of the cabinets, taking all of its contents out and organizing them back inside again. 

It was a meaningless task, just something to occupy her hands while her brain circled around itself. She would do this over and over until every corner of every box was flawlessly lined up and every label on every bottle was centered with the front of the cabinet. It was just to distract herself, and an attempt to keep her real feelings at bay. 

Not to mention, she was unbelievably angry with her captain.

John knew that she wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him. He prepared himself for another fight as he navigated his way to the infirmary. She would never yell or scream at him, but her voice always turned ice cold and stern when she was upset. He found that to be worse. He’d rather her scream in his face – that way he’d have no question about how she was feeling.

She also wasn’t one to talk about things right away. She liked time to simmer on it and at least cool off a little before talking it out. He had waited around 45 minutes before seeking her out. 45 minutes was all he could stand. The anxiety and anticipation of knowing she was alone and seething to herself was unbearable for him. 

While he was desperate to get this resolved, he also had to stand firm in his decision to pull her out of the interrogation. It might’ve upset her as his girlfriend, but it was the right move as her captain. He could acknowledge her disapproval while also defending his decision. 

He turned a corner and immediately noticed a glow of light coming from the open doorway of the infirmary. He could feel the energy from here. She certainly wasn’t in the best mood.

Nonetheless, he would rather have a conversation than move on without discussing it. 

Sure enough, there she was – facing the cabinet on the back wall, lining up boxes of gauze pads and organizing bottles of disinfectant. He could practically see the steam hissing out of her ears, like her head would blow off of her shoulders at any moment. 

He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his feet crossed over one another. She was oblivious to him standing there, another sign that her focus was elsewhere. He took a calming breath to recenter himself before he made himself known.

“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.

Her shoulders squared and straightened at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t expecting to see him again tonight, not after that little fallout they just had. 

Her hands had paused on the box of gauze in her hands, her eyes trained on the print on the cardboard cover. 

“Captain.” She said. 

He ignored the sting in his chest and the annoyance that came from her not using his name. This was one of those times where he was here both as a boss and as a boyfriend. Those moments were pretty rare, and he very much preferred being one or the other. 

“I thought I told you to take a break.” He said coolly, more as small talk than anything. 

“Not tired,” She half-lied. She was tired, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep though. “Where are the boys?”

He couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always referred to Ghost, Soap, and Gaz as “the boys” like they were her kids. It was ironic because she was practically the same age as them, but somehow all of them saw her as motherly at certain times. 

“Soap and Gaz hit the sack,” He said. “I think Ghost is dealing with our perpetrator.” 

Price reached into the inside of his jacket, locating the pack of cigarettes that he stashed there. After today, he needed something to take the edge off. He slid a cigarette from the pack, settling it between his lips while he fished around in his pants pocket for his lighter.

“Guess he was better for the job then?” She grumbled, her back still towards him. “And don’t you dare light that cigarette.”

Price’s thumb had just set on the spark wheel with not even enough time to push it down to ignite the butane inside. She was always on him about his smoking habit. He knew all the health risks and concerns that came from smoking (she had explained them to him many times), but never were they enough to motivate him to kick his habit completely.

Nonetheless, he placed the cigarette back into the pack and stored them with his lighter for safekeeping. 

“It had nothing to do with that. You were just as suited and prepared for it.” He answered.

I guess we’re getting right into it then. He thought to himself.

“Then why’d you pull me out?” She set the box in the cabinet and closed the door.

Her tone wasn’t as firm now, but it still had a certain chill to it. 

“It was all part of his plan. He was going to wear you out until we were out of time.” He remarked.

She shook her head, an incredulous smile spreading across her features. She finally turned to him, her eyes meeting his from across the room. He had calmed down much more than she had, but she didn’t look like she was close to combusting anymore.

“You have absolutely zero faith in me.” She said.

His stance changed, his legs straightening out as he fully entered the room. 

“Come on, Peaches. You know it isn’t that,” He pleaded. “We’re running out of time. I couldn’t risk using it all on a dead end suspect.”

He was closer to her now. He could read her better if he was close. 

“If it had been Soap, you wouldn’t have pulled him out.” She grumbled.

“That’s not true,” He became more determined, but his voice remained normal. “I was looking out for you and for the best interest of this team.”

Her pupils dilated, a quick surge of vexation flashing over her irises. 

“I’m not soft, John. I don’t need you takin’ care of me.” She huffed.

At least we’re back to first names.

“I know that. I’ve never thought of you as anything other than independent and perfectly capable. And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise,” He defended. “But I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep this team safe and in line. That includes you.”

She almost rolled her eyes. How could he act like she didn’t already know that? She had a response ready, but he went on before she could say it.

“I made a judgment call because I was worried about you, and I saw that what he was doing was sabotaging what we’re trying to do,” He proclaimed. “You have the right to be upset over it, but it was the best call. I would’ve made the same choice no matter what. It just so happened that there was a little more emotion involved.”

It wasn’t always easy being both her captain and her lover. As he had said before, it presented some unique challenges that could only be dealt with as they happened. It was only when the two sides blended that things could get tricky. 

It wasn’t always easy for her either. Over time, she had learned to know when to treat him as a respected captain and when to love up on him as her romantic partner. She just had to understand that there were going to be times where his care for her was going to overlap with how he treated her professionally.

And in all honesty, she knew deep down that he hadn’t dragged her out because he didn’t think she could do it. If he thought that she wasn’t capable, he never would’ve let her do it in the first place. 

“It’s just…” She sighed, a much more serene look glossing over her eyes. “He got the best of me.”

She didn’t lose her temper often. If anything, it was more likely for John to flip his lid. But the stakes were high, the pressure was on, and time was running out…it made sense that an uncooperative criminal pushed her over the edge.

“I know. It’s alright,” He pushed a set of stray hairs from her eyes. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it. I need you to have a clear head so we can get this figured out.”

She felt ashamed for lashing out. She was better than losing her composure and confidence over some low life criminal.

She felt remorse for getting in John’s face and nearly cursing him out in front of his team. Her reaction had been uncalled for, and she felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” She apologized, the last of the flames in her eyes smothering out completely.

“Oh, come on now, darling,” He took her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to kill him.”

“I would’ve if you had let me.” She gave a small smile.

He chuckled at that, wrapping one of his arms around her waist.

“I know,” He pressed another kiss to her head. “I find the thought of you killing an international terrorist rather sexy.”

“Is that so?” Her smile grew wider. “Only problem with that is I’ll lose my job if I get caught killin’ him without probable cause. And I like my job.”

“You would never get caught,” He scoffed. “You’re stealthy.”

His arm unwrapped from her waist, his hands coming to gently grip her biceps. He kissed her properly then, his facial hair tickling her skin as she hummed into the kiss. All was well between them. This was hardly any real bump in the road for them. A minor hiccup, at most. 

Price could forgive and forget a little outburst on a terrorist. He would be more concerned if she hadn’t cared so much about this mission.

“How about you get some sleep?” He said when she broke the kiss. “We need to get started as soon as the sun comes up.”

Price’s eyes suddenly started scanning the room, as if he were looking for something. 

“Sure. I’ll finish packin’ the cabinet and I’ll hit the hay,” She smirked, following his eyes. “My medic bag is in that closet. Suckers are in the front pocket. I just restocked the cherry ones.”

A grin spread on his face when he dashed towards the closet that she pointed to. He had a theory that she kept lollipops around not only for people after being treated, but also to keep him from smoking so much. It didn’t really work, but he still appreciated the gesture. 

He stuck around until she was finished, escorting her out of the infirmary and to a decent place to get some rest. He made sure she was comfortable before he turned in for the night as well, but not before finishing his candy treat. 

Although, the lollipop was nothing compared to the relief he felt from making things right.

He felt confident that the answers the team was looking for would be found. And her confidence would return when this was all over and dealt with. She would be successful once more.

And he believed that both as her captain and her lover.

[eimids]

NSFW alphabet: Lucy Bronze

All letters

Enjoy this one because i decided to be nice and do all the letters ;)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It really depends. After a quickie she most likely will grab your ass and ask if you need anything. But if it's even a bit more rough than usual, she will get you to bath, make sure you eat and drink, and do pretty much anything you ask for her to do.

B: Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like Lucy loves her muscles, especially her abs. She loves to see you grind on them, lick them and do all the nasty thoughts in her head. But overall muscles are her favorite part of herself.

For you she loves you ass. She is an ass kinda girl and will grab or smack it any chance she gets. She will gladly put her hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting perso

Lucy loves eating you out. She could have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She will lick you clean and will not complain at all.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not a secret to you, but it took her a while to tell you this. She likes to be tied up every once in a while. 90% of the time she will top you, but sometimes in vulnerable moments, she wants to give you the control and be a good girl.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucy is as experienced as they come. She has had one night stands, girlfriends and even a threesome once so she definitely knows what she does. She could make you see stars in just few minutes.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Lucy loves to fuck you from behind. (Probably comes from her love towards your ass). Seeing you on your hands and knees will make her go feral.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Lucy isn't very humorous during sex. She is more serious and she has her mission to make you feel good. Of course there are times when you both are giggling and your teeth are clashing together, cause you laugh so much, but more often she is quite serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Lucy shaves occasionally but doesn't really care. If someone won't sleep with her because of some hair, then that's their problem.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

She loves being close to you. She loves to feel every part of your body. Especially after, she will cuddle you naked just to feel close to you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

If she is away on a camp or a match, she does not want you to touch yourself without her permission. Only she has the right to make you feel good. She, on the other hand, will get herself off easily when ever she wants by just watching some photos of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like Lucy would definitely have a breeding kink. She will tell you in the middle of the deed how she want's her babies in you and when she cums, she will paint your inner walls so you will be full of her.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

She will have you anywhere she can, but her favorite is always going to be the bedroom where she can take her time with you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

She is horny 24/7. Just seeing you will turn her on and she pretty much would fuck you at any given time. But especially seeing you in her jerseys will make her want to fold you over and fuck you senseless. You have sex with her at least three times a week.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She would never share you with anyone. She is possessive and jealous so that would be a big no.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Lucy loves eating you out but there is also something very special about having you between her legs. She will guide your head by your hair and praise you as you make her feel good. She has trained you and knows how skillful your mouth is.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the situation, but is you have a full day together she will fuck you fast and rough. She will have you in every imaginable position.

Sometimes if you are feeling sad or overall need to feel loved she will be sensual and give kisses to every part of your body, and be all lovey dovey.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

She rather would take her time on you but if a quickie is needed, she will happily give it to you. You have quickies like once every other week.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She loves to experiment things with you. She will gladly try anything at least once to see if she likes it or not. But she will never take risks with actually doing something that would hurt you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Lucy's stamina is like no one else's. She will keep going (thank's to her muscles) until you pass out. She loves to give more than receive so usually she can have couple orgasms max and then she will move to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

She has a toy collection. Pretty much just things to tie you up with and different size dildos to use on you. She much rather uses them on you than herself. She also has a bullet vibrator that she takes with her when she is away to get herself off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lucy doesn't tease much. She is impatient and just wants to get to the point. She will give you foreplay but not that much teasing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Lucy is a bit insecure about making noise in the bedroom. She loves hearing your moans but is pretty quiet herself. But once you told her that you love her moans, she got more comfortable with it.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hmm

I would say that Lucy likes to show you around. She loves to make sure that everyone knows how hot her girlfriend is and isn't afraid of PDA.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

She will be wearing a strap to tease you (and fuck you) at a party.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High. I don't know if that needs further explanation.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She will look after you. She makes sure that you are asleep before going to bed herself. As long as she is close to you, she will be fast asleep.

--

Hope you like it!!!

[seattlesellie]

Ellie n abby eat ass I jus know it. Lmk what/how u think they go abt it

this was supposed to be a blurb. i swear to god.

abby ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: baby blue

abby swears she likes patrols. she swears she does. they make her feel powerful, important, leave her panting with rushes of adrenaline coursing through her veins. she swears she likes them, but lately, her favorite thing about patrol started being coming home to you. seeing the look on your face, how your eyes light up, how you immediately pounce on her begging for a hug. your smell, your delicate hands trailing shapes down her stomach while she tells you about all the things she saw, all the things she killed. the best thing, however, were the things she brought. a delicate flower, a silly pin, a teddybear, anything that reminded her of you - she’d claim as hers. with her hands covered in blood, the sight of her large arms holding a pink duck plushie was borderline comedic. this one time, she even brought you a “cool looking rock” that she was so ashamed to gift you, but you ended up it putting beneath your pillow. everything she brought you was so special, so you, so abby.

last patrol, abby swore she met jesus. for abby, jesus wasnt the tiny pale blue skirt. jesus was you wearing it. when she found the fabric under a big pile of dusty clothes, her eye’s completely lit up. “oh shit” she muttered, a huge grin on her face, making manny side eye her so bluntly. the abby, the war machine, was giddy over a pale blue skirt?

“its not for me” was all she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it was a wednesday afternoon, and abby was on patrol. again. the fact is, being without abby was like being without your very own source of holy water. her absence left you wandering around the wlf base like an aimless puppy, searching for stuff to do. one moment you were wandering the cafeteria, and five minutes later, you found yourself laying on top of one the gym benches, counting the cracks on the wall and trailing their shapes on your stomach.

“hey” you heard a familiar voice peaking behind you.

“oh- hey maya” you said, chirpy as ever. “whatcha doing?” the brunette responded, leaning on the wall near you. “nothing much… just laying here” you said with a smile, and got up to face her. “nice skirt” she said, visibly looking you up and down. getting looks from people wasnt new to you. whether it was for your looks, or the fault of your girlfriend, being looked at by curious eyes wasnt an exactly unfamiliar experience.

“thanks, abby got it for me on patrol” you responded with a big smile. talking about her always made you get like this. giddy, smiley, blushing.

“course she did” the brunette scoffed, gave you another piercing look and smiled. you let out a small sigh, suddenly feeling vulnerable at the amount of skin showing. to say that skirt was skimpy would be an understatement. “you look good” she retreated, and licked her lips slightly. you werent stupid, you knew people wanted you. but people also knew better than to mess with abbys girl. what you did notice, was maya’s advances at you. what you didnt, was abby standing in the corner of the gym’s entrance, examining you.

“leave her alone for 5 fucking minutes” she muttered under her breath and scoffed to herself. the jealousy was flooding her, but abby was a stern woman. with herself, and with other people. she knew how to manage herself, how to control her emotions, which is why she knew how to stop herself from ripping the girl to shreds, leaving her a mess on the floor.

slowly, she walked towards you.

big hands wrapped across your waist, startling you, making your breath hitch.

“abs!” you almost screeched. she smelled like wood and pine, she smelled like abby, your abby.

“hey there” she said sofly, still hugging you from behind, planting a delicate, soft kiss on top of your shoulder, squeezing you. abby couldnt help but glare at the girl in front of you, not breaking her eye contact. if that look had a name, it would be the “i’m gonna fucking strangle you” look. the girl rocked from one foot to the other, visibly perplexed. “nice catching up”, she mumbled.

“abs, think you scared her…” you said, turning around to face her. her icy blue eyes were burning through you. uh oh.

“yeah yeah” she scoffed, and immediately dropped her hands from your waist. one moment, she was hugging you. the next, she was benching.

“wh… not even gonna give me a kiss?” you asked, looking lost and confused. not even a kiss?

“mmph” she scoffed, yet again, while lifting another weight. her biceps were bulging through her shirt, shirt slightly hitching up with every lift, exposing her toned, beautiful v- line to you. if you didnt have any self respect, youd be drooling all over your shirt right now.

“abbyy? hello?” you stepped forward and waved your hand across her face. she immediately dropped the weights down to the floor, got closer to you, and whispered in your ear, not touching you for even a second. “that skirt?” she eyed you up and down, like she was examining her prey. “what?” you questioned, slightly pouting at her stern gaze.

“thats what you get up to when im not here?”

it all clicked now. you took a step forward, and said; “maybe if you didnt leave me…” and rolled your eyes at her. she immediately opened her eyes widely, perplexed at your sudden rush of courage. abby hated when you disrespected her. abby hated your eye rolling habit even more.

“what did you just say?” she said, squinting her eyebrows slightly. you took a step back, but if one moment you were in front of her, at the next one, in the speed of light, she grabbed your wrist forcefully and started dragging you behind her. she was walking so fast, her steps so big compared to yours, you basically had to skip to catch up with her. her grip became tighter and tighter, and by the moment you left the gym, she was practically walking you like a dog.

as soon as you stepped inside the cafeteria, someone had the audacity to approach abby. “hey ab-“ the friendly voice said. “not now” she was almost growling. her grip was hurting you, leaving red marks.

“ouch- abby- that hurts” what was she doing? she stopped right in her tracks, turned you around to face her, and her gaze softened for a moment. she grabbed your wrist, planted a soft kiss while maintaining eye contact, and a moment later continued with her dragging.

usually, walking from the gym to her room would take you 15 minutes. today, it took 8.

she opened the door with her key, hand still grabbing your wrist.

as she opened the door, she practically slammed you across it, almost kicking you to her room. “wha-“ was all you could mutter, before she closed the door with a bang, and pushed you on the door, grabbing both of your wrists now. you could feel her hot breath against your neck, and you couldnt help but arch your back, popping your ass ever so slightly. that act made abby let out a mean chuckle. “slut” she whispered to you, but it was more for her to hear.

she pushed up against you, her strong chest slamming you further against the door.

“its like that, yeah?” she whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you couldnt help but whimper. “like what?” you whined.

“like you want everyone to see you, huh?” she cood, leaving you breathless beneath her frame.

“want everyone to see whats mine?”

she whispered against you, hers.

“n- no abby…” you whined, as your cunt started to ache. you felt suddenly so embarrassed, so vulnerable cheeks heating up.

she started panting, getting all worked up from hearing you whine against her. if she wasnt so mad, shed turn you around, make you face her. shed wanna look into your eyes, see you. but she cant, she just wants to ruin you now, ruin you for anyone else but her.

her hand started going further and further up your shirt, and she felt so warm, her hands so big and calloused against your soft skin. she forcefully ripped the lace bra (that she got you) away from your breasts, pinched your nipples harshly, and began toying with them as if they belonged only to her. you moaned at her touch, releasing a sound so loud it could make the entire base explode. could people hear you? yes. did abby give a fuck? absolutely not.

“want everyone to see your ass, huh?” she tsks, as she shamelessly pushed her crotch against your ass, making you whimper.

“n-no abby…” you whispered. abby yanked your hair down, releasing a choked up moan from your lips. that moan mafe her cunt ache just as much as yours.

she sighed, and demanded your answer. “whos ass is this?” she slapped both of your ass cheeks harshly, making you almost scream. yeah, thats gonna leave a mark, she thought.

“s’yours abby” you yelped. her body was so hot against yours, so rough and forceful you could almost see stars.

“who owns this ass?” she asked, bringing both of her hands to wrap around your neck, and your throat felt like it was fucking burning, holding on to your lungs, not letting you breathe in the slightest.

“answer me” she grunted, trailing bite marks down your back.

“you!” you whispered, all choked up, feeling the hot tears leaking from your face. your cunt ached for friction, just something to feel your clit grind against.

you almost say it, almost tell her, how much your pussy needs her, how wet shes making you, how deeply you want to get fucked, but all that comes out of your mouth are desperate little moans and breaths that make abby’s head spin.

“need to hear you say it” she grunts, drops her hands from your throat and lands another harsh slap on your ass, one that leaves her hand practically vibrating.

youre full on mumbling now, drunk on her touch. “you own this ass abby” and fuck, if hearing those words didnt kill her.

she immediately dropped down to her knees, and before you know it, shes yanking your panties down from your aching cunt, the fabric leaving a burn mark on your inner thigh. “ahh abby- ab- abby” you moan incoherent. “thats right, just like that” she said in a high pitched voice, almost desperate.

“my fucking ass” she mumbles to herself, and the next thing you know shes parting your asscheeks with her rough hands so hard you could almost tear in half.

the sight made her breath hitch, and when she finally managed to steady her breathing, a deep sigh escapes her lips. your ass spread open like this for her, the fact that she can see everything leads her to moan and clench her thighs together.

she spat out a huge glob, and as youre whimpering and backing your ass up for her, she starts rubbing the spit on your tightest hole, making it glisten, making the spit run down your thighs like diamonds. “please abby…” you whine. it feels so fucking good but you need more - her hot breaths are caressing your hole, making you clench tight.

she slowly starts rubbing her pointer finger up and down your slit, making your knees buck. you almost fall down from the pleasure, almost crumble beneath her, but her free hand is holding down your ankle not letting you move in the slightest, gluing you to the ground.

suddenly, you feel the warmth of her tongue on your tight little hole. shes growling in it, cupping her cunt because she just couldnt help herself. her tongue goes up and down, and then right inside you, and your mind goes completely numb, fucked out of your ass.

“mmhhm” she mumbles. “so fucking good”, and it sounds animalistic. her hand leaves her core, and she gives you another harsh slap, grabbing your asscheek and smothering it with her hand, kneading it like soft dough, jiggling it like her life depends on it.

her tongue moves from your tight hole to the hole of your pussy, slurping up all of the juices youre leaking, combined with her globs of spit. the sounds of harsh slurping and moaning are leaving her mouth and you feel like youre gonna come undone from just her tongue deep in your ass, and then - she stops. all the contact is gone, leaving you breathless, scratching the door.

“wh- wh” you started panting uncontrollably. you wanted to ask her what she was doing. why did she stop. you couldnt even speak. she got up, not even bothering to clean up the mess that was running down her chin, making it sticky and warm.

“gonna split you in half” she says, and you swore you were gone.

[ghostlynightpanda]

Can you write more with Mira kano from Aib, maybe something where she’s jealous and acts a bit insane and possessive of us, because she loves us 😅

The Game of Hearts

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: Trapped in the Borderlands, you find yourself the object of Mira’s obsessive love—her jealousy twisting into madness as she isolates you from everyone else.

warnings/content: Mira x fem!reader, toxic and dark relationship, 4.079 words

You had never imagined you'd find yourself here—trapped in a strange, deadly world where only the strong survived. The Borderlands were nothing like you could have ever imagined. The games were merciless, and the rules were simple: survive or die. Each step forward felt like it could be your last, but you had learned to adapt. Strength, wit, and a bit of luck had kept you alive so far, though you knew that could change at any moment.

The first time you noticed her, Mira, she seemed almost too perfect for this twisted world. With her striking beauty, effortless grace, and that air of mystery surrounding her, she didn't seem to belong here, yet somehow she fit. She moved through the chaos like a shadow, leaving behind a trail of whispers. She wasn't like the others—she didn't seem to fear the game. It almost seemed as if she controlled it.

You had brushed her off at first. What could someone like her want with someone like you? But she had taken an interest in you, almost immediately. At first, it was subtle: a kind word here, a protective glance there. You had seen the way she smiled when she caught your eye, how her gaze lingered a little longer than normal. It was flattering, in a way. Everyone in this world seemed to be fighting for survival, but Mira... she acted as if she were above it all, above the madness, above the violence.

You didn't think much of it, but as time went on, her presence began to grow harder to ignore.

It wasn't just her beauty that drew you in—it was the way she spoke to you, the way she made you feel like the only person in the room when she turned her attention to you. She knew how to make you feel special. Like you mattered. And in a place like this, that was a rare feeling. But, over time, the compliments, the protection, the attention—they started to feel different. Off. Like a thread that was starting to unravel.

The first sign came one night when you were speaking to another player—a man you had become friends with. It was nothing romantic; you were merely discussing strategy for the next game. But when Mira saw the two of you talking, her face shifted from the calm, serene expression you were used to, into something darker, something almost... possessive.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. But that look, that subtle flash of something feral in her eyes, stayed with you. It lingered. And the next time you crossed paths with her, she seemed... different.

The mask she wore—a facade of sweetness and charm—was starting to slip, revealing something deeper. Something more dangerous.

"Mira, is everything okay?" you asked one evening as you spotted her standing by herself, gazing out over the horizon. There was a distant look in her eyes, something unsettling.

She smiled, but it wasn't the smile you were used to. It was colder. Calculated. "Oh, darling," she purred, stepping closer, "everything's fine. I just can't help but wonder... where your attention is going lately. You've been so... distracted."

Her words felt like a soft caress, but they held a weight, a hint of something sharp beneath the surface. You had no idea just how deep that weight went, how it would start to consume both you and her in ways you never could have imagined.

And so began the strange, dangerous connection between you and Mira. A connection that would test your very will to survive—and perhaps even your sanity.

At first, it was easy to ignore. The subtle shifts in her behavior—an extra moment of lingering eye contact, the way her smile would tighten when you spoke to other players—could be chalked up to the stress of the games. After all, everyone was on edge, trying to survive. But over time, you began to notice patterns.

It was the little things.

When you spoke to anyone, Mira would show up seemingly out of nowhere. Her presence was like a shadow creeping in at the edges of the conversation. She'd slip into the background, but her gaze was always on you, watching, waiting. And when the conversation ended, she'd find an excuse to pull you away, her hand brushing your arm just a little too closely, her fingers lingering longer than they should have.

"Darling, I need you for something," she'd say, her voice soft and sweet, but there was a sharpness hidden beneath the surface. "You're not planning on spending your time with them, are you?" 

You would try to brush it off, telling yourself it was nothing. After all, it was hard to imagine someone like Mira—beautiful, captivating, and untouchable—could actually feel threatened by anyone. Yet, her actions became harder to ignore as days passed.

One evening, after another brutal game, you were sitting near the edge of the rooftop, catching your breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, but it was the quiet, the stillness, that allowed your thoughts to settle. 

That's when he appeared—Kazuo, a fellow player you had started to trust. He was older, calm in the face of danger, and had been offering advice on surviving the games. You hadn't realized how much his words had meant to you until now.

You didn't even see Mira coming, but you felt her presence before you saw her—an overwhelming wave of tension that seemed to fill the air.

Kazuo was talking when Mira approached, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete as she strode toward you. Her gaze locked onto him first, and you could see the slight tension in her jaw. Her smile was gone, replaced by a cool mask of politeness.

"Isn't it a bit late for a chat?" Mira's voice was soft, but the edge to it made you freeze. "I thought you'd want to rest before the next game."

Kazuo glanced at you, then back at Mira, sensing the shift in the air. He gave a polite nod. "You're right. We should all rest. Tomorrow's another day."

He made his exit, a quick one, and as soon as he was out of sight, Mira's gaze turned back to you, her eyes colder than you'd ever seen them before.

"Are you really that interested in him?" she asked, her voice smooth, but the way her lips curled upward suggested something darker. "Or is there something else going on that I don't know about?"

You blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

Mira stepped closer, her eyes never leaving yours. She reached out and gently traced the curve of your cheek with a finger, as if examining you, her touch too soft and too deliberate to be casual.

"I'm just... curious," she said, voice turning sickly sweet. "Why are you always so friendly with them? Always so trusting? Don't you see? They'll only use you. None of them are worth your time. Not like me."

The words hung in the air like poison, slowly sinking into your mind. You tried to brush it off with a laugh, but there was a cold pit forming in your stomach. It wasn't just concern anymore—it was something else. She seemed dangerous.

Mira's hand dropped from your face and slid down to your wrist, gripping it a little too tightly. "You don't need them," she whispered, her voice low, almost seductive. "You need me. You belong to me."

You yanked your wrist free, heart pounding. The warmth of her touch still lingered, but now it felt suffocating, like chains were wrapping around you. Mira blinked, her expression unreadable for a moment, before she flashed a smile so sweet that it almost hurt. "Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure no one takes you from me."

From that moment on, Mira's jealousy became impossible to ignore. It wasn't just the way she subtly took control of your every movement, guiding you away from other players, keeping you close. It was the way she would watch you, always watching, her gaze never straying too far. When you spoke to someone else, especially if there was any physical closeness, she'd appear like a shadow, her smile now a twisted, hollow version of its former charm.

The next day, during another game, you found yourself cornered in an alley. Mira was there, of course, her eyes dark with a possessiveness you hadn't seen before. "Where were you last night?" she asked, the sweetness in her voice nearly sending a chill down your spine. "I was looking for you. You weren't with me."

You tried to ignore the rising panic inside you. "I was just talking to some other players. We were strategizing—"

Her hand shot out, gripping your arm tightly. "Don't lie to me," she whispered fiercely, pulling you closer. "I don't want you near them. Not ever again."

Her breath was hot against your ear, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you could feel her body pressing against yours. She was close—too close. The insanity in her eyes was unmistakable now, her hold on you tightening, as if she was afraid that someone would steal you away.

"You belong to me, and I won't let anyone take you from me, do you understand?" she hissed.

You could only nod, your throat tight with fear. The words were sweet, but there was nothing loving in them. Only ownership. Only control.

And for the first time, you realized the depth of Mira's obsession.

The tension between you and Mira had become unbearable. Every time you spoke to someone else, it felt like she was there, lurking in the background, her eyes burning a hole in you. The constant pressure of her watchful gaze was starting to suffocate you, but you couldn't escape. You tried to distance yourself, tried to keep interactions with others to a minimum, but it wasn't enough. Mira was always just a step behind, her presence looming over you like a storm cloud.

And then, it happened.

You had spent some time talking to a new player, Yuto, someone you'd met only a few days before. He was quiet, but kind, offering you a little bit of relief from the chaos of the Borderland. You found yourself enjoying his company, laughing at jokes that, in the outside world, might have seemed trivial, but in this place, they felt like life itself.

It was innocent. It was harmless.

But not to Mira.

You were sitting in a corner of a dilapidated building, Yuto and you talking over some water when you saw Mira. She was standing in the doorway, watching you both, her gaze fixed on you like a predator locking onto its prey. The way her lips curled into a smile was nothing like the ones she gave you before. It was different—it was terrifying.

Before you could say anything, Mira approached, her heels clicking sharply against the cracked floor. She moved slowly, deliberately, as though savoring every moment. Her eyes flicked between you and Yuto, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

"I see you've found someone else to talk to," she said, her voice smooth, but the undertone was chilling. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear, her fingers brushing against your arm. "You know, it's so hard to keep track of you, darling. I can't help but wonder... why you need anyone else. Why him?"

Yuto, sensing the shift in the air, stood up, instinctively putting some space between the two of you. He looked between Mira and you, his expression uneasy. "I—I didn't mean to intrude," he stammered. "I'll just go."

But Mira wasn't having it.

"No," she purred, her voice dripping with malice. "You're not going anywhere."

With a speed that made you freeze in shock, Mira's hand shot out, gripping Yuto's wrist tightly, her nails digging into his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn't pull away, unsure of how to react.

"Mira!" you exclaimed, stepping forward, trying to intervene. "Let him go. What are you doing?"

She didn't respond at first, her gaze now fixated on Yuto with an intensity that was almost feral. Then, slowly, she turned her eyes toward you, and in that moment, you saw it—pure madness. Her smile twisted into something unrecognizable, her pupils dilated, and her grip on Yuto's wrist tightened, causing him to wince in pain.

"You don't need him," Mira said, her voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't need anyone but me."

With a sudden, brutal motion, Mira shoved Yuto away, sending him crashing to the ground. You gasped, horrified, but before you could react, Mira was already advancing toward you, her hands gripping your shoulders with surprising strength.

"You're mine, do you understand? You don't get to have anyone else. Not while I'm here. Not while I'm keeping you safe." Her voice was breathless, trembling with a dangerous excitement. Her eyes locked onto yours, wide and frantic, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this entire world. "I love you, and no one will take you from me. No one will ever touch you again."

"Mira, please—" you started, your voice shaky, but she was beyond listening.

Her manic laughter echoed in the empty building, ringing in your ears. "Don't you get it?" she hissed, her lips curling into something cruel. "I've protected you. I've kept you safe. I've given you everything. And this is how you repay me? By throwing yourself at others? By talking to them like they matter?"

Her grip on your shoulders tightened painfully, and you could feel her breath on your skin, hot and desperate. "I've been watching you, darling. Every moment, every word, every smile you give someone else... it drives me insane." Her voice cracked, her eyes welling with tears, though they were tears of rage, not sadness. "I gave you everything, and you—you—want them?"

It felt like a wave had crashed over you, drowning you in her madness. This wasn't love. This was obsession. Mira was no longer the woman you had once thought you could trust. She had become something unrecognizable.

"Mira, stop," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear. "This isn't love."

She froze at your words, her eyes widening, the realization slowly dawning on her. For a moment, there was a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps. But it was fleeting.

With a wild, almost animalistic growl, Mira slammed you against the wall, her face inches from yours. "You belong to me!" she hissed, her breath ragged, her voice hoarse. "No one else can have you. Only me."

Her hands slid up your arms, her fingers digging into your skin, leaving marks that you knew would last. You could feel her trembling with fury, her entire body coiled tight, like a spring ready to snap.

And snap she did.

"You're mine!" she screamed, her voice a mixture of lust and rage. "You can't escape me. No one can take you from me, not even you!"

In that moment, you knew—Mira's love had become a twisted, unholy thing. She wasn't just in love with you. She needed you. Desperately. And she would destroy anyone who tried to tear you away from her. Even if it meant destroying herself in the process.

You had never felt more trapped in your life.

The walls of the dilapidated building were closing in on you, the air thick with the scent of dust and decay. Mira was still standing there, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths, her eyes never leaving yours. Her fingers were still digging into your skin, her grip tight and unyielding. You could see the madness in her gaze—the wild intensity that had only grown more frantic since she had taken you.

You had tried to escape, tried to distance yourself from her, but the more you pulled away, the more tightly she clung to you. Every attempt you made to break free only seemed to fuel her desperation. She wasn't listening. She wasn't seeingyou anymore—only the vision of you that she had twisted in her mind, the version of you that existed only to belong to her.

And now, as you stood in the shadows of this desolate world, it became clear to you: there was no escape. Not unless she let you go. And Mira wasn't about to do that.

She stepped closer, the proximity suffocating. The madness in her eyes had evolved into something darker, something raw and unfiltered. You could feel the heat of her body against yours, her breath brushing your skin as she spoke in a voice that trembled with unrestrained emotion.

"Do you understand now?" she whispered, her voice nearly breaking. "Do you see how much I love you? How much I need you? I gave you everything, and all I've ever wanted was for you to see it. To see me. Only me."

You didn't answer right away. You couldn't. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spinning with the weight of the reality you had been unwilling to face until now. Mira wasn't just someone you could walk away from. She wasn't someone who would just let you go, no matter how much you wanted to escape.

"Please," you said softly, your voice shaking. "Mira, this isn't love. What you're doing... it's not love. You're hurting me."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, as if the very notion of her actions being anything other than love was a foreign concept. She took a step back, her breath hitching, and for the briefest moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in her expression—a crack in her otherwise unshakable facade.

But then it was gone. The cold mask slipped back into place. She tilted her head, a soft, almost imperceptible smile curling at the corners of her lips.

"You don't get it, do you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet carrying a weight of finality that chilled you to your core. "This is what love is. You think love is sweet, that it's gentle. But love is savage, darling. Love is all-consuming. It doesn't care if it breaks you. It doesn't care if it destroys everything. As long as it gets what it wants."

Her hands slid up to your neck, her touch gentler now, but no less intense. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing lightly across your cheek in a way that almost felt tender—but there was nothing tender about the way she held you. It was possessive. It was desperate.

"Look at me," she said, her voice soft but filled with a dark hunger. "Look at what I've become because of you. You... you made me this way. I'm nothing without you. Without your attention. Without your love."

Your heart beat faster, a sickening mix of fear and something else swirling in your chest. This wasn't love. It couldn't be.

But Mira didn't seem to care what you thought.

"I've watched you, darling," she continued, her voice almost reverent now. "Watched you grow strong, independent. I tried to let you be free. I really did. But it doesn't work, does it? Because you'll never truly be free. You belong to me. You've always belonged to me. No one else can have you. No one. Not even you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hold your ground. The words stung, but you couldn't let her see the effect they had on you. You couldn't let her win, not like this. "Mira, this isn't healthy. You need help. You—"

But Mira shook her head, her smile twisting into something almost pained. "I don't need help, darling. I need you. And now, finally, I've made you see. I've made you understand. I've given everything for you. Everything. And now you're mine. Forever."

The finality in her words cut through you like a blade. There was no room for negotiation, no hope for salvation. You knew in that moment, with a sickening certainty, that Mira's love wasn't just possessive. It was a prison—a suffocating, inescapable force that would keep you bound to her forever, whether you wanted it or not.

Mira's fingers slid down to your lips, her touch light and almost affectionate, but there was an edge to it, like a warning. "You don't have to say anything, darling," she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. "I know what you want. You want to be with me. You need to be with me. And I'm not letting you go."

Her words echoed in your mind long after they had left her lips, a twisted confession that would haunt you for as long as you were trapped in this world—and in Mira's grasp.

"Come, darling," she murmured, her voice silky yet urgent as she dragged you away. "The game is about to start."

You blinked, confusion washing over you. "What? Mira, what are you talking about?"

She simply tilted her head, amusement flickering across her face. "The Ten of Hearts, of course."

Your stomach twisted. You hadn't seen a game arena nearby—none of the Scouts had. There were no indicators, no signs. But Mira? She spoke with the certainty of someone who knew.

Your heart began to pound as she dragged you out of the front gates of the Beach. "Mira, the Beach isn't—"

But before you could finish, the speakers overhead crackled to life.

"Attention all players. The game will now begin."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Arena location: The Beach."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. A stunned silence settled over the Beach as the announcement sank in.

You barely had time to react before Mira yanked your arm once again, dragging you forward with an alarming strength. The chaos behind you was instant—shouts of confusion, panic setting in, people scrambling to process what was happening. But Mira didn't stop. She didn't look back.

How did she know?

You stumbled after her, your breath hitching as she pulled you further away, down the road like she had planned this all along. The Beach had been a safe haven—or so you had thought. But now, it was a death trap, and the woman leading you away from it knew the truth before anyone else.

Mira was humming to herself, seemingly unaffected by your panic. The grip on your wrist never loosened, her fingers possessive, burning into your skin like a brand.

You finally found your voice, breathless. "Mira—how did you—"

"Shh," she cooed, squeezing your hand as if you were lovers, as if this was all just a game to her. "It doesn't matter, my love. What matters is that we're leaving."

Leaving. Not fighting. Not strategizing. Not staying with the others to figure out a way to survive. No—Mira had no intention of playing this game.

"You don't belong with them," she said softly, cupping your face. "You belong with me."

Your breath hitched.

Mira had orchestrated this. Whether through knowledge or power, she had known the Beach would become an arena. She had known staying meant risking everything. But she had also known something far worse—something far more dangerous.

You swallowed down your nervousness, trying to get at least one clear answer out of her. "Mira, who are you?"

"I'm yours, silly," she laughed coldly. "But if you mean who I am in this world? I am the Queen of Hearts."

Your mind reeled. Of course. The pieces clicked into place. The mind games, the manipulation, the way she had been watching, waiting, always knowing more than she let on. Mira wasn't just a player in this world.

She was one of its rulers.

And now, she was taking you away from it all.

She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her breath warm, her hands gentle yet controlling. "We're going home, darling," she whispered. "You'll stay with me. Safe. For as long as the games go on. For as long as no one defeats me." Her smile widened, her eyes gleaming with something almost delirious. "For as long as I reign as the Queen of Hearts."

And as she pulled you along, deeper into the night, away from the screams echoing behind you, one terrifying truth settled in your mind.

You weren't escaping the game.

You were trapped in hers.

Forever.

Masterlist

[caramelcleopatraa]

English: Jealousy: Love Me Like You Say You Do

x: A fictional piece of writing starring Hazel and Roman and an uninvited guest that Hazel’s not a fan of

Parts: Celos: Observación ! Celos: Negación Dolorosa ! Celos: Sucia

English: Jealousy : Observation ! Jealousy: Painful Denial ! Jealousy: Dirty

Saturday

The gray clouds blanketed the sky, crying down an ever ending cycle of rain. or, at least, that’s what she remembered. She hadn’t bothered to look at the sky or the grass that sprouted the beautiful list of flowers, or the anonymous people conversing walking the streets. A rather grim start to her day, no doubt. The natural curious soul didn't seek questions today. Those direct chocolate eyes, spent most of its time admiring the smooth floors in the house, or the dark carpet in the cadillac escalade, or the shiny marble floor that reflected the chandeliers so richly.

Blur. It was all a blur. The people moved past her and just looked like motion blur. Not able to identify their faces. Maybe it was the world around her that was the problem. Or maybe it was her. She was in scrambles. Ignoring the gnawing pain in her head, her chest, her stomach. She finally pushed past her bellowing rage from last night when Tiffany called out Roman publicly. Which confused her, because she never wanted to control him, or argue with him. She never wanted to make him feel like she didn't trust him. And she wasn't even mad at him. Maybe Tiffany. Naturally, Tiffany. But more… at herself.

‘There must be something wrong with me. Is that why he stayed over there longer than usual? Why she decided to touch his arm? Did he lie about what they were talking about? Is there something that I don't know about? I thought he was being honest. I trusted him. Is it something that I'm not doing?’

She dreaded this more than anything. She dreaded that she couldn’t fully devote her attention to her clients. But she tried her best, helping the influx of high end customers, while trying her best to find the answer to the questions that clouded her judgment. What a day this was going to be.

The Cadillac rested in front of the building. 8 o clock. Like clockwork. Never late. Never too early. Just on time. There was no light in her eyes by the time that closing had come around. She was sure that her driver noticed. The fire that would be reflecting in her eyes after work was dull, and dim. And the spark that lit that fire had been nonexistent all day. Finally, she would go home. To her bed. Not to see Roman and talk about all of the customers and their annoying demands, just some sleep. She didn't even want to talk to him. Didn’t want to burden him with her fluctuating feelings. And that's exactly what she did. Stripping off everything as soon as she walked through the front door. She only bid him a small hello, before disappearing into the shower, letting the hot water and steam fill her senses. Hazel knew that Roman would try to ask questions about why she was acting this way, but she wanted to be selfish this one time. Let herself figure out what is going on, and then address him. ‘Yeah. That's what i’ll do’

Sunday

The black silk sheets wrapped around her body till morning. He was up at ungodly hours training, attending meetings, and running errands for the house that Hazel had not gotten to yet. She didn’t want to leave the mold she had made in her bed. She knew that the questions and thoughts regarding Tiffany would hit like a surge storm as soon as she got up. But she has work to do, and the bag doesn’t chase itself. ‘Just, happy thoughts. Breathe. Breathe~ Happy thoughts.’

Friday

A drive home. No special drivers, no assistants. Just her. With guilt eating away at her. She had promised him that she was going to be there. But she just… couldn’t stand being in the same place as the two of them. Whether that was beneficial to her didn’t matter right now. Truth be told, she might try something even more bold since she won't be there, or maybe she took out all of the fun because Tiffany can’t see Hazel’s face in real time when Tiffany torments Hazel. Well it’s too late now. She recognized the brick driveway she had driven over countless times. Slugging herself out of the car, through the front door, and plopping onto the bed. Not even bothering to hang her keys up or take her blouse off. Sleep. That sounded so good right now. Order some pizza, hide behind the covers and go to sleep.

She didn’t remember when everything had meshed together. She didn't even remember hopping in the shower. She barely remembered herself walking through the front door. All she was focused on was distraction. ‘Distract yourself.’ She wondered what he was doing right now. Probably backstage readying up to present himself to the masses. ‘Distract yourself.’ Would he be disappointed in her that she didn’t show up like she said? What if this was the worst day she could’ve missed? ‘Distract yourself Hazel..’ “I miss him.” ‘Hazel...’ She misses her man. her man. She should be in his arms while he waits for his cue. Wishing him good luck and showering his face in kisses. ‘Stop..’ What if Tiffany’s there? ‘Hazel this isn't good..’ Trying to take her place and give him words of affirmation with her kiss-ass tone? And she's not there to stop her. She’s able to do as she pleases. “And then she.. she,” Hazel says, snapping to her senses when she realizes that she’s talking to herself, letting her mind break piece by piece. Because of her. And because she loves him so damn much.

Monday

She tugged on the short crop top, making sure her cleavage was showcased through the top. Well, whatever the scraggly piece of clothing was. She sighs. She was going to figure it out. More provocative maybe? Tiffany’s gear always showcased her tits. No matter, she could do that too. A thin mustard crop top that tied in the front, stopping right at the bra line. With that, skinny ripped jeans that cling onto her body like water, with strappy heels. “Hello ma’am how are you doing this morning?” One of the cleaners that always greeted her on the way in. She replies before heading into her office saying, “Not great. But.. another day, another dollar.”

Friday  12:00pm

5 excruciating days of work. She was so busy that she had forgotten who Tiffany was. Or about Smackdown tonight. Client after client. Hour after hour. Customs after customs. Numb. Yeah, that was the best way to explain it. Just numb. After day two, she was on autopilot. Wake up, shower, put on another promiscuous outfit, bid her goodbyes to Roman, and spend the rest of her time at work. It really was exhausting the amount of work that she forced onto herself. With those demoralizing thoughts that seemed to get worse everyday. ‘One more customer.’ ‘Might have to skip lunch today, too many people in the shop.’ ‘Might have to do extra work at home.’

It was noon on her fifth work day. ‘God. I'm tired.’ She had been sipping on an empty coffee cup, pushing out every ounce of energy she had. And she had forgotten to bring her tupperware filled to the brim with her favorite leftovers. Wonderful. Just wonderful. 

“Excuse me Ms. Hazel, Roman is here to see you.”

‘Why? Is he here?’

“Let him in,” Hazel says, sighing while tapping her forehead. A tall figure with a black hoodie and black sweatpants entered the shop carrying a gray disposable bag with a tupperware full of food in it. Roman. He never came to visit her at her job, and she honestly preferred it that way. She gets distracted way too much when he's there. He gently lays the bag on top of the glass display case, observing her lazy face upon his entry.

“You forgot your lunch this morning.” She gave him a quick smile and replied, “Thank you. I didn’t want to order anything today. You saved my ass.” Her hands reach out to him, and he leans forward. Allowing her small hands to grab his face and give him two sweet pecks on his lips.

And they thought the same thing at the same time.

‘His lips are so soft.’

‘Her lips are so soft.’

“When are you coming home?” Roman purrs, still remembering the quick but savored feeling of her lips on his. Meanwhile, she shuffles around her office, picking up stacks of paper and sitting them on her desk.

“Um, probably 11, why?”

“Is this job stressing you out?” She gave him a confused look. When has she ever complained to that extent? She loved her job. “No, of course not. It can get hectic, like many jobs, but I love mine.” He places his hands in his sweatpants pocket, watching her rampage through the first stack of papers. “You know you can have someone else help you out with all of this right? That’s what secretaries and interns are for.” Why was he so concerned for her work load? She always worked a lot. This wasn't the first time she came home late from work. 

“You don’t think I can handle this?” He sighs and counters, “I know you can, but I want my woman back.”

“Sweetie, i'm right her-”

“I want you home baby. Vibrant like you used to be. You just look so tired and annoyed now. You’re so silent when you come home. You barely want to touch me when you come home. I’m not saying you can’t handle it. My baby is the best of the best. But this.” He was now behind the looming jewelry glass display case, standing in the doorway to her office and motioning to the bothersome conundrum. More like abomination of a room littered with papers in every spare corner. “This can’t be healthy for you, dear. I can’t tell you how to run your business, but I really think you should find a secretary or someone that can lighten the load for you. Please come home. You don’t need to do all of this bull shit right now. Call me selfish, I don't care. Let me take care of you. Let me ease your stress. Let me do what I do best, for you Hazel.”

She didn’t know what it was that made her cry. Maybe it was his tone of voice. Maybe his looming concern for her health. His beautifully constructed sentences. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. Maybe him just being there made hot tears string down her face. He rushed to her side, standing her up and cradling her in his arms while she cried in his shirt. She muttered “I’m sorry,” into his shirt over and over and over. She felt so guilty. She didn’t know that she was hurting him. That was the last thing she wanted. She never wanted him to feel like he did anything wrong. She knew that this was a “her” problem. That was why she even began working so much in the first place. Busy herself and her mind and maybe, just maybe, she’d figure herself out that way. 

He told her to stay put, while he exited the office, going to the greeter that stood at the glass doors and asked her a couple questions as she nodded understandingly. Commotion broke out, and workers started grabbing their things. The greeter rushed them out of the door and turned the dainty sign that hung on the door from the “open” side, to the “closed” side. He appeared in her office quickly, only to grab her purse, keys, and other essentials for her.

“Roman what’s going on?” 

“We’re leaving.” She pointed to the multiple stacks of paper on her desk. “I-I still have wo-.”

He grabs her hand softly with all of her belongings in the other hand, leading her out of her office and pulls the door shut. “What work?” he says, smiling at her before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’re well overdue for a Roman special.” Hazel chuckles to herself, her hand re-engulfed in his. “And what the hell is a Roman special?”

He turns around and smiles at her. “Some good food, a hot bath, a massage, some good head, and great dick.”

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000 @shes2real @pittieprincess22 @wrestlingprincess80 @msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11 @saintmagx @starryskies97

[vintageneptune92]

Burn the Shadow- 11

So sorry for the wait! Thank you so much for all of your comments, likes and shares. They are so encouraging.

I promise our girl won’t always be so angry and angsty! 🤍🤍

Gia stood infront of the floor length mirror repeatedly running her hands down her light grey pencil skirt to smooth it out. She had it paired with a white button down. It hit her right at her knees with a slit in the back to make walking easier. She had slid on black snake skin heels. She adjusted her black belt as she stared at herself critically.

She felt like she was going into the precinct for the first time all over again. It felt like the first day of High School when she was going in as a thirteen year old; that has been a special sort of anxiety ridden hell. She hated this feeling. It was like every nerve ending was exposed. Every piece of her was raw and on display. She was worried that people would be talking about her. What had happened to her wasn't a secret, and humans by nature couldn't help but be curious. The idea of being the subject of whispered conversations, rumors and questions if she was really ready to be back, how she couldn't save Ali, her ability to do her job in question, was her worst nightmare.

Rafael walked into the room sipping a cup of coffee and studied her for a moment before she realized he was standing there. She felt itchy on the inside, like something was crawling beneath her skin. She didn't want to tell him any of this because she was afraid he might try and convince her to not go back yet. She felt like if she didn't go back today, she never would. It had to be today.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in a skirt for work before." He mused, a faint smile on his face.

"Well, it's not exactly practical when you're chasing rapist down the street, but I'm on desk duty so I figured I'd get some use out of it." He took a sip of his coffee as he continued to watch her. "What?" She demanded not being able to take him looking at her like that anymore. She hadn't ever seen him rake his eyes over her in such a blatant way before. She felt herself flush under his gaze.

She scrunched her face which made him smile. She didn't know it was one of his favorite facial expressions she made. He had become an expert in reading her face and her reactions. She may have been able to control what was coming out of her mouth, but she had no business ever being a poker player.

"I think you're trying to overcompensate for the attention you're going to get by going in looking phenomenal." Her cheeks darkened further.

"Am I that transparent? Wait I look phenomenal? Am I trying too hard?!" She huffed. "Is that what everyone else was going to think?" She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Only to me. I can read you like a familiar book." She shot him a dirty look.

"I will have you know I am excellent at hiding things and keeping secrets." She crossed her arms defiantly.

He set his coffee cup down on the dresser and then snaked her by the waist and yanked her over to him. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her flush against him, a playful look in his eyes. His only hope was to dispel the tension she was feeling.

"Well now I'm interested in all of these secrets. I think I know how to extract them from you." She hummed in appreciation as he left opened mouth kisses down her neck and across her collar bone before he ran his fingers lightly down her spine and it caused her to arch into him as her breath hitched, giving him more access to her.

She didn't know why the line down the middle of her back was so sensitive, but he used it to torture her, but in the most enjoyable way possible. Before she could react he was kissing her, one arm still around her waist and the other cradling the back of her head. They finally broke free when they both desperately needed to breath.

"Careful, you don't want to engage in that kind of warfare with me." He grinned.

"I'm pretty sure that I do, but maybe not so close to having to leave for work." She raises her eyebrows before she kissed him this time. She felt him groan ever so slightly when she dragged her teeth over his bottom lip. Served him right.

"That's not playing fair." He whispered as he rested his forehead against hers.

"I know." She laughed and brought both hands to the side of his face and kissed him again, briefly this time.

"I think we should both call in." She laughed and shook her head as she reluctantly removed herself from his embrace.

"Look sharp Counselor. You may want to go wash that lipstick off or you are going to get a LOT of questions about it." She picked her lipstick up and reapplied it in the mirror before running a lip gloss over it and checked her teeth as Rafael headed into the bathroom.

She grabbed her badge that was hanging from and hung it around her neck. She made her way out to the living room and slid on her coat. It was far too chilly in the morning now to go without it. Not that she minded. She had always been a North Easterner at heart and didn't mind the cooler weather.

"You're going already?" Rafael came out, towel in hand after washing his face.

"Yeah, I'm hoping to get to talk to Cragen about us before anyone else comes in. Plus I don't want everyone staring at me as I walk in."

He walked over, putting his hand on the side of her face, sliding his fingers into her hair. She closed her eyes for a moment leaning into his hand. When she opened them, he was studying her intently.

"You will be fine. Everyone there loves you and has been worried about you. They've missed you. They are all on your side and have your back. I wish you could have seen everyone come together to solve that case. Also, if anyone gives you a hard time I know plenty of judges that like you that would sign an arrest warrant for harassment or something. I don't know. I'd make something stick."

Her face relaxed into a slight smile and he pulled her in for a hug. She stood there for a moment relishing in the comfort of his arms. She inhaled the smell of his cologne, the faint scent of sandalwood tickling her senses. It was now her favorite smell. When he pulled away, he kissed her on her forehead.

"I don't want to mess up your lipstick again." He said as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear. She had it back to her picture perfect ringlets. It meant something to him that she didn't worry about being seemingly flawless around him. He now knew it was a defense mechanism. He had seen her visibly relax and the tension melt from her body when walking through his door when it was just the two of them.

She was about to respond when she heard her phone ringing. She pulled away from Rafael much sooner than she would have liked to and searched in her giant bag for her phone.

"Hi Captain-" he must have started speaking before she could even say anything her sentences had cut off so abruptly. "Really? I'm on desk duty. Yeah, I'll be right there." She blinked rapidly a few times looking to the side, brows scrunched together much more harshly than in in the moments prior.

"Everything okay?" Rafael questioned tentatively as she looked at him, uncertainty shining from her eyes.

"He needs me at a crime scene. I- uh, I have to go." Her voice sounded a little rattled. "I guess it's bad enough that they need an extra person there."

A greusome crime scene was not how she wanted to spend her first day back. She had wanted to drink too much coffee the way she used to and get caught up on open cases. Maybe take a peak at some old ones with a fresh set of rested eyes.

"Cariña, you'll be fine. He wouldn't ask if he didn't think you could handle it." She blew out the breath she had been holding.

"You're probably right." Normally he would tease her for even hinting that he was right, but it wasn't the time. He took her hand.

"Call me when you can, let me know how it goes?" She nodded as he opened the door for her and she rushed out. When he closed it, he hoped he was right about Cragen knowing what she was ready to handle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gia made her way slowly into the brownstone where the crime scene was located. There had been a struggle, that was for sure. A dead body in the living room was covered with a white sheet. Pictures were askew on the wall. As her heels clicked to announce her arrival, Cragen's grim face met hers.

"Captain, what happened?" She asked, eyes wide after seeing the blood pooled on the floor.

"Sara Moreno was here with her sister and her daughter. Someone got in, we don't think it was a break in, but there was a struggle. They killed her sister, execution style. Single shot right in the center of her forehead. They beat and brutally raped Sara. Liv and Amaro are at the hospital. Sara is in bad shape, it'll be touch and go for a while." Gia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"The daughter?" She asked before opening her eyes.

"That's why you're here. We found her hiding in the closet. I was hoping that you could coax her out. Liv didn't have any luck. I want her checked out at the hospital. I'd like you to go with her. I got the husband on the phone, he's trying to get a flight home. He begged that we keep her with us and not family services. I didn't intend for your first day back to be babysitting duty, literally." Gia gave him a fond smile.

"This is better than sitting behind a desk being gossiped about. Plus, I'm equipped to deal with what undoubtedly will be her big emotions. I can't imagine what she has seen. If she gets cleared from the hospital, where am I going with her?"

"The precinct. We will use one of the interview rooms. The husband? His father was a cop and he just trusts us more. He thinks she might be more comfortable there than elsewhere." Gia nodded. This was so out of the norm for procedure, but bending the rules for a fellow police officer's family was not.

Gia slowly walked into the bedroom and took a look around. She had a pang in her heart that felt like a bullet when she saw the room decorated with zoo animals and there was a giant Red Panda painted on the wall. She had to stuff that down to feel it later. This was not about her, but the little girl hiding in the closet.

The white double doors to the closet were both open. Gia walked over, slid down to the floor. The girl inside, if Gia had to guess, was 5, at most 6. She had light brown skin and a mess of curly dark hair. Hair not so dissimilar to Gia's. Her knees were pulled to her chest and her forehead rested atop. Gia made sure to make plenty of noise so the little girl knew that she was there. She didn't want to scare her anymore than she already was.

"Hey there Chiquita." Gia said softly, hoping that familiar term soften the child. The little girl picked her head up to see who had sat down in front of her. Her dark brown eyes were watery. Tear tracks had dried down her face. When she didn't look away or start crying again, Gia forged on.

"My name is Gia. I'm a police officer and I'm here to help you and take care of you. Can you tell me your name?" Gia showed the child the badge hanging around her neck. The girl hesitated for a moment and sniffed.

"Giselle." She whispered, her eyes not quite meeting Gia's. Gia followed her line of vision to a lion painted on the wall.

"Well, that is a very pretty name. So you like zoo animals?" Giselle nodded, it was something. "My favorite zoo is the Bronx zoo. I have a niece that is about your age. We go to the zoo all the time. She likes Red Pandas like you have on your wall. She has a big stuffed one that she sleeps with her every night. He might be the same size as you!" Giselle's eyes widened.

"Giselle, I'm here to help you and to make you feel safe. I know you may have even seen some really scary things last night?"

"Just heard." Giselle finally admitted. It was something. She didn't see the devastation that had occurred the night before, Gia was grateful she didn't witness what happened to her mother or her aunt.

"Well, it was very smart to hide in the closet. I would have done the same thing." The little girl finally made eye contact with her.

"You would?" Her voice was laced with disbelief.

"Of course I would, anyone would. It was so smart. I know your mom and dad are glad you did." Gia was trying to think of what to say to get this little girl out of the closet and out of the crime scene. It was no place for her.

"You talked to my Daddy?" Gia nodded at her.

"We did, yes. He asked me to take care of you until he gets back." She gave Gia a tentative look. "Your grandfather, the one that used to be a police officer wants to make sure you're safe until then. Do you have think you could let me take you out of here?" The mention of her grandfather must have made the child realize that she could trust Gia because she nodded her head.

"Okay, I'm going to stand up and then when you come out, I'm going to pick you up and carry you out of here. I want you to make sure you close your eyes and don't open them until we get outside, okay?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jesse had saved Gia again. After she got Giselle out of that apartment, she had called him, hoping he was he had gotten Giselle checked out quickly and on their way. He had been great with Giselle. He had mentioned how sorry he was about what had happened with Tyler. She promised to call him so they could get together for for lunch.

They had been at the precinct for a few hours. As far as Gia could ascertain, she had heard a lot of things smashing and breaking before hearing her mother crying. She hadn't heard the gunshot that had killed her Aunt. The neighbor had called 9-1-1.

Five hours later and Giselle's father was finally in the air and Gia was exhausted. Trying to artfully dodged questions for half of her day, which was not easy. She had finally gotten her to eat something, and she had fallen asleep in Gia's lap. Her head was resting on Gia's shoulder. Gia had her head rested against the back of the couch, resisting the urge to fall asleep herself.

There was a growing ache setting in behind her eyes and through her body from the tension of the day. A five year old asks a lot of questions. A scared five year old asked probably ten times more. Gia loved kids, but she wasn't a mother. She could not imagine doing this day in and day out. Having a tiny human hanging on you all day was a lot. She felt overstimulated and overwhelmed, yet, she would kill for a cup of coffee.

She wasn't sure who would get there first, the father or the Grandparents driving in from The Fingerlakes. She just hoped that someone would arrive soon. She would stay as long as it took. This kid trusted her and she wouldn't abandon her.

Her eyes were still closed when she heard the door quietly open and close. She knew it was him by the sound of his steps and the faint linger of his cologne. He sat down next to her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She opened one eye to look at him and he gave her a soft smile.

"I-I'm okay. Just tired and my head hurts and I've had a child hanging on me all day who is scared. I finally got her to eat a Happy Meal."

"I was worried when you didn't text back and then I heard about the case. Then, when I still didn't hear after four hours I decided to come check on you. It's a lot for the first day back. Bribing with junk food. Does that work on you?" She gave a smirk even though her eyes were closed.

"I'm not that easy." As he chuckled, Giselle's head popped up and then so did Gia's. She was staring at Rafael with wide eyes.

"It's okay Giselle. This is my friend Rafael. He's very nice and he came to see how we were doing."

"Like...like the Ninja Turtle?" That made Gia grin.

"Yes, exactly like the Ninja Turtle. Here baby girl, you lay down and I'll tuck you in with your blanket." She gave Rafael a grin at the Ninja Turtle comment.

"You won't leave?" The edge of fear returning to her voice.

"No, not at all. I'm just going to step outside the door to talk to my friend. After that, I just have to use the bathroom and then I'll be back. But you're 100% safe here. Outside that door, is a whole room of my friends, who are police officers and they won't let anyone in here, okay?"

"Okay." Giselle curled up on the couch and Gia covered her up. She fell back to sleep almost instantly. Rafael put his hand out and helped her up. She rolled her neck and groaned in relief at the cracking sound.

"That's not healthy." Rafael mused as he followed her out of the room closing the door behind her.

"How is she?" Nick asked when he saw her emerge. She took a moment to stretch.

"Thankfully, napping. I feel like hammered crap."

"Well you look great." Nick laughed and caught the shoe she threw at him. She had taken the heels off when she had gotten in with Giselle and left them on her chair. She was thankfully wearing stockings.

"This was so not the day to wear a skirt and heels. I figured looking good would give me some confidence." Nick tossed her shoe back to her, giving her an understanding smile.

"Speaking of..." Rafael handed her a bag. It contained his cream colored sweater which had pretty much become hers because she loved it so much, her favorite pair of skinny jeans that were super stretchy and a pair of tan Adidas sneakers. Nick raised an eyebrow, but recognized that it wasn't the time to tease her.

"See, this is why I like him more than you. He brings me solutions." Nick feigned hurt.

"Go, go changed. I brought you coffee. I'll find you something for your headache." He gave her a tiny shove. She was so incredibly grateful for him.

"Thank you." She took the bag and discreetly ran her pinky over his hand as she took the bag. Nick waited until she was out of site before turning to Rafael.

"You look worried." He commented.

"She's okay. She's just tired. She was up a lot last night. I was hoping she'd have an easy day today. I didn't hear from her so I wanted to check on her." Nick raised an eyebrow.

"So, she's still staying with you then. I thought she was going back to her place before she came back." Rafael silently kicked himself for the slip.

"Amaro, I think we both know she can't live there. She just can't let it go because it's a family property."

"And you're her port in a storm. Refuge I'm sure you're more than happy to provide." Nick commented.

"I'm sorry Detective, do we have a problem? It sounds like you think I have ulterior motives."

"Counselor, if I thought that, I wouldn't be so subtle about it. I'm happy you could give her something that I couldn't as a friend. I'm just looking out for her." Nick looked around before continuing. "You two need to disclose." His tone was hushed.

"I already did. This morning with the DA. Gia was getting ready to come in early to talk to Cragen but he called before she even left and obviously didn't get a chance. Don't bring it up to her. She got a lecture from Rollins and Benson in one day. She is going to." Nick nodded.

"I'm the last person to lecture anyone. She's my best friend. She's always had my back. I'm just watching hers." They stopped talking when they heard Gia coming back. Her perfectly poised look had been shattered long ago. At least now she would be comfortable.

Rafael handed her a cup of coffee. Nick walked over and handed her a bottle of ibuprofen. Gia gratefully swallowed 3 pills. Gia took a few long sips of her coffee.

"Have you eaten? That is going to tear apart your stomach." Rafael eyeD her. The last thing she needed was to get sick from not eating.

"I had some French fries. I'll be fine until later." She waved him off.

"Gee, go get some fresh air for a few minutes. I'll keep an eye on Giselle. Just a few minutes. It'll make you feel better." Nick encouraged. He'd be lying if the stress of the day on her didn't worry him too, he thought a quick break would do her some good. She nodded and followed Rafael outside. He led her out the back door so they could get a few moments of privacy.

"Now tell me the truth. Are you really okay?" He had the chance to study her more intently.

"Raf, yes, I promise I'm okay. Truly, just tired and sad. No kid, especially that young, should go through this. How's the mom?"

"She's out of surgery and stable. Still unconscious, but she'll live."

"I'm starting to really understand the difference between living and surviving. Sure you can live through something, but can you truly survive it?" She was looking off in the distance. He studied her profile, she was deep in thought. He moved closer to her and placed his hand on the middle of her back which seemed to snap her out of it and ground her.

"You did." He said after a few quiet moments. She turned her head to look at him.

"Because of you." She admitted. He wanted to tell her it was because of her but he didn't want to interrupt her thought. "You can't survive something like that without someone to help you navigate you through it. With my brother I still felt alone and isolated. With you? I felt seen and understood. How her husband reacts will make all of the difference."

"Make sure you tell him that." Gia nodded. She took a deep breath and raked her hand down her face.

"I should go back in. I don't want her to wake up again alone." Rafael gripped her arm lightly to stop her. Her eyes flicked up to his.

"Just a few more minutes." He murmured. The truth was, he missed her. He just wanted a few more moments alone with her. He wanted her to decompress a little bit longer. He wanted her near him a little bit longer. She closed her eyes as his thumb traced circles on her arm. He watched as the wind blew through her hair. She looked serene in that moment. She slowly opened her eyes and gave him a light smile.

"C'mon Raf, we both have to get back to work." He nodded.

"I know." His hand slid up to her shoulder.

They made their way back inside, she stood close to him for one more moment longer to try and absorb the comfort he always brought her. He kissed her on the temple. Normally, he would never do that in a professional setting, even if everyone did know; but no one could see them where they were.

"I just hope her grandparents are here soon. She needs them. Her father will need them too." She said the last part more to herself.

"Well, she's lucky to have you for the time being." He squeezed her arm lightly one more time before they made their way back into the squad room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gia's body was being decimated by pain. Everything hurt, she just didn't understand why. Giselle had left two hours ago. She had stretched out the stiffness after being hugged and praised by the little girls grandparents. The rest of the squad was out, hitting the streets, leaving Gia to stare at the crime scene photos. She picked up a marker and started making notes on the white board.

Attacker knew wife would be home alone? It seems personal.

He didn't expect the sister to be there, she was killed either out of his surprise or because she knew him too.

Does the wife know who her attacker was?

Why?

She underlined the last word three times. That question would probably unlock the rest of the answers. She sat back down, thinking about the pounding hot water of Rafael's shower easing the pain in her body. She was still tense and it was radiating throughout her body.

"Gia, I thought I told you to go home?" Cragen startled her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, you know, just leaving some homework for the rest of the squad." She gestured to the board.

"And what led you down the path to those questions?" Cragen always enjoyed how her mind worked.

"We obviously know the door was opened for him, no sign of break in, unless he had a key. Either way, it points to him being familiar. The sister was dead, not far from the door, which leads me to believe she was a surprise. The execution style shot? He killed she immediately. She was dead for too long for her to have been killed mid-attack. He took his time with the wife, hours infact. He was angry. This whole scene screams anger to me. He knew the husband wasn't there. I just need another puzzle piece or two." Cragen nodded.

"Well, I'm sure we'll have those pieces soon. I wanted to thank you for today. I know it wasn't fair to ask you to do that." Gia shook her head.

"Passing that child off to social services would have just traumatized her more. She didn't need that, she had enough." Gia started putting her things into her bag.

"Do you want me to have one of the officers drive you home?" Cragen asked. Gia shook her head.

"No, I could use the fresh air." No way was she having anyone drop her off at Rafael's. Cragen had nodded and turned to walk away, but then stopped.

"I, uh, had an interesting call with Jack McCoy." As look of confusion settled over her face, he continued. "Rafael disclosed." He saw a flash of panic cross her face.

"I am so sorry. I was going to come in early and do the same and with everything I forgot." She was so embarrassed. How did Rafael forget to tell her? Then again, she had forgotten completely. It had just been one of those days.

"Don't apologize. You were a little preoccupied. I kind of figured it out, I was just waiting for you to be ready to say something." He wasn't mad. Gia felt relief flooding through her veins. She respected him so much, she didn't want him to think she didn't care.

"You deserve to be happy. You deserve to not have this job be your whole life. Hell, so does Barba. You're too young to lose yourself to all of this. I wish I would have realized it sooner."

"He does, make me happy. I didn't think I'd ever be happy. For a long time I didn't think I deserved it. He...he changed all of that. It won't interfere here, though." Cragen let out a chuckle.

"I didn't think for a moment that it would. Go, get out of here before they come back and you find yourself sucked in again. I think you clocked in enough for your first day back." Gia nodded and headed out. She felt the weight of that nervousness leave her.

She knew Cragen would be fine with it for the most part, but there was always the off chance he wouldn't be. It was that fatherly way about him, at least when it came to her. She couldn't speak to anyone else's experience. He cared about her happiness. It was out there now, no one would have the chance to use it against them.

On her walk home, she had texted Rafael that she was headed to the apartment to take a long shower and to lay down. He had promised he wouldn't be too late and that he would bring dinner with him. She could not wait to wash this day off of her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafael shut the door to his apartment behind him. It was eerily quiet. Gia had looked drained when he had seen her, she had to be exhausted. She was incredibly empathetic, seeing a little girl like that would definitely hit her. He also knew she was close in age to her niece,

He made his way into the bedroom to change and found Gia sprawled out across the bed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. She was on her stomach laying horizontally. Her hair was still damp and slightly covering her face. When she didn't pick her head up to him entering the room, he knew she was asleep.

He smiled slightly and then he got changed. He'd never seen her fall asleep like that. She must have been worn out, but it made him feel something stirring that she felt comfortable enough and safe enough to fall asleep like this on her own.

Gia was close to the pillows so he laid down on his side next to her, pushing her half dry hair off of her face and admired her for a moment. He had never worked so hard to get out of work on time in his life. She made coming home on time worth while. He never had that before. He knew the nature of his job and hers would have them working late, but the incentive to not do so when it wasn't necessary was too good.

He slid his hand under her t-shirt, running circles on her back with his knuckles. He relished in the feeling of her skin. He had his head propped up with his other hand. He didn't want to wake her up, but also, he wanted to wake her up. It was the first day in a long time that he hadn't spoken with her all day.

"Mmmm, that feels really good, my back hurts so bad." He heard her whisper, her eyes still closed. He switched to the heel of his hand and started at the base of her spine and worked his way up. She groaned when he hit the spot in between her shoulder blades. He could feel the knot that was there and he paid extra attention to that spot.

They laid like that for a while as he massaged her back. He chased her hums of approval and he traveled all over her on the hunt to remove her discomfort. When she didn't protest, he moved to massaging below the dip in her lower back. He could feel the rigidity of her muscles. Likely from carrying around a small child all day. When he hit the joint of her tailbone she hissed.

"That hurts?" Her furrowed his brow in concern. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain.

"Yes, but I don't want you to stop. It's helping." He watched her body language as he focused on how she visibly relaxed after he massaged that same spot for a while. After a few moments, she slowly opened her eyes.

"There she is." He smiled softly at her.

"Hi." She greeted him with a smile back. He would be never get sick of eliciting a smile from her.

"Long day?" He had back to rubbing her back lightly, in slow methodical circles.

"Yes, it was incredibly long and terribly devoid of you." She rolled onto her side to face him. She had a hint of a smirk in her eyes.

"Terribly devoid? Sounds awful." His mouth immediately went dry as she hooked her leg over his hip to drag herself closer to him.

She had a playful look in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time. He realized how much he had missed that. The playful banter and teasing. The night the bottom fell out of Gia's life, before all of the bad things happened, they had an amazing time. She had the same glint in her eyes. It thrilled him to see it again. There had been small flashes here and there. Now, it felt like his girl was back. She was his, he finally felt safe admitting it.

He took his hand and ran it from her ankle of the leg she had draped over him and ran it languidly up her calf and then slowly up the back of her bare thigh squeezing it, the hitch in her breath unmistakable. He started massaging her thigh and she closed her eyes, her head tilted back and he leaned in and kissed her neck and he felt her grip his shoulder.

As much as he wanted to slide his hand up the back of her shorts to feel a more intimate part of her, the build up of what was to be the inevitable was too good to give in just yet, even though it was killing him not to. Instead he let his hand travel under her t-shirt over her stomach. Continuing to torture both of them.

The lightness of his touch against her made her jolt slightly. Her stomach was as sensitive and ticklish as her back was. He listened to her breath quicken and his hand was against her rib cage, his thumb tracing around the crease underneath her bare breast. He could feel her body begging him to glide up further to graze her nipple, but he denied her. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, almost begging him to put her out of her misery.

"So you're saying you missed me?" She simply nodded her head, too focused on the feeling of his hands and his mouth on her. She was desperate to pull him closer, if it was even possible. The satisfaction he got out of teasing her was immense. Though he knew she would eventually get payback and he couldn't wait. She let out a squeak of surprise when he flipped her so she was beneath him.

He connected his mouth to hers again in a searing kiss, his teeth grazing the bottom lip that he enjoyed so much. When they finally broke apart, he found himself admiring her. The beauty under the makeup was his favorite look of hers, mostly because it was reserved for him. She had become inhabited for him, only for him.

"Coming home to you like this will never get old." He confessed and she smiled as she ran her hand up his neck and into the hair on the back of his head. He felt his own body explode with goosebumps as her nails lightly grazed his scalp.

"So you're telling me you missed me just as much." She grinned. Beneath her smile, he could see the exhaustion all over her face. He hummed in agreement to her question.

"Probably more. Baby, you look tired." He felt himself internally cringe at the blurting of that cliched expression, afraid she would too; yet it softened the look in her eyes and she kissed him lightly, less needing and more lovingly. He wasn't sure which type he craved more.

Her kiss intensified, but only slightly. Their tongues dancing in unison instead of fighting for dominance, signaling her approval of the term of endearment. He had never used it before, but it had just tumbled out. Something only for her.

"I am exhausted" She resigned in what seemed to be defeat when their lips broke apart again. He slowly moved himself off of her and laid back on his side. He had to, otherwise he was certain his self control was about to snap. She turned just sliding so she could look at him.

"You're okay though? I can't imagine it was easy taking care of five year old all day, but I thought it might stir some emotions up." He slid his hand along the side of her face, gently caressing her cheek.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Truthfully, I woudn't have felt that pang of sadness if there hadn't been things in Giselle that reminded me of Anna. I moved past it quickly though. It wouldn't have been fair to Giselle if I didn't. First day back in months and I was paired up a five year old did me in. They are notoriously exhausting."

"Lots of questions." He mused.

"Kind of like you, actually." She tried to anticipate his response by rolling to her side away from him, but he was too quick and he grabbed her and pulled her flush against him.

"You think you're funny?" She tried to squirm away.

"Is that another question?" She laughed and immediately paid for it as his fingers ghosted her stomach. She let out a full belly laugh. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" She said through laughs. He tortured her for just a few seconds more before kissing her on her cheek and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"C'mon, let's go order dinner. I had texted to see what you wanted but came home when you didn't respond. I figured you fell asleep. We'll eat and then I'll rub your back until you fall asleep. Sound good?"

"That actually sounds amazing." She hated pulling herself from his arms but she was starving and exhausted. He took her hand once they were both standing and led her out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafael set the legal pad he was writing on down on the night stand. He glanced over at Gia who was peacefully asleep. She had fallen asleep on her stomach again. As promised, he got her dinner and then had rubbed her back until she fell back asleep.

He had been preparing notes for his latest case while sitting up in bed. He didn't want to go into his office or the living room and have her wake up alone. He knew that was ridiculous. He knew he was being over protective, but he didn't care. Seeing her so unbothered in her sleep made him smile.

One of her arms was curled under her pillow. Her face was turned towards him, her other arm was near the pillow, but not quite underneath it. Her one leg was bent so they resembled the number four.

"Stop starting, it's weird." He heard her mutter.

"I would call it admiring." He countered. She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly to get used to the light.

"Put the work away counselor, it's late." She reached her hand out towards him.

"It's not that late, it's only 11pm. You just never sleep this much." Even half asleep she rolled her eyes.

"You could at least put the work away and come lay with me if you're going to admire." He laughed and slid down next to her and rolled to his side to face her.

"You, detective, are trouble." She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer.

"Mmmm, but I think you like that." She smiled as she kissed him.

"Maybe..." she kissed him more deeply, hooking her leg around his waist.

"Maybe?" She had moved one of the arms from around his neck and slid it into the back of his hair. She kissed him again tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth.

"Mmm, okay, definitely." She smiled against his lips again. He slid his palm up her thigh, kissing her this time. She tipped her head back so he could kiss her neck.

"Thought so..." she gasped slightly when his teeth grazed her pulse point. The hand in his hair slid down to his shoulders, digging her nails in.

"I am trying so hard to be a gentleman here." He said in her ear.

"Oh I know..." He groaned slightly when she slid her hand up the back of his t-shirt and lightly dragged her nails down his back.

"You are not playing fair..."

"I also know..." she couldn't finish her sentence as she felt his teeth dragged down her ear lobe.

"What was that?" He whispered. They had moved so he was slightly above her, he stared down, brushing the hair out of her face. She was staring at him with an intensity that was filled with emotion. "God, you're beautiful."

"Raf..." he kissed her lightly.

"What do you see in me?" She knew he was serious but it was such a ludicrous question.

"It's your extensive pocket square collection." He let out laugh and rested his forehead against hers.

"C'mon, let's go to sleep. Well, you back to sleep." He reached over and flicked the light off. He expected her to roll over to face the wall. Instead, for the first time ever, she laid her head on his chest, resting her hand on his stomach. He kissed her forehead while laying his hand over hers. He knew, in that moment, he was in love with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gia was back at her desk staring at the questions she had written on the board the night before. She had hoped when she came in that morning that there would have been more information for her to dissect, but there was none.

This was the maddening portion of desk duty, not being able to go out and try to find the answers for yourself. Having to depend on others to relay what you needed to to know. Not that she didn't trust her team, it was just different getting it second hand.

"Hey." Nick's voice pulled her out of her own head and back into the present. "You trying to stare a hole into that white board?"

"More like trying to will the answers to come to me even though I have none of the back work. Did you guys get anywhere yesterday?"

"Other than agreeing with you that this was personal? No."

"How was the husband when you saw him." Nick sighed.

"He seemed appropriately upset." Gia's eyes narrowed.

"You make it sound like an accusation." Nick's eyes wandered across the board for a moment.

"Because I think it is. It seemed, I dunno, too perfect. Does that make sense?" He watched her as she thought for a moment.

"It does. If he's involved, he would have to be distraught. He would know not being so would be a red flag." Nick nodded.

"It seemed to me that he wasn't so much distraught that his wife was attacked and unconscious in a hospital bed. He was distraught his daughter was there." Gia pondered that for a moment.

"Like she wasn't supposed to be." Nick nodded. "I thought the same thing. What if....what if her Aunt was there to pick her up? If she showed up late, stayed for too long or the attacker got the time wrong and got there early..."

"He killed her because she saw him, she knew him." Nick finished.

"But why? Why not abort the plan then? That's what I don't understand." Gia chewed on her inner cheek.

"Probably because the wife wasn't supposed to survive." Nick offered.

"And that leads us back to why. Do you think there's a chance of getting him in here for an interview?" Nick shook his head.

"He's playing the dutiful husband right now. He's not leaving that hospital."

"And Cragen will definitely not let me go to him. I think we need to have someone keep an eye out on her. If he wants her dead..." Gia's voice trailed off.

"You think he's going to try and finish the job while she's in the hospital? I gotta say, it's a bold move."

"If we're right, there is no way he's letting her live long enough to talk. I'm going to start a deep dive into him." Nick nodded his head.

"I'll call Liv on my way to the hospital, fill her in on our theory. You update Cragen." Gia nodded her head in agreement, waving to him without taking her eyes off of her computer.

Gia felt like she had been searching for days and could find nothing questionable on this husband. Had her instincts gone to shit? She needed to find something...anything. She slammed her laptop shut, closed her eyes and rubbed the spot in between her eyebrows.

"That bad Gee?" Fin asked.

"I used to be good at this." She groaned, holding her forehead in one of her hands.

"Oh stop." Nick chided, but he knew being stuck behind that desk was maddening.

Gia's head cocked ever so slightly at the sound of footsteps that it was barely noticeable.

"I need a warrant." She said, without looking up.

"Is that the new greeting you're offering?" Rafael quipped.

"Did...did you know it was him by his footsteps?" Nick's tone had an air of disbelief.

"I literally who it is when each one of you is walking up behind me by how it sounds when you walk. It's a gift."

"A strange one." Rafael laughed. She lifted her free hand up and flipped him off. "I see desk duty is going well."

"Yeah, I'd tread lightly counselor." Nick added. Gia picked her head up and glared at him.

"I will throat punch you." She pointed at him and he threw his hands up in surrender. Nick almost took her seriously.

"So what am I getting a warrant for?" Rafael asked, sitting on the corner of his desk.

"The husband's financials."

"What cause did you find?"

"Um, because I know he's guilty?" Gia scrunched her nose up.

"You...you want me to ask a judge for a warrant because your 'Spidey Sense' says so?" The incredulity of the statement made Gia laugh slightly.

"Fair point." Gia stood up staring at the board again before she sighed. "Maybe I'm wrong." She said more to herself than out loud.

"I think Hell just froze over." Nick joked, but his laugh stifled when Gia spun around with a murderous look on her face.

"Why are you so convinced it's him?" Rafael gently turned her back towards the board.

"It's the sister. That's the piece that is getting me. If this were a random attack...no, they knew him. Whoever did this, they let him in. Also, why only rape the one? The sister was in the way. She was killed immediately.

"Keep going." Rafael encouraged. He agreed with her but they needed something more concrete. This is what she was the best at, the possible scenarios, the possible reasons.

"The rape was personal. Her wounds, her attack all scream personal. It was violent in a way that was intentional. This wasn't a crime of convenience. And this guy, he knew where all of the cameras were. There isn't even a clear shot of him on a street cam. I checked every single one, twice. This? This was anger. She made someone angry. This was revenge, it was wrathful." She was talking to him, but it was her working through her thoughts.

"Okay, so it was someone who was angry with her but why are you so set on the husband?" He could see it was on the tip of her tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment and he knew she was visualizing the crime scene. She had seen enough of it when she met Cragen there. Then her eyes popped open.

"Giselle." Gia finally said. "Her father was shocked that his child was in that apartment. I talked to him on the phone yesterday. He expected her not to be home. He expected his sister-in-law to have not been in that apartment. She was there to pick up Giselle."

"We talked about that this morning." Nick mused. "You thought the attacker either showed up early or that the sister was late, or stayed longer than planned." Gia's eyes flickered to Cragen who was standing in the doorway listening.

"You're on to something. Gia, you need a break. You've been staring at that computer all day. Go home."

"What? I don't need to go home! Liv and Amanda aren't even back yet." They had gone back to the hospital to try and work on the husband some more.

"They got nothing. He's coming in tomorrow. Sara's other sister is here. She's going to stay with her while he comes in to help with our investigation. So I want you to go home, get some sleep because I want you watching every second of that interview. Staying here, arguing with Amaro isn't going to get you anywhere." Gia sighed in defeat. She knew she wasn't going to win this argument.

"Go on Gee, we're all going to be leaving in a little bit anyway." Fin added. He knew she felt guilty leaving them all there and leaving first.

"Wait, so you called him so I'd put up less of a fight?" She motioned to Rafael.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Detective Monroe. I'll see you in the morning" Cragen yelled the last line as he walked back into his office.

Gia grabbed her bag, stuffed her laptop into it and threw it over her shoulder and yanked her coat off the back of her chair and marched past Rafael and out of the door.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Nick shook his head. "She has been rough today. She was okay this morning but it went downhill really quickly. Usually we joke, something is eating at her." Rafael looked towards the path where Gia had stormed out.

"Thanks Amaro."

Rafael had to almost jog to catch up with her. He knew her coming back would be hard for her. He had hoped her first few days would be easy. He finally caught up to her and grabbed the crook of her arm. She tried to yank it away but he would let her.

"Hey, c'mon."

"You can't do that Rafael. Come and collect me like I'm your child at daycare."

"It's not like that. You know it's not like that. Cragen called me because you've been on edge all day and he thought maybe a friendly face would make you feel better." She deflated and let out a groan of frustration.

"I feel crazy. I'm up and down. I was so happy last night. The more I spent looking at those pictures, how violent that attack was. Not being able to actually do my job fully? I'm angry."

"Of course you're angry. You went through an incredibly violent attack. You didn't even get to ease into it and are knee deep in someone else's incredibly violent attack."

"Rafael, what if I can't do this job anymore?"

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself? You can still do this job. You just have to get your footing. You just put together a solid theory based on studying just the crime scene. I'm begging you to stop being so hard on yourself. Your confidence will come back." He tugged her a little closer, taking her coat off of her arm. He pulled her bag off of her shoulder and held her coat open to help her slide into it before putting her bag back on her arm. "It's cold." He added.

"I'm sorry Raf." She pinched the bridge of her nose. She was so frustrated, mostly with herself. She felt like screaming.

"Please stop apologizing to me. You have nothing to apologize for." She slid her hand down his tie and gently pulled him closer to kiss him. It took him by surprise for a moment. Even though they had officially disclosed she hadn't wanted to be so open about it. He didn't know what changed her mind, but he was happy that she had. He didn't ever want to hide her. He kissed her back, running his thumb over her bottom lip when they broke apart.

"Thank you, for taking such good care of me Rafael."

"I will always take care of you." Her face filled with an emotion that he couldn't quite read. She opened her mouth to say something, but she quickly shut it. He smiled at her and kissed her again. He put his arm around her shoulder and led her down the sidewalk. "Come On Cariña, let's go home.