#i already know everything that happens but playing it yourself is always a thousand times better than just watching

[ghostorbz]

Stayed up all night and for what. I want a hot pocket

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[enwoso]

heyyyy i absolutely love the grumpy universe and i was wondering if your comfortable with writing it, could we get a fic of lovie meeting her dad or him reaching out to alessia to meet her?

A BRIDGE TO CROSS | alessia russo x child!reader

wow this is a long one, so i hope when reading this your comfy! i did decide to put the flashback in here and if any other questions arise from please ask away. also lovie’s not really in this one till later on, its more focused on alessia for once rather than lovie — but don’t worry she’s in it a little later on.

all that’s left from me is to say enjoy!

grumpy masterlist

a late afternoon sun spilled through the windows of alessia's kitchen, painting the room in a soft glow. the hum of life surrounding her as she answered a few work emails she hadn't had a chance to reply to yet while nursing a cup of now warm coffee.

you, sat across the living room floor, in alessia's eyeline from the open plan area as you hummed off-key with crayons sprawled across the floor. the floor being a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched papers, open markers and alessia's worst enemy at the moment, glitter glue.

alessia had been trying to focus on the emails from her agency on upcoming media appearances and events but her gaze kept drifting to her phone which sat beside her coffee mug like a ticking time bomb.

the message had arrived out of nowhere, a text message from harrison reed, her ex boyfriend from college who also happened to be your biological father.

alessia didn't even have the slightest idea on how he could of managed to get her phone number, it being reserved for only those closest to her. it had been years since she'd even though about hearing from him and yet, there it was. five words long.

(maybe harrison) | ‘i want to meet her.’

the words sat heavy in her chest, replaying over and over in her mind. she'd read the message half a dozen times already, trying to decode its intent. trying to figure out if it was genuine or another empty promise she'd have to shield her daughter from.

across the room, you were a picture of joy. your own little personality as you chatted away to yourself. you were drawing again, as always, your tiny hands gripping a purple crayon.

alessia smiling to herself faintly as she watched you press on the paper a little too hard as your tongue stuck out in concentration.

"mummy, look!" you chirped up as you sat up onto your knees holding up your creation, a stick figure with wild hair standing beside a lopsided house. "it's you and me!"

alessia chuckled softly, setting her coffee down to admire the drawing, "it's beautiful lovie, your getting to be quite the artist!”

you beamed as your face lit up, "i'm going to draw esme next" you announced grabbing the elephant teddy with such enthusiasm.

alessia leaned back on the seat she was sat at, her heart tightening. you were everything to her. she'd fought so hard to you a life filled with love and to shield you from the shadows of the past.

and now, he wanted to come back. and alessia was sure if she could trust him, especially not after how he reacted when she told him.

five years ago.

alessia was sat on the edge of the bathtub in her cramped dorm bathroom, the stick trembling in her hand. she had re-read the result at least ten times. her chest tightening with every glance at the small plus sign.

pregnant.

pressing a hand to her mouth, willing herself not to cry. but her thoughts raced: she was nearly four thousand miles away from home, her scholarship, her dreams of playing professionally.

everything she had spent years working for felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter was what jolted her out of her spiralling thoughts. it was him, harrison. staring a the screen as her stomach twisted in knots.

she hadn't even told him she'd been late this month. he didn't know she'd been panicking all week, buying test after test after practice and waiting for her dorm to be empty before she even dared to use it.

taking a deep breath, she pressed the green button, answering him. "hey less," harrison said his voice easy and light, "what's up?"

her throat felt dry, but she forced the words out, "can you come over? i need to talk to you"

"sure, is everything okay?"

"just..come over- please harrison"

alessia had met harrison through a party in her first year at the unc campus, he a bit like her had a athlete scholarship but his was for football not soccer.

the two had been off and on for a few months before they became official at the end of her freshman year.

the two were a good couple, harrison looked out for alessia and she thought she loved him but maybe that was just because he was her first love — he definitely wasn't the one for her.

when harrison showed up fifteen minutes later, his hoodie pulled up against the chilly evening air, a plastic bag no doubt filled with snacks he'd grabbed from the local store.

alessia sat in the edge of her bed, her hands wriggling nervously in her lap. harrison leaned against the doorframe, his expression puzzled by the shear look on his girlfriends face.

"alright, what's going on? you look like you've seen a ghost" his american accent cutting through the room like a knife. alessia looking up at him as she tried to think of the best way to say it.

biting her lip as her heart pounded in her chest. she didn't know how to start so she just held up the pregnancy test, her hands trembling.

harrison froze, his easy and chilled demeanour evaporating, "is that...?"

she nodded, "i'm pregnant" she said it barely coming out above a whisper.

he scoffed, as he stared at her his face totally unreadable. before he laughed a short, disbelieving sound. "your joking right, like this is one of those weird youtube pranks?" he asked spinning his head around to look around for a camera.

"it's not a joke harrison."

his expression immediately changed, "you can't be serious less, we're still in college. we aren't ready for this-"

"do you not think i don't already realise that!" she snapped, her voice breaking, "do you think i haven't thought about how this is going to change everything?"

harrison let out a loud sigh as he paced the small room, "so.. what are you going to do?" he asked as alessia glanced at him with a blank expression, "you're not actually planning on keeping it, are you?"

alessia's stomach churned at his words, "it's not 'it" harrison. it's a baby, our baby."

he stopped, his face paling, "less you've got a scholarship, you've got a great future ahead of you, you can't throw it away for this?"

her voice wavered, but she stood her ground. "i haven't decided yet, but if i keep the baby, it's not 'throwing my future away'"

harrison shook his head, his tone a lot colder now, "you're not thinking straight. just figure it out.. alright and let me know what you decide."

and without another beat or word, harrison left. leaving alessia alone in the suffocating silence.

—

it had been two weeks since alessia had found out she was pregnant and the decision of what to do had been weighing on her both mentally and physically.

she'd hardly slept, her thoughts consumer by the enormity of what was ahead. but after breaking silence with her family and them offering her their undying support.

with many sleepless nights on the phone to her mum, she knew what she wanted. for both her and her baby.

she was going to keep the baby.

the clarity didn't make facing harrison any easier. she had spent the morning rehearsing in her head what to say, trying to figure out what his reaction would be.

arriving at his dorm, it not being too far of a walk from hers. hesitantly she lifted her hand hovering over the door before finally knocking.

harrison answered quickly, his expression guarded, "hey, you alright?" he asked pulling the blonde into a side hug as he kissed the top of her head.

"can..we talk?" alessia asked, stepping to the side to sit on the couch before he could respond. not wanting to give herself the chance to back out.

he closed the door behind her, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall, he knew exactly what the conversation was about to be had. "so have you figured it out?"

alessia frowned at the casual tone in his voice as if this wasn't a serious conversation but she forced herself to stay calm knowing an argument right now would not be the best thing, "yeah i have. i'm keeping the baby."

harrison's eyes widened briefly clearly not the answer he was hoping or expecting as his brow furrowed deeper. "less, come on. think for a moment. your only twenty, we're still in college. your finally getting noticed by the senior teams, and football is going well for me. you can't seriously think this is a good idea-"

her jaw tightened, "it's my decision, harrison. i've thought about it and this is what i want. i'm keeping my baby"

he scoffed, running a hand through his hair, "are you hearing yourself right now. how are you supposed to raise a kid at your age, it's insane less"

"i'll figure it out" alessia snapped her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. "i have my family. i don't need you to like it, harrison. but i just need you to know this is happening"

he stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening as he let out a loud sigh, "look i'm not ready for this" he said his voice cold and clipped. "i can't be a dad, less. not yet anyway"

alessia felt something in her chest pang, the hurt cutting a littler deeper than she expected. but beneath the pain a fierce determination began to take roots she straightened her back meeting his gaze head on.

"ok" she said shrugging, her voice steady, "if you don't want to be involved, you won't be. but know this, my baby deserves better than someone who walks away when things get hard."

harrison opened his mouth as if to argue, but alessia shook her head stopping him. not wanting her hear anything else from the boy.

"i don't want anything from you, harrison. not your money, not your time, nothing. from now we're done. me and my baby won't have anything to do with you."

her words hung in the air like a challenge and for a moment alessia thought he may change his mind, say something and protest her stern words.

but he didn't, he just sighed shoving his hands into his pockets, "if that's what you want"

alessia's heart ached at his indifference, the memories built flooding into her mind but she refused to let him see her cry. without another word she turned and walked out of his dorm door.

walking along the dimly lit door corridor, the cool air hitting her face as she let out a shaky breath. a wave of reality hitting her like a brick as tears pricked at her eyes but she quickly wiped them away angrily.

"i promise we'll be better without him" she whispered to herself, placing a protective hand over her stomach.

in that moment, alessia made a silent promise to herself and her unborn baby: she would give them a life filled with love and supports. they mightn't have their father to turn to but they would never feel unloved.

and alessia would make sure of it.

that evening, alessia was sat in the familiar comfort of her parents' living room. her hands curled around a mug of tea. the walls were adorned with family photos — memories of holidays, birthdays and days out which were always loud and full of love.

it had always been her safe haven, but tonight, it felt anything but safe.

you had spent the evening in the kitchen with your nonna, helping to make dinner which had been a favourite of yours. making faces on everyone's pizzas with the toppings.

you were now in dream land having difted to sleep in your mummy's arms as you watched the tv.

alessia's parents, mario and carol as well as her older brothers gathered around her each wearing a different expression after hearing the news of who was back.

mario sat forward in his chair, elbows on him knees as his brow furrowed in deep though. carol was perched on the couch beside alessia as she gave a comforting hand on her knee in quiet support.

while her brothers, giorgio and luca across the room sat side by side with their arms crossed and a protective energy glowing from them almost tangible.

alessia's dad broke the silence first, his voice steady but soft. "so to get it straight, after four years, harrison out the blue wants to meet tiny?"

alessia nodded, her hands tightening around her mug. "that's what he says, somehow he got my number and messaged me yesterday"

"but he hasn't been around at all" luca's voice was sharp cutting through the air like a blade, "so why are we even having this conversation. his actions speak louder than his words"

alessia hummed, she knew exactly what her brother was saying, heck she felt the same way. but for some reason the decision felt like such a difficult one.

her mum, carol sighed, giving alessia's hand a reassuring squeeze, "darling, i know this is complicated but.. maybe he's realised he made a mistake. people do change you know"

mario nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful, "exactly what your mum says, it sounds like he's trying to take responsibility. and as much as you maybe wish it wasn't true but harrison is her father and she deserves the chance to know that"

alessia bit her lip, torn between her parents clam logic and her brothers silent fury. she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to believe harrison had changed that he could finally be the father figure you deserved but despite her parents words, alessia knew harrison better than them.

and she didn't know if she was exactly ready to gamble with your heart.

"you really think he deserves a chance, dad?" alessia asked still hesitant.

mario nodded slowly, "i do, i'm not saying forgive him overnight but you could always meet with him, if he's in london and talk to him. see if he's serious. if he's willing to show up for her now — that has to count for something."

a loud scoff could be then heard from luca, his arms tightening across his chest. "count for what? a pat on the back for finally doing what he should've been doing for the past four years-"

carol gave her eldest son a sharp look, "luca. don't make this harder than it already is for your sister."

but luca was unmoved in his opinion, "but mum, he walked away when less needed him most! and now he thinks he can just waltz back in like nothings happened!"

gio, who had been quieter of the two brothers, decided to add his opinion. his voice firm, "and what happens if he decides it's too hard for him and disappears again? think about what that'll do to lovie. she's too young to understand why her dad didn't stick around the first time."

alessia's throat tightened, like she was going to either be sick or pass out or maybe both. she'd had the same thoughts running through her mind all day.

"boys" mario said sharply cutting through the clear tension which was building. his tone carrying the weight of authority. "this isn't about us, it's about what's best for y/n and if harrison is serious don't you think she deserves to know him?"

luca scoffed, "only if he's serious," luca snapped sharply, "and that's a big if."

carol turned back to alessia, her expression softer now, "what do you think darling? do you believe he's changed?"

alessia let out a shaky breath, setting her mug down on the coffee table careful not to wake you as you slept peacefully in her arms. "i don't know mum, part of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt but i can't risk lovie getting hurt. she's happy and she doesn't even know what's she missing."

"which is exactly why you should be careful," gio firmly said, her voice protective not only of his sister but also of his niece. "she doesn't know him. if you let him in and he screws up — she's the one whose going to get hurt and confused, not him."

the room fell into a tense silence, alessia's parents and brothers were split down the middle — her dad and mum urging caution but also the fact everyone deserves a second chance while her brothers were both adamant that harrison definitely wasn't even worthy of considering the opportunity.

finally mario broke the stalemate, "less, we can sit here and go back and forth but at the end of the day it's your decision. tiny is your daughter and whatever you choose, we'll support you.

alessia nodded slowly, her eyes stinging with she'd tears. she appreciated their support but it didn't make the decision any easier.

glancing down at your sleeping figure in her arms as you clutched the side of her hoodie in your hands, soft breaths coming from your lips. her heart aching as she thought about your bright, innocent and trusting smile.

whatever she decided, it had to be for your sake.

—

it was a few days since she'd been at her parents, going over her options and she was still no further forward on what to do so as she sat lying on her bed it was late and the house was quiet, you tucking up peacefully in bed and the world was quiet, but alessia's mind was anything but.

so as she lay on facetime to someone she hoped would be able to give her an honest and brutal opinion and not sugar coat it.

"so after four years he's just reached out, that's mad less" ella's thick accent came through the speaker as her brows furrowed as she adjusted the angle of her phone

alessia sighed running a hand through her freshly washed hair, "tell me about it. it's like where has he suddenly gotten the change of heart come from. i don't know if i can trust him, el"

ella's face softened, her usual playful smirk replaced with genuine concern, she'd seen the fallout after what happened. the state the blonde had been in when she came home from the states six months pregnant.

she was the only one who really knew the whole story. whether that was from late night chats or drunken confessions after one too many on a team night out.

"i mean i don't blame you, after all you've brought her up on your own. you've played both parents and he's just been.. well not here"

"exactly," alessia said her voice tight, "and now he want to meet her" alessia huffed expressing the same concerns about letting harrison back into your life like she did with her parents.

ella shifted, propping herself up on her elbows, "it normal that your feeling worried, but.. what if he's serious this time? people can change less. don't you think tiny deserves the chance to know her dad, even if it's just to see for herself what he's like?"

alessia frowned leaning back against the headboard of her bed. "but that's the thing, she's doesn't even know he exists. she's happy el and i've worked so hard to keep my promise to her and give her a good life"

"i know you have less," ella said softly, "but.. what if one day after school she asks about him. what are you going to tell her? that you wouldn't give him the chance"

alessia groaned quietly, covering her face with her hands. part of her wishing he had never even sent the message and then she wouldn't be in such a split state of mind. "i don't know! that's why i'm calling you. i don't know what to do."

ella was quiet for a moment, her expression deep in thought. "look i get your scared, heck i don't know sometimes how you manage everything you do. but i also know how much you love that little girl. you always put her first and this is no different."

ella paused as alessia nodded, hearing her best friend loud and clear, "maybe the answer isn't about trusting him— it's about trusting yourself. you'll know if it's the right thing to do."

alessia let out a small laugh, as she looked at the camera, "you make it sound so simple"

ella laughed lightly, "it's not simple, far from it. it's messy as hell. but your so strong, less. you've handled everything else life thrown at you and you'll handle this too. just.. don't rush it. start small and let him prove himself."

alessia let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing a little, "you really think i should give him a chance?"

ella's eyes softened as she let out a sigh, "i think you should do what feels right for tiny. but yeah maybe, give him a shot. if he messes up you'll know and you'll handle it. your her mum and there's no better at protecting her than you"

for the first time in a couple days a small smile tugged at alessia's lips, "thanks el, i don't know what i'd do without you."

ella grinned, her usual cheeky grin as her playful energy returned, "you'd probably just sit overthinking everything. good thing i'm always here to knock some sense into you"

alessia laughed, shaking her head, "your an idiot"

"and yet you still love me for it!" ella winked before stifling a yawn. "right go and get some sleep. you've got enough in your plate without being a total zombie tomorrow."

"and less," ella paused grabbing the blondes attention as she shuffled around her bed, "i'm proud of you" ella smiled softly as the two shared an understanding nod, knowing exactly what the other was saying without having to say a word.

"goodnight, el" alessia smiled her voice softer

"night, less. you've got this! oh, and give my favourite little russo a kiss from her auntie ella, i miss her” ella added with a pout as a small giggled came from alessia as she nodded telling her best friend she would do just that.

as the screen went dark, alessia leaned back against her pillows, staring up at the ceiling as ella's words replayed in her mind. for the first time since harrison's message, she felt the faintest flicker of clarity.

—

the cafe was small and tucked into a quiet corner of london, the last thing alessia wanted was for this to be in every media outlet going. so she chose a discreet location somewhere she wouldn't usually go.

the bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside, clutching her coat tightly around her. her eyes scanning the room until she saw him: harrison reed.

sat at a table by the window, his hands wrapped around what looked to be some sort of health smoothie filled with all the healthy greens.

his hair a little shorter than she remembered, not the messy moon of curls it was back in college as well as the light subtle on his jaw. a black shirt covering him as his arms where on show a lot more tattoos coving his arms than the blonde could recall from back in college.

he looked nervous — his knee bouncing under the table, his fingers tapping against the plastic cup. when he saw her, he stood quickly unsure what to do or how to greet the blonde so he stuck his hands into his pockets.

"alessia" he said his voice tentative.

alessia just gave him a curt nod as she forced herself to take a steadying breath. she walked towards him, her heart pouring in her chest.

as she reached the table, sliding into the seat across from him without a word, her posture rigid and far from relaxed.

harrison sat down slowly, his movements careful as if he was afraid of scaring her off. for a moment neither of them spoke. alessia kept her arms crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on him like a shield.

"do you want a dri-" harrison began but was quickly shut off by the blonde shaking her head, "-no, i'm not staying long. i have to pick lovie up at three"

the blonde glanced down at the time on her phone, thirty minutes. that it all she had to do was listen to him for thirty minutes. she could do that.

harrison just nodded, "well thanks for uh, meeting me" harrison finally said, stuttering over his words.

alessia's lips pressed into a thin line. "you said it was important."

he nodded, his eyes flickering to the smoothie in front of him before returning to her. "it is. i've.. i've been thinking about this for a while. reaching out, i mean. i know it's been too long. way too long"

her jaw tightened, "four years harrison. you haven't said anything in four years. you didn't even say anything after i went out my way to send you a message the day she was born"

he flinched slightly at the sharpness in her tone, guilt washing over his face. "i-i know i didn't and i hate myself for it alessia. i wasn't ready back then. i was..scared, stupid and i thought walking away was the right thing to do because i didn't think i could handle it."

alessia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "the right thing? you left me to do it all alone, i was terrified too but i didn't get the luxury of running away"

alessia paused for a moment her voice a little shaky as she took a deep breath, "i had to figure it out alone — for her"

harrison's face fell as his hands tightened around the plastic cup, "i've let you down, both of you. and i know i'll never be able to make up for that. but i've changed alessia. i'm not the same selfish idiot i was back then"

she arched an eyebrow, skepticism radiating from her as she let out a scoff, "and now you try think you can just walk into her life and everything will be sunshine and rainbows? do you even understand what you're asking?"

harrison hesitated as his gaze dropped to the table, alessia continuing voicing her frustration, "and what happens when you go back to america"

harrison's head picked back up as he shook it, "i- i live here now. i have for the past year and a bit... football didn't work out for me not like the.. the way it did for you. i erm work for marketing firm now, the hours are long but it works" he shrugged and alessia nodded talking in the new information.

it didn't change a lot but it definitely changed something. harrison wasn't going to go away after a few months, especially now, not since he lived here too. alessia couldn't just forget him like she did before when he lived across the world.

"and i can't sit here and pretend to understand what it's been like for you. but i know i want to try. i want to be there for y/n even if it's just a small part. she deserves to know her dad"

the mention of your name coming from his lips made alessia's heart ache. your bright smile flashing in her mind, your endless curiosity and infectious laughter.

"she doesn't even know you exist" alessia said quietly, her voice cracking slightly, you had never really asked but alessia knew with each month that passed it was only a matter of time till you did. "she's happy and i've worked so hard to give her a life full of love and stability. i won't let you ruin that.

harrison's eyes filled with remorse, "i’m not here to ruin anything. i just want a chance. if i could erase the past i would in a heartbeat. but i know i can show up now. so please alessia, let me try and prove myself to you."

she studied for a long moment, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. there was a desperation in his eye but also something else — determination maybe even hope.

"this isn't about you." she said finally, her voice steady. "this is about it her and if you're not serious, if you mess this up. i'll never forgive you.

harrison nodded quickly, his expression earnest. "i understand and i swear i'm serious. i'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

alessia leaned back in her chair as her arms still crossed tightly. she wasn't ready to trust him, not yet, but she couldn't ignore the tiny voice in her head whispering 'what if he has changed?' 'what if this is his change to be the dad you deserve'

after a long pause, she sighed, "i need time to think about this and i'm not making any promises harrison."

"of course," he said quickly, a flash of shock going over his features at the blondes response, "take all the time you need, i'll wait."

she stood, reaching for her coat "this isn't just about meeting her. if i let you in, you have to stay. no backing out when things get hard. no disappearing acts and if you can't promise that then we might as well not even bother"

harrison rose to his feet, his posture uncertain but hopeful, "i promise alessia. i have a life here, i live here and have a steady job i promise i'm not going anywhere."

she didn't respond, simply pulling her coat tighter around herself as she nodded mumbling a quick "i'll be in touch" as she headed towards the door.

as she stepped outside and closer to her car in the cold air, she felt a swirl of emotions: anger, fear and deep down a faintest flicker of hope.

—

a few weeks had passed since alessia had met harrison in that cafe. after a few days of going back and forth with the idea and a few more conversations with her mum and ella.

she decided to give him the chance to know his daughter. giving harrison a call, him answering pretty much straight away his voice filled with hope as alessia asked when he would next be free along with another warning of the risk she was taking.

which lead to this warm sunday, and for once where alessia didn't have a match. the team having played on the friday night. as alessia and you walked through your local park which was only a short walk from your house.

the playground at the park was alive with laughter and the squeals of children running around in every direction.

alessia stopped for a moment as she leaned down to tie your shoelace again for you, standing back up as she gripped the straps of her bag tightly.

feeling her stomach churn as she glanced towards a bench in the distance, where harrison was sitting. his posture stiff as he sat with his hands clasped together.

beside her, you tugged at her hand excitedly. the eyes of your hair slightly curled bouncing up and down as you pointed towards the swings.

"mummy! can we go on the swings first?" you asked, your voice brimming with nothing but energy.

alessia forced a smile as she leant down to your level, "in a bit we can lovie, but first there's someone i would like you to meet"

your head tilted the side, curiosity filling your features as you wondered who it could be, "who?"

alessia swallowed hard, her throat dry, "he's... someone who would like to get to know you. his name is harrison"

before you could ask any more questions, alessia straightening up as her gaze met harrison's. he was already looking over, waving alessia over as she could sense his nervous energy practically radiating from him.

alessia taking your hand and starting to walk towards him, her heart pounding with every step.

as they approached, harrison offered a small and tentative smile. "hi y/n" he said softly, his voice careful and gentle not wanting to overwhelm you.

you looked at him, your big blue eyes wife with curiosity as you clutched your mummy's hand a little tighter. your usual boldness momentarily replaced with shyness. "hi," you said after a pause, you voice quiet and timid.

alessia crouched down before you, her hand staying tightly in yours, "lovie, this is harrison" she said her voice calm but steady. "and he's.. your dad"

your brow furrowed slightly, her head tilting as you processed your mummy's words, "my dad?" you repeated, your gaze flicking between your mummy and harrison.

"yes" alessia said softly, "he's been away for a little while, but he wants to get to know you"

harrison leaned forward, putting himself a little closer to you. he looked hesitant unsure if he should speak but when you didn't back away, he took a deep breath.

"it's nice to finally meet you, y/n." he said his voice warm and welcoming, "your mummy has told me so many wonderful things about you."

you stared at him for a moment, your little button nose scrunching up as you studied his face. finally you asked, "but why weren't you here before?"

the question hit like a punch to the gut and alessia felt her breath get caught in her throat as she looked at harrison waiting to see how he would respond.

harrison's face softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. "that's a good question" he said gently. "the truth is, i made a mistake. a pretty big one and i wasn't there when i should've been and i'm really really sorry for that"

you blinked, your expression still curious but no longer as guarded as you were, "so.. but your not going away now?"

harrison's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, "no kiddo, i’m not going anywhere. and if you'll let me i would really like to spend time with you and get to know you"

alessia felt her chest tighten at the raw emotion in his voice. she looked down at you whose gaze was fixed on harrison and after a long moment you nodded slowly.

"okay" you said simply.

harrison's face lighting up with relief, his smile genuine and warm, "okay" he echoed softly.

you turned back to look at your mummy, your usual energy returning. "can i show him the swings, mummy? i'm really good at swinging high!"

alessia hesitated for a moment, her protective instincts warring slightly with the tentative hope stirring in her chest. finally she nodded, "of course lovie. go on"

you grabbed harrison's hand without hesitation, pulling him towards the swings with the same confidence you had with everyone you trusted.

alessia watching as harrison followed you, his movements careful but not awkward. he listened to you chattering about your favourite colours and how you someday when you get older would like a puppy like your auntie beth and steph.

by the time you reached the swings, you had clearly decided that harrison was worth your attention. you climbed onto the swing and your legs were kicking in anticipation.

"push me! but not too high!" you instructed your voice filled with authority.

harrison chuckled, a sound alessia hadn't heard in years. it bringing back memories of the two of them when they were sit and laugh in their dorms about things that probably weren't even funny.

"you got it kiddo!"

as harrison gently pushed on the swing, your laughter filled the air, bright and unrestrained. alessia stood by the bench watching them with a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her.

for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this could work.

—

the sun had dipped lower in the sky as they walked home, the soft golden light casting long shadows on the pavement of the three.

you skipping happily ahead, holding your mummy's hand with one of her own while the other clutched the small daisy harrison had plucked for her from the park.

you hadn't stopped talking since they left, your excitement bubbling over as you recounted every little thing about your day.

harrison walked in the other side of alessia, his hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, clearly not well adjusted to the cool breeze that london brings once the sun had lowered.

his steps were measured as his gaze drifted towards you every so often as if he couldn't quite believe you were real and part his blood.

when they reached the driveway of your home, you running straight to the door as your mummy came up behind unlocking it for you to rush inside the warmth, kicking your shoes off before turning to the door seeing your mummy and har- your daddy still stood at the door way.

"are you coming inside daddy?" you asked so innocently with a big toothy grin.

the words so simple as daddy, landed like a punch and a hug all at once. alessia's heart clenching and she saw the way harrison froze, his eyes widening for just a moment before he crouched down to your level.

"not today, y/n" he said gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. remembering about what alessia had said about boundaries and wanting to respect them. "but i'll see you soon, and maybe we can go to a soft play"

you pouted slight but your expression softened when harrison added, "i promise i’ll be back, pinky swear?" he held out his pink and you giggled as you wrapped yours around his, "pinky swear!"

satisfied with the answer you were given, you turned and tugged at your mummy's arm, "can i have a snack now, mummy?"

alessia smiled, brushing a faint curl from your face, "go on inside and wash your hands first lovie, i'll be through in a moment"

you nodded, bouncing your way inside and making a beeline for the kitchen as you held your daisy tight in your hand.

as you bounced down the hallway, the world seemed to grow quieter. alessia turning back to harrison after making sure you went were you should be, crossing her arms instinctively over her chest.

for a long moment, they stood there, the late afternoon casting a soft flow over their faces.

harrison shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, his hands still buried inside his coat pockets, "she's.. amazing" he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

alessia's lips twitched into a small smile despite herself. "she is, i've worked hard to make sure she has a good life"

"and you've done an incredible job" harrison said honestly, his eyes meeting alessia's. "she's so clever, so confident. that's all you"

alessia felt her guard waver, but she quickly steadied herself, "not just me. my family and my friends. she's surrounded by people who shower her with love" her gaze hardened slightly, "people who've been there since day one."

harrison flinched but nodded, he knew it was coming. his jaw tightened, "yeah, i deserve that one," he admitted quietly.

"i know i let you down less- alessia. both of you. and i don't expect forgiveness overnight but i would like to there for her now, and you if you ever need me. however you'll let me" harrison smiled softly, alessia taking in his words, letter by letter.

alessia studied him, her expression unreadable, "your really asking me to fully trust you, after four years of nothing."

"yeah" harrison said quietly, his voice was steady despite the weight of alessia's words. "but not just for me, but for her. i'll do whatever it takes to prove that i'm serious this time."

her lips pressed together into a thin line as she considered him, the sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore but the scars of the past were fresh and the last few days had opened more than alessia care to admit.

"we'll see" she said finally, her voice cool but not dismissive, "you've got a long way to go harrison. don't make me regret this."

he nodded, a small but grateful smile tugging at his lips, "i won't, i promise"

for a minute, the weight of their shared history hung between them — everything left unsaid, every moment lost. then alessia took a small step back her hand resting lightly on the door handle.

"goodnight, harrison."

"goodnight, alessia. message me once you've had time to think!"

she slipped inside and close the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she let out a shaky breath.

your laughter echoing from the kitchen, no doubt in alessia's mind that you were making soap bubbles while you washing your hands and alessia felt the faintest glimmer of hope pierce through the wall of doubt surrounding her heart.

[baelabong]

ꜰᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇ

(ɪᴅᴏʟ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ x ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

plot: being an actress was hard. not the job itself but rather the worry of having to come home to a sulky girlfriend

warnings/notes: jealous mj, lowkey toxic IF YOU SQUINT, male mentioned…..

you’re standing there on the stage, lights flashing from every direction, and the crowd is going wild. you and byeon woo seok, side by side, holding the “couple of the year” award like it’s the most natural thing in the world. the audience is clapping so hard you can barely hear yourself think, but you don’t need to think. you’ve done this a thousand times—smile, pose, play the part.

you shift your weight slightly, leaning into woo seok just enough for the cameras to catch the moment. “we really did it,” you whisper, voice soft enough to be drowned out by the cheers, but he hears you. you’re both used to these little moments by now—playing the perfect couple for the world to see.

“told you we would,” he responds smoothly, flashing that charming grin of his, the one that always makes the fans go crazy. as he pulls you closer, his arm casually wrapping around your waist, you keep the smile up. nothing too over the top, just enough to sell the chemistry the media loves. you both know this game inside out.

then it’s time for the acceptance speech, and you let him take the lead. he starts off with the usual thanks—production team, the director, the fans. he’s good at this, the right mix of serious and charming. when it’s your turn, you step forward, and without missing a beat, you slip into character.

“i honestly don’t know how i got so lucky,” you say, glancing at woo seok like he’s the best thing that ever happened to you. it’s all for the cameras, but the way you say it feels real enough. you’ve got to give the people what they want. woo seok smiles back, playing along effortlessly. “working with him was… a lot of fun,” you add, letting a playful smile tug at your lips. “i guess spending so much time together on set paid off.”

the crowd eats it up. the flashes keep coming, and you can almost hear the headlines writing themselves: perfect couple, on-screen and off.

but then—buzz. you feel your phone vibrate in your clutch. you ignore it at first, focus on the speech, on the cameras, on the thousands of eyes watching your every move. but when the moment comes to step back, you glance down just to check. it’s minjeong. you swipe open the message: congrats on the award… you looked good with him.

great. you try not to let it show, but your smile slips for just a second before you catch yourself. no one else notices—not woo seok, not the crowd—but you know exactly what that text means. minjeong’s watching, and she’s not loving what she’s seeing.

you quickly slip the phone back into your bag, telling yourself you’ll deal with it later. right now, the cameras are still on you, and you’ve got a job to finish. you give woo seok a nudge, and he chuckles, leaning into you a little like the perfect co-star, ever the gentleman.

“we make a good team,” he says, loud enough for the audience to hear, and you nod, keeping the smile plastered on your face.

“the best,” you reply, just as smoothly.

another round of applause, and then you’re making your way off stage, the sound of clapping and cheers following you. woo seok walks beside you, relaxed as ever, but your mind is already drifting elsewhere. you know when you get home, minjeong’s going to have something to say about this, and it won’t just be a “congrats.”

you catch woo seok giving you a sideways glance as you walk off stage together. “everything okay?” he asks quietly, and for a second, you think about telling him what’s going on, but then you just shake your head.

“yeah, just... a long night,” you say, brushing it off. because, really, the last thing you need is for anyone to see behind the curtain.

the applause from the award ceremony is still ringing in your ears as you step onto the red carpet, woo seok beside you like a perfect co-star. the night feels surreal—one of those moments where you’re completely aware that all eyes are on you. the cameras are flashing, and every inch of you is under scrutiny. but you’ve got this. after all, this isn’t your first time handling the spotlight.

your gown is stunning—floor-length, shimmering in the lights, hugging your curves just right. you feel powerful, confident. beside you, woo seok is as charming as ever, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you both pose for the photographers. it’s all part of the act, and you’re good at it. the fans are screaming, holding up signs, calling your name. you give them that practiced smile, tilting your head just enough to give the cameras what they want.

but as you turn slightly, something catches your eye—a group of k-pop idols arriving on the other side of the carpet. aespa. you spot the flashes around them, fans going crazy at the sight of the group. your heart does a little flip, because standing right there, amongst her members, is minjeong.

she looks breathtaking. her icy blonde hair catches the lights just like your gown does, and her sharp, flawless features are impossible to ignore. but it’s her eyes that stop you in your tracks. because she’s not just glancing at you—no, she’s looking right at you. there’s something intense about her gaze, the way her eyes linger on you and then shift slightly, settling on woo seok’s arm, which is still resting casually around your back.

you freeze for a moment, heart racing. it’s not like she’s glaring or anything, but you can tell. there’s something simmering just beneath the surface, hidden behind her unreadable expression. her lips are pressed into a thin line, and even from this distance, you know she’s feeling something. something that probably isn’t good.

your mind starts racing, trying to figure out what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. jealousy? maybe. frustration? definitely. you’re not sure, but you know it’s not the look of someone who’s loving this public display with woo seok.

you feel woo seok shift beside you, still blissfully unaware of the tension, and he leans in just slightly, giving the cameras another moment to snap. “ready to move on?” he asks, voice light and easy.

you blink, snapping back to the present. you’ve been staring for too long. the cameras are still on you, the crowd is still watching, and you can’t afford to break character. you plaster on that same flawless smile and nod, even though your mind is a mess. “yeah, let’s go,” you say, voice calm and controlled, even though your heart is hammering in your chest.

but as you and woo seok start to move down the carpet, you can’t help but glance back at minjeong one more time. she’s still watching. still standing there, looking like she’s got a million thoughts running through her head. thoughts that probably include how to deal with this whole scene later.

the night feels endless. you and woo seok stop for more photos, answer a few questions from the press, all while the weight of minjeong’s gaze sticks with you. you know she saw everything—the award, the speech, woo seok’s arm around you. and you can’t shake the feeling that when you see her later, there’s going to be something you’ll need to work through.

because as much as you’re putting on a show for everyone else, there’s no hiding from minjeong. she knows you too well.

the set is buzzing, lights hot on your face, the familiar chaotic energy of knowing bros filling the air. you’re seated next to woo seok. you lean back slightly in your chair, trying to shake off the nervous energy that comes with being on a show like this, especially knowing the kind of teasing you're about to get.

heechul, sitting across from you, gives you both a sly grin. “so, y/n,” he begins, dragging out your name, “everyone’s been talking about your chemistry with woo seok. i mean, you two look like you’re glued together half the time. you must be pretty close, huh?”

you smile, already bracing yourself for the wave of jokes that’s coming. "well, we are on set together almost every day," you say, glancing at woo seok. "you kind of have to get along, or it’d be a nightmare."

heechul raises his eyebrows. "oh, so you’re saying it’s all professional? just good co-workers? not even a tiny spark?"

woo seok jumps in before you can answer, smirking. "don’t let her fool you. y/n loves working with me. i bring the charm, the energy, the good vibes. who wouldn’t fall for all that?"

you roll your eyes dramatically. "yeah, okay, keep telling yourself that."

heechul cackles, sensing an opening. "ooooh, here we go. so, y/n, tell us—what’s really going on? rumors are flying, and we’ve gotta know: are you keeping woo seok in the friend zone, or is there something more?"

you can feel woo seok’s gaze on you, that playful look in his eyes, but you’re already used to this. it’s part of the game, part of the act you both put on for the cameras. you smile, shaking your head, starting to get annoyed at the continous attemptat trying to out you "sorry to disappoint, but we’re just friends. really."

"friends?!" heechul repeats dramatically, as if it’s the most shocking news he’s ever heard. "with that kind of chemistry? come on, y/n."

woo seok grins, leaning back in his chair. "see? even he doesn’t believe it."

you smirk, looking at woo seok. "well, maybe it’s because he doesn’t have to spend hours with you between takes, watching you trip over your own feet or forget your lines."

woo seok gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest. "wow. throwing me under the bus again, huh? and here i thought we were close."

you shrug, leaning into the banter. "hey, someone’s gotta keep you humble."

heechul’s eyes gleam as he leans in closer. "okay, so we’ve established that y/n’s not easily impressed, but woo seok, seriously—what’s it like working with the nation’s new sweetheart? you’re telling me there haven’t been any sparks?"

woo seok tilts his head, pretending to think about it, drawing out the silence for dramatic effect. "well… there have been some pretty intense moments on set, if you know what i mean."

you give him a playful shove, laughing. "oh my god, stop. we’re literally just acting."

heechul grins, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "acting, huh? sure doesn’t look like just acting to me. i’m telling you, you two are giving off some serious energy."

the set is alive with laughter, the hosts eating up every second of the playful tension between you and woo seok. it’s fun—easy, even—because you know how to play your part. but in the back of your mind, there's that quiet voice reminding you that someone else is watching. minjeong.

you keep the smile on your face, but the thought lingers. what is she thinking right now?

heechul shifts in his seat, sensing a change in energy. "alright, alright, we’ll let it slide for now, but mark my words—there’s something there. and when you two finally admit it, i’ll be the first to say i told you so."

the cameras cut to a commercial break, and you let out a small breath, relieved to have a moment to yourself. woo seok leans over, grinning. "you okay? you looked like you were about to roast me alive."

you laugh lightly, shaking your head. "nah, just trying to keep you grounded."

he chuckles, leaning back in his chair as the set crew scurries around, preparing for the next segment. but just as you’re about to relax, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. instinctively, you pull it out and glance at the screen.

minjeong:you two looked really good together on screen today.

your stomach tightens. you stare at the message for a second too long, trying to gauge the tone. is she upset? sarcastic? you can never tell with texts like this.

"everything okay?" woo seok asks, noticing the sudden shift in your expression.

you quickly lock your phone, forcing a smile. "yeah, just… you know how it is."

he doesn’t press further, but you can feel his eyes on you as you slip the phone back into your pocket. great. the break ends, and you’re back on camera, smiling, laughing, playing the part like nothing’s wrong.

but minjeong’s message sticks with you. you know her well enough to realize there’s more behind those words than she let on. she’s definitely not happy.

you run through the rest of the show on autopilot, your mind half-present in the playful banter with the hosts, half-worrying about what’s waiting for you after. it’s not like minjeong has ever made a scene about your acting jobs before—she knows what your career involves. but this? the way you and woo seok are being portrayed, the teasing, the on-screen chemistry... it’s different. it’s public.

as soon as the cameras cut for the final time, you say your goodbyes to the hosts and make your way backstage. woo seok follows, still laughing about the last joke heechul made, but your mind is elsewhere. you quickly pull out your phone again, reading the message over and over.

you two looked really good together on screen today.

"are you sure you’re okay?" woo seok asks again, this time more serious, noticing the tension in your shoulders.

"yeah," you reply, your voice a little too light, too forced. "just tired."

he doesn’t push it, thankfully, and you head out, stepping into the cool night air. the ride back to your place feels longer than usual, the city lights passing in a blur. and as soon as you’re alone, you pull out your phone again.

you stare at minjeong’s message for a moment before typing back. thanks. it’s just for the show though, you know that, right?

her response comes almost immediately. sure, i know. just for the show.

but you can feel it, the unspoken tension, the way her words linger on the screen like a challenge. you can already tell that when you see her later, there’s going to be a conversation. maybe more than that.

just for the show. but with minjeong? nothing’s ever that simple.

you step into the apartment, as the door closes behind you, the excitement fizzles out, replaced by a heavy tension hanging in the air.

the apartment, usually warm and inviting, feels different tonight. colder. the soft glow of the tv is the only source of light in the room, casting shadows across the space. you can hear the low murmur of a rerun playing on the screen, and your stomach twists when you realize which one it is—tonight’s episode of knowing bros, the one where you had flirted with woo seok for the cameras, winked at him, laughed a little too easily for the sake of the show. it was all harmless, part of the job. but now, seeing the episode again, you feel the weight of what’s coming.

minjeong is on the couch, her legs stretched out, her lean frame tense, even though she’s pretending to be relaxed. her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and her sharp jaw is clenched. she doesn’t even glance your way when you enter, her eyes glued to the screen, but you know she heard you. she always hears you. her icy blonde hair, slightly disheveled, falls over her eyes, casting shadows on her already sharp features. the aura surrounding her is unmistakable—minjeong is sulking, and it’s because of what she saw.

you set your bag down quietly, trying not to disturb the tense silence any more than necessary. the weight in your chest grows heavier as you take a few steps toward her. “hey, baby,” you say softly, testing the waters, hoping to break through that wall she’s put up.

“hey,” she mutters back, her voice flat and distant. no glance in your direction, no smile. just the tv, and that damn scene where you’re teasing woo seok playing on a loop.

you watch her for a moment, taking in the stiffness in her posture, the way her knuckles are white from how tightly she’s gripping her arms. usually, she’d pull you in for a hug the second you walked through the door, maybe tease you about how your day went. but not tonight. tonight, she’s locked herself in that stubborn, jealous shell of hers, and getting her out of it is going to take more than a simple apology.

you sit down next to her on the couch, the space between you feeling like miles. minjeong still doesn’t look at you, her eyes glued to the screen as the scene plays out. you can hear your own voice coming through the speakers—flirty, teasing, the kind of voice you use when you’re trying to sell chemistry for the cameras. on screen, you’re laughing with woo seok, winking at him, leaning into the banter like you’re having the time of your life.

you can feel minjeong’s mood shift with every second that passes. the tension radiating off her is almost palpable, and even though she hasn’t said a word about it yet, you know exactly what’s going on in her head. you’ve seen this side of her before—the possessive, quietly brooding minjeong who doesn’t like sharing you with anyone, not even for the sake of work.

“minjeong,” you say softly, leaning in a little closer, testing the waters. “you know it’s just for the cameras, right? it didn’t mean anything.”

she doesn’t respond at first, her gaze still fixed on the tv as your on-screen self giggles at something woo seok says. her jaw tightens, and she lets out a quiet huff. “i know,” she mutters, her voice clipped. “doesn’t mean i liked it.”

you sigh, moving a little closer, until your thigh is pressed against hers. her body is warm, but there’s a chill in the way she’s shutting you out. you reach out hesitantly, placing your hand on her forearm, but she doesn’t relax under your touch. “baby, come on,” you say gently, trying to coax her out of her mood. “it’s just acting. you know you’re the one i come home to.”

finally, minjeong turns her head to look at you, her sharp eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. her expression is a mix of jealousy and frustration, though she’s trying hard to mask it under her usual calm demeanor. “it’s not about that,” she says quietly, her voice rougher than usual. “it’s just… watching you flirt with him like that, hearing everyone laugh like they believe it… i didn’t like it.”

there’s an edge to her voice that makes your heart ache. you know minjeong isn’t the type to voice her insecurities often. she’s always been the confident one, the one who stays cool under pressure. but right now, you can see the cracks in her facade, the vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.

“minjeong,” you whisper, leaning in closer until your faces are only inches apart. “you don’t have to be jealous. it’s just work. you’re the only one i’d ever look at like that for real.”

her eyes narrow slightly, and she huffs again, though this time it’s more out of frustration than anger. “yeah, well,” she mutters, her voice softening just a fraction. “doesn’t mean i want to see you doing it, even if it’s fake.”

before you can respond, minjeong moves, her strong hands finding your waist as she pulls you smoothly into her lap. you let out a surprised gasp, but you don’t resist, settling onto her thighs with your legs straddling her. her hands grip your waist firmly, possessively, as if she needs to physically remind you that you’re hers.

“look at me,” you say softly, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to meet your gaze. her eyes flicker with something unreadable—frustration, jealousy, maybe even a little insecurity—but you don’t look away. “it’s just us now. no cameras, no acting. just me and you.”

minjeong’s grip tightens slightly, her gaze still intense as she studies your face. “you know i don’t like sharing,” she mutters, her voice low, almost growling. “even if it’s just for show.”

you lean in, pressing your forehead against hers, your lips barely brushing hers as you whisper, “you don’t have to share. i’m all yours. always.”

her breath hitches slightly at your words, and you feel her muscles start to relax under your touch. her hands slide up your sides, her fingers pressing into your skin possessively, and you can feel the last remnants of her frustration melting away.

“damn right, you are,” she mutters, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

you smile softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “no more sulking, okay?” you tease, though your voice is gentle.

she huffs, rolling her eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it. “fine,” she mutters, her hands still firmly gripping your waist. “just… don’t do that again.”

you laugh softly, kissing her again, this time on the lips. “only you, baby. i promise.”

minjeong sighs, finally relaxing fully into your embrace, her arms wrapping around you tightly as she pulls you even closer. the tension between you fades completely, replaced by the quiet comfort of being together. you rest your head against her shoulder, feeling her heartbeat slow as she holds you, the weight of her jealousy slipping away.

“you’re so possessive,” you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips as you rest in her arms.

minjeong hums, her voice low and satisfied. “only when it comes to you.”

[feenoire]

Heartfelt Veils I. New Dawn

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 3.8k

warnings: slow burn-ish, age difference (18/50), brief sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: moving to a strange, quaint little town isn't so bad after all, especially after meeting your soon-to-be stepdad, who’s very handsome and nice to you.

a/n: i never knew what it felt like to have a dad or father figure in my life. that’s why i wrote this silly little fiction to fulfill my fantasy. i use the character Joel because he’s my comfort character, and i see him both as a father figure and a lover. please read it with caution, as i know this kind of story is not for everyone. i’m currently writing the next chapters <3

series masterlist

A piercing ring shattered the surrounding silence, echoing in your ears. You don’t remember how you here sitting on the ground. But you can’t see anything, everything is black like the whole world goes dark. You struggle to open your eyes but it’s hard, but you persist until it opens.

You begin to breathe faster as you examine your surroundings. You’ve been here before, but you don't exactly remember when and what happened. All you know is that you can feel an unsettling fear creeping over you in this place, and you begin to cry.

You find yourself encircled by towering trees, as you sit on the cold, damp grass. You feel like someone is watching you, but there’s no one. As you attempt to bury your face in your hands, you notice a bruise on your wrists.

What happened to me?

From the fear, your hands begin to shake. As you try to stand, you hear footsteps behind you, but you don’t dare to look back. Your heart races, and despite the cold weather, you start sweating. Everything else is silent except for your own breathing until a deep and familiar voice speaks from behind you.

“You think you can run away from me?”

You close your eyes tightly. The voice starts low, then gets louder until it speaks directly into your left ear. Leaving goosebumps tingling across your skin.

“I’ll always find a way to get you. No one can stop me.”

There’s a faint, distant voice calling your name over and over until a hand touches your shoulder. You wake up with a gasp, finding yourself in a moving car, your lungs heaving with ragged breaths.

“Are you okay, flower?”

Your mind is still processing the nightmare and trying to make sense of where you are right now. You can feel the sweat clinging to your skin.

“W-where are we?”

“We’re almost there,” your mother says. “We’ll be at the house soon.”

“Oh… right.” Of course, you are.

It all makes sense now as you start to remember things. You admire the buildings, trees, and pleasant views of the small town that will be your new home, from the backseat, with your mother beside you. With a population of just three thousand, it feels almost like a ghost town. People walk here and there, stepping on fallen leaves amid the October fall.

You check the time on the car’s radio display, it reads 4 PM, but the foggy and cold weather makes it feel much later. Meanwhile “Just Like Honey” plays softly on the radio.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your mother asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a nightmare,” you reassure her.

The car starts to enter the small neighborhood on the edge of the town. Most of the houses already have jack-o-lanterns on their porches, seems like this town loves Halloween so much.

“I’m excited,” your mother says with a smile, holding your hand on the seat.

You smile genuinely. “Me too, Mom.”

“A new dawn, a fresh start,” that’s what your mother had said when she told you about the move a month ago, to a quaint little town called Silvervale in the middle of Montana.

It came out of nowhere, and you still think about it. You miss your friend from your old school. But with your mother’s enthusiasm, you can’t say no to her, and you want to make her happy. And you like the idea of a fresh start. Why refuse it when you have the chance to begin anew?

A few minutes later, the car stops in front of the house. It radiates a cozy charm that you immediately appreciate. What you didn’t expect is that the backyard is a dense forest, with trees stretching as far as the eye can see. It would be easy for a wolf or serial killer to attack you, but you hope that won’t happen. Your mother told you that the neighborhood is safe.

The house is a two-story structure with a classic, early 20th century architectural style, a white-painted structure with a metal gabled roof and a chimney. It features a large wraparound porch supported by columns.

“Come on, flower.”

You and your mother get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk, with the cab driver helping to place them on the porch. After giving him a tip and thanking him, the driver leaves.

The two of you stand on the porch, with bags and suitcases on the floor. You tighten your jacket around your body to ward off the cold, realizing you shouldn’t have worn a dress above your knees. Meanwhile, all your other belongings are still on their way and are expected to arrive tomorrow.

“Where is he?” you ask.

“He’s not home yet, but he told me we could come inside.”

“Wait, are you sure?”

“Yeah, come on.”

You take your bags and go inside with your mother. Now all the stuff is in the living room. You take a look around the place. It’s cozy, with many books on the bookshelves beside the fireplace. There are guitars on the wall and some wood carvings on the table. You draw closer and touch them carefully, they’re beautiful. There’s a bear, a deer, a wolf, and a cowboy sitting on the horse.

Lost in a trance, you don’t hear another person enter the house until your mother calls your name.

“Yeah?” Your eyes are still trained on the carvings as you turn around until you see the man in front of you beside your mother, his arm around her shoulder. “Oh.”

Your mother, with a beaming smile, says, “Flower, this is Joel.”

Joel.

Joel is your mother’s boyfriend and one of the reasons she proposed to move here, to his house. He might’ve asked her to marry him after two years together. And she wanted to start fresh, away from your hometown. However, you have never met Joel. Your mother met him at the local bar in your hometown, Phoenix, when he was on a road trip with his brother. The rest is history.

You only recently learned that your mother dating him, she never told you about it or even mentioned anything about dating. Your mother was single, that’s all you knew since you were a kid. She was always busy working, so she never had time for a relationship. Until a few months ago, when she finally told you about Joel.

She said she wanted to make sure that Joel is a good man for both you and her, and that she wants to protect you. Now you understand why, sometimes every few months she would leave for like a week, over the past two years. She told you it was for work, and you believed her.

She said Joel’s the one, she never really went on a date with anyone since your father. Joel is a good and kind man, and she said she fell in love with him. It was kind of shocking when you heard the news, but you accepted their relationship. Actually, you’re kind of happy for her that she finally met someone she could spend her life with and who will take care of her. You’re almost eighteen, and you won’t be living with your mother forever.

It's the first time you’re seeing Joel in person.

You’ve only looked at pictures of him that your mother showed you or seen him during Facetime calls with her, when she told you to say hi to him.

You know Joel is a good-looking man from the pictures you saw, but you didn’t expect him to look this good in person. His salt-and-pepper hair suggests maturity. He has beautiful features: a rugged handsome face with tan skin, a strong jawline, warm brown eyes, and a sharp nose. Unbelievably handsome. He’s tall and broad, so you have to look up at him. His big arms stretch the charcoal flannel he wears.

In return, he looks at you, inspecting your face as if lost in a trance.

“Joel, meet my daughter,” your mother introduces.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, your voice a little breathless as you extend your hand.

Joel shakes your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m so glad we’re all finally together,” your mother says.

“Me too, Daphne,” Joel says as he kisses her temple.

It’s kind of strange to watch the scene unfolding in front of you, you’ve never seen your mother this affectionate with anyone before. But you are happy for her.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I thought I’d made it on time. I bought your favorite cake, tiramisu, right?” Joel says to your mother, gesturing to the large paper bag he’s holding.

A soft blush tints her cheeks. “Oh my god, thank you so much, Joel.”

“I planned to surprise you with it before you got here, but my car broke down on the way.”

“It’s okay, Joel. It’s perfect,” she says as she hugs him.

“Okay… so, are we gonna eat the cake now?” you say, trying to ease the awkwardness of witnessing their intimate moment.

Joel and your mother laugh at your remark, breaking the embrace with a shared smile. Then, he leads you to the dining room. The table is full of delicious-looking food, and your stomach grumbles at the sight.

��This is amazing, Joel,” your mother says.

The three of you finally sit down and enjoy the food on the dining table. You can’t believe Joel actually cooked all of this, and it’s kind of sweet. You’ve never had someone cook for you, not even your mother, because she’s always busy. So, you either cook for yourself or buy takeout. Joel mentions that he has always loved cooking. Everything on the table is flavorsome, especially the ravioli with spicy cream sauce.

You’re too busy eating your food to notice Joel looking at you until you catch him. He quickly averts his eyes back to his plate, and you can feel a flush rising to your cheeks. But you quickly push the thoughts aside.

“Oh, yeah, mom. I was wondering how I’m gonna finish high school. You haven’t mentioned anything about it yet.”

“Don’t worry, flower. I’ve already taken care of it,” your mother says. “You start next week, but there’s no high school in this town, so you’re going to the one in Lakewood.”

You furrow your eyebrows, you have no idea about anything in this town. “Where?”

“Lakewood, it’s not too far from here. Twenty minutes tops,” Joel says. “Don’t worry, I can take you there and pick you up.”

It’s such a dad thing to say, you thought. You never knew how it felt to have a dad before, and the thought warms your heart and also your cheeks. You must be blushing right now because you can see a hint of a smirk on Joel’s lips, though he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say.

Joel smiles warmly. “I rented A Nightmare on Elm Street on VHS from the store. I thought it’d be nice to watch it together tonight. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

Oh god. Wait, but how does he know? Uh… your mom must have told him, of course. Stupid you.

“But why?” you ask, puzzled. “We can just watch it on Apple TV or something.”

He smirks playfully. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You chuckle. “Right, okay.”

The two of you share a smile, locking eyes for a moment before you finally look away and return to your food.

“That’s very thoughtful,” your mother smiles and holds Joel’s hand on the table.

After everyone has finished eating, Joel leads you upstairs to show you to your room, carrying your bags. Meanwhile, your mother is having a phone call with her friend. As the two of you walk, you pass a wooden door adorned with painted blossoms and vines, with an “S” initial in the center, but you don’t ask about it. He leads you to the door on the left at the end of the hallway and turns on the night lamp.

“It’s your room, I hope you like it,” he says as he puts the bags on the floor.

It’s such a pretty room, it’s cozy with a vintage ambiance. The walls are covered with floral wallpaper, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s very Joel but in a feminine way. The windows have white lace curtains, allowing you to see the forest. All the furniture is made of dark wood, including the bed frame, bedside tables, dresser, chairs, study desk, and vanity table. There’s a floral carving around the mirror. He placed some unlit candles around the room. The bed is full-sized, and you touch the soft pink bedding with your fingers, feeling the little flowers on it. It’s pretty, soft, and you. What you didn’t expect is the painting of “Fallow Deer with Fawn” above the headboard—your favorite painting.

You gasp at the sight of it and turn around to face Joel, who’s already looking at you. His pupils dilate as he looks at you. But there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes you feel safe and comfortable.

“Joel, how did you—”

He smiles warmly and looks back into your eyes. “I asked your mom if there’s something you like. She told me that you’re crazy about that painting, and even wrote an essay about it for school. So I found a very similar one and got it for y—”

You stride to him and hug him before he can finish his words, burying your face in his chest with your arms around his torso. You feel his arms enveloping you, holding you in a bear hug, and you can feel his face resting on your hair.

You feel emotional from the gesture, unable to believe that someone actually cares about you and your interests so much. It means a lot to you, even if it might mean nothing to Joel. You try to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, closing your eyes tightly and taking a deep breath, the masculine scent of Joel fills your nostrils.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

He caresses your hair with his other hand. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Joel’s deep voice is like music to your ears. After a few seconds in what feels like heaven, you realize what you’re doing and quickly break the hug, stepping back. Overcome with embarrassment, you don’t have the courage to look him in the face. You bow your head and focus on your socks.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you say.

Joel takes a step closer to you and caresses your soft cheek with his big hand. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

His gentle voice soothes you, but you’re so embarrassed that your cheeks must be red. You still don’t dare to look at him. After waiting for a few moments and seeing your resistance, he takes a step back.

“Makes yourself comfortable, okay?” Joel says warmly. “If you need anything at all, just tell me. I’m gonna help your mom carry her bags.”

You nod, and Joel takes it as a yes. He leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

You curl up in your bed, quietly crying for almost an hour. Why did you do that? You feel so embarrassed and stupid about the moment earlier. Lost in your feelings, you didn't think twice before hugging Joel. Now, you can’t find the courage to face him. You just want to sleep and hide under your blanket forever.

But you still can’t believe Joel prepared all of this for you. The pink bedding, the flower-patterned details everywhere, the candles, the painting—all your favorite things. Not that you're ungrateful, but this is far better than your old space. You love this room Joel made for you.

You remove the blanket from your head and rest your head on the pillow. There’s a little something you didn’t notice earlier—a beautiful wood carving, much like the one in the living room, but smaller. It’s a wolf and a doe and is placed on your bedside table. You smile at the sight. Not long after that, you fall asleep, dreaming about resting on the forest floor with a big wolf hugging you.

The sky is dark outside when you wake up a few hours later. You change into your soft pink nightgown, which is sleeveless with a round neckline. Three small buttons run down the front, with small embroidered flowers beside them. You tie the delicate ribbon at the waist into a small bow. As you brush your hair, you hear a knock on the door.

You put the brush down and go to open the door, finding Joel on the other side. You don’t open the door all the way, keeping your hand on the handle. He looks so handsome, his curls falling into his forehead. He’s wearing a faded black t-shirt that hugs his frame, paired with flannel pants.

“Yeah?” you whisper.

In return, he looks at you. His once-brown eyes darken and dilate as he gazes from your right eye to your left, lingering on your lips. You notice him wet his lips, and then his eyes roam over your body, making you feel self-conscious. His intense gaze sends a hot sensation through your core.

“Joel?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly as if realizing what he is doing. “Uh… I’m sorry, sweetheart. I came here to ask if you’re still up for the movie night.”

“Oh, right. Um… yeah, sure,” you stutter.

“Okay. Uh, are you alright?” he asks.

You immediately know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry, Joel, about earlier,” you bow your head.

“Hey, please don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You can come to me anytime you want,” he says, his voice sincere.

You nod.

“Alright, why don’t we head downstairs now? Your mom’s in the kitchen making popcorn. Or do you need more time?”

“No, I’m ready.”

You open the door and step out of the room.

“Do you want a chocolate or something? Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says as he walks down the stairs in front of you.

Your heart warms at his offer, and you smile softly. “Um… could I have hot chocolate and Oreos?” you ask shyly.

“Of course,” he replies with a smile. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and let me make it for you?”

“Okay.”

Joel walks to the kitchen and joins your mother. Meanwhile, you sit on the couch in the dim living room, waiting for them. You grab the VHS, still inside the box, and examine the back cover. It says, ‘If Nancy doesn’t wake up screaming… she won't wake up at all!’ and you smile as the words send a shiver of excitement down your spine.

A few minutes later, your mother shows up with Joel. He brings a steaming cup of hot chocolate with Oreos and two bottles of Corona beer. Meanwhile, your mother puts a bowl of chips and popcorn on the coffee table.

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “Thank you, Joel, Mom.”

Joel grins. “Excited?”

“Flower, why don’t you change into something a little more appropriate? Don’t you get cold dressed like that?” your mother says, her eyes looking sharply at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, puzzled. “But it’s my nightgown.”

“Just change, alright?” she says, her tone brooks no debate.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

Your smile fades as you stand up from the couch. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s face—his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks confused as he glances at your mother. Quickly, you go upstairs to your room, holding back the urge to cry.

“Please don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you whisper to yourself like a spell as you look for more appropriate night attire in your suitcase.

You’re confused because your mother also wears a short nightgown too, with tin straps. So why is she upset with yours?

So you opt for your winter pajama set: long-sleeved button-up top and long pants. It’s light-colored with a pattern of small bear figures scattered on the fabric.

After changing, you take a deep breath, go downstairs, and sit on the rug with your hot chocolate in your hands, avoiding their eyes.

“I’m ready,” you say softly.

You’re glad your voice isn’t shaking because you don’t want to look vulnerable in front of them. Joel stands up from the couch, puts the VHS in the VCR, and plays the movie. You can feel his eyes on you, but you bow your head and focus on your hot chocolate.

The atmosphere is not as exciting as it was before your mother scolded you, but you try to enjoy the moment. A few moments into the movie you can’t help but giggle and blush at Glen Lantz's appearance, you’ve always had a crush on him.

“You sure your cheeks don’t hurt now, little girl?” Joel says with a smirk on his face, catching you smiling for not the first time.

Embarrassed, you lower your head and take a bite of your cookie. “No…”

Joel chortles. “Your cheeks got redder, sweetheart.”

You put the cookie down, curl up, and bury half of your face in your knees at his teasing. If your ears could work like a chimney in a cartoon, you are sure there would be fumes coming out from how warm your cheeks are right now. Damn Joel.

Near the movie’s end, you catch a glimpse of your mother kissing Joel’s face and neck—not the peck kind but the longing kind. You feel deeply uncomfortable and don’t want to look. You try to focus on the movie but can’t. You hold yourself together until the closing credits appear, and then you quickly stand up.

“I’m tired, I’m gonna go to my room,” you mutter before leaving and going back to your room.

Why did they have to do that in front of you? Are they drunk? You throw yourself onto the bed and turn off the night lamp, allowing the natural light from the night sky to illuminate your room as you try to sleep.

After what feels like twenty minutes, just as you doze off, you hear thumps and muffled moans coming from the other side of the wall behind the headboard. And you know exactly what they’re doing, which pisses you off even more, and you feel like you want to cry. So you clutch your pillow and blanket and go to sleep in your closet with your earmuffs on. You didn’t expect your first night here to be like this—sleeping on the closet floor. It takes a while to fall asleep again.

[brenwritesss]

Talent part 4

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Paige promised to come to your show, but you didn't believe her. You should have known better.

a/n: this chapter has not been edited, I just wanted to put something out so I apologize for any errors.

warnings: language and implied sex

You lived for nights like these. Where you could feel the music already flowing through your veins before you even hit the stage. Where you could hear the crowd screaming your name and chanting for you. Where the lights in the arena dimmed and the stage grew bright, signaling you were about to take to the stage. Before every show, you always went into your dressing room to sit in front of your mirror. As a child, you dreamt of just a sliver of moments like these. If only that little girl could see you now. See the artist you’ve become. How people would travel across the country just to see you perform.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking some time to adjust a few strands of hair and fix your bra strap. You hummed the notes of the first song on your set list to yourself as people scrambled behind you to get everything in place before your opener finished their set. Tonight, you were playing in Hartford, Connecticut with it being your tenth stop on your world tour. You had been dreading this show for the past couple months. And it was all because of one person. Paige Bueckers. 

Yes, you did not listen to yourself and continued to text Paige. Almost every fucking day. To say you both were heading into a situationship was an understatement. Over these past couple of months, Paige had been proving herself to be more than a stereotypical college athlete and to be honest, you were here for it. She was actually very sweet to you and always woke you up with compliments. Your text messages had progressed to phone calls to FaceTimes and it felt so natural. You haven’t felt that comfortable with someone like that for a long time and it was refreshing. The only thing you hadn’t done was meet in person. It was talked about; quite a lot actually but you both just had such busy schedules that there was never any time. That was until tonight.

When you and Paige first started talking, you both had brought up the likelihood of her going to your show in Hartford. And you had always thought that she was bluffing about taking the time to come see you perform. Your phone buzzed beside you.

Paige

Can’t wait to see you tonight

You send her a quick winking emoji before getting rushed to your stage entrance. That is when it hit you that Paige was indeed not bluffing and had made plans to come see you tonight. Not only did this mean that Paige would be seeing you perform in front of thousands of people; but it also meant that there was a huge possibility that you would be meeting her for the first time outside of the late-night phone calls and text messages.

It wasn’t just meeting Paige that you were nervous about. It was about what would happen before and after you met. Would she enjoy your show? Would she think that you weren’t as good live? And once you met, would you instantly go into a hug? Or would it be an awkward handshake? Would the conversation flow as easily as it did over the phone? Only one way to find out.

You counted the beats until it was time for you to walk out on stage. Within your first few steps, the crowd grew wild and all you could hear was the screams and the clapping. You could see phones held up in the air throughout the entire arena and the lights emitting from them. You held your microphone up to your mouth, starting your first song.

Within seconds, you were back in your element. The crowd sang along with you and you kept up with the beats going through your ears. Suddenly, you got more nervous than earlier which threw you off considering you had done this so many times before. The performing. Just knowing that Paige was actually here in the arena made goosebumps form on your skin and made you suddenly self-conscious. Instead of flowing with the music like you normally did, you were now conscious and aware of every movement and step you took on stage. 

Once you had been performing for a while and you could feel the support from your fans in the crowd, you fell back into your natural element and carried on the performance like normal, forgetting that Paige was even here. Your favorite part of the show happened towards the middle during one of your slower songs. The crowd would turn on their flashlights on their phone, mimicking a night sky in the arena. It made you feel alive.

The show was over in what felt like minutes, saying your farewells to the crowd as you walk off the stage. You spent the time after thanking your crew, band, and dancers for another amazing performance on your tour. After you had finally changed out of your performance outfit and put on a sweatsuit, you picked up your phone and saw that you had a message.

Paige

Holy Shit

When can I see you

You text back immediately. “Just finished up backstage. Meet me at the back entrance?”

I gotchu

Don’t make plans for the rest of the night. You’re mine tn

Your heart was pounding. In a few minutes you would be seeing the girl who had taken over your head face to face. You hoped desperately that the conversation would flow as easily in person as it did online. You headed in the direction of the back entrance, rubbing your hands on your hoodie to get rid of the nervous sweat. 

You open the door, instantly getting hit with the cool air through your hoodie. At first you didn’t see her as you looked around, sliding your phone out of your pocket to text her. “Hey,” a voice spoke out as the familiar, tall blonde walked around the corner. She had her hands shoved into her hoodie, hair straight down past her shoulders. You could see her breaths in the cool air and you almost felt as if you were starstruck. She was hotter in person if that was even possible.

“Hey,” you respond, walking toward her slowly as if you forgot how to walk. “I um thought you wouldn-”

Paige smiled and shook her head. “Shut up,” she said, cutting you off as she grabbed your face and pulled you towards her, smashing her lips onto yours. You gasped at the unexpected move, reaching your hands up to grab her wrists as you kissed her back. The kiss was more than anything you could have pictured between the two of you and it made you want more.

She pulled away and you instantly missed the feeling of her lips on yours. You took a sharp breath. “Holy shit.”

Paige laughed, “never gotten kissed like that before or what?”

You playfully punch her shoulder, earning a low laugh from her. You shake your head, “try it again and see for yourself.”

You saw a mischievous spark in her eyes that lit a fire in you. How is it that you have only been standing in front of her for maybe three minutes and she could almost consume your soul just by looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes. Paige let her hands travel from the base of your jawline to the curve of your waist and you instantly leaned into her touch. Her fingers were warm, contrasting to the cold air that gave you goosebumps. She tilted her head to the side. “I think you should come with me.”

“And where are we going?” you ask her, tilting your head to match her movements.

Paige rubbed small circles into your waist, the only chill you could feel coming from her silver rings that hugged her fingers. “Can’t just show you all my tricks right out the gate, princess.” The way she had said that almost into your ear made you forget how to breathe. The way she smiled after, biting her lip and looking down into your eyes answered all the questions you had been asking yourself before. Yes, the conversation would definitely be flowing easy in person. And that wouldn’t be the only thing flowing easily. 

Paige tugged at your hand, moving your body with hers as she began walking towards her car. Your fingers fit perfectly between hers and you kept close, keeping that warmth between the two of you. You let out a small laugh, “not gonna kiss me again? Was it that bad?”

Paige shook her head, laughing, “nah,” she paused and leaned toward your ear. “Don’t want anyone seeing what I’m ‘bout to do to you.”

You swallowed. Hard. The way her words easily left her mouth and her perfect voice. It all just made you want to rip her clothes off. It seemed like Paige could tell because her grip on your hand grew tighter. “And what are you gonna do?” you ask her, almost challenging her. 

And that challenge didn’t go unnoticed because even under the street lights, her eyes darkened and she wore a smirk across her lips. “You’re a dangerous one, you know.”

“Still didn’t answer my question.”

Paige opened the passenger door to her car, waiting for you to get in. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry princess.”

You got into the car and she shut the door, walking over to her side. After getting in, you smiled at her, “you’re way cuter in person, you know that?”

A look of mock offense crossed her face. “Was I not over the phone?”

You laugh, “no you were. I just didn’t think you’d be this…” You trailed off, trying to find the word.

“This…” she repeated after you.

“Hot,” you reply.

“Again,” she says. “Was I not over the phone?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I fucking mean, baby.”

Paige raised her eyebrows at you. “Baby?”

“What, I call you that over the phone all the time. Now you have a problem with it?”

“It’s hot when you get defensive,” she retorts, looking at you. She leans in closer to you. “And to be fair, out of some other things you’ve called me, that’s what you chose?”

You lean in closer to match her movements. “And what would you prefer?”

“I mean…” she said with her cocky tone. “I seem to remember this one night where you called me da-”

“OKAY,” you shout, cutting her off. “We can end this conversation right now.”

Paige bust out laughing, “no no, you had no problem calling me that over the phone. Scared to do it in person?”

“You’re fucking gross,” you respond, feeling lowkey embarrassed that she called you out like that.

“How am I gross when you were the one that said it in the first place?” 

“Because,” you pause. “I’m not the one bringing it up now.”

“Right,” Paige smiles, bringing her hand up to the steering wheel. “We can get you bringin’ it up real quick if you want.”

Clocked. Cooked. And everything in between. “So, was your plan to come to my show and then fuck me after? No date, nothing?”

Paige rolls her eyes, turning the car on and giving you a look like she could either kiss you or strangle you in that moment. “So, I have been talking to you for months and have told you countless times that I was gonna take you out and you think I wanna fuck you right now?”

“Well do you?”

“Hell yeah but I’m taking you on a date first. Who do you think I am?”

You and Paige spent the next twenty minutes talking throughout the drive, her hand not leaving your thigh once. The conversation got deep quickly like they always did between the two of you. That was something you had never gotten from your previous relationship and it was refreshing. It was assuring knowing that your relationship with her wasn’t just built on those initial physical attractions towards each other and that it was becoming way more than that.

Paige pulled into an arcade parking lot and you couldn’t have been more excited. “Is this place even open?”

Paige shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I rented it out.”

Your eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, princess.”

And she wasn’t lying because you spent the next few hours competing against her in games. And you definitely lost to her in the basketball games.

Your head against her purple pillows, breaths hitched, fingers gripping her sheets. Paige’s fingers slowly slid up your thighs, blowing cool air on you. You gasped just at the contact of air on you and made eye contact with her as she massaged your thighs. 

(You might be wondering how you wound up in this position…)

“You’re a world-touring superstar, let me treat you like one,” she whispered against your cunt and your back arched. “I’ll show you how good of a fan I can be.”

[lovecla]

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, nico hischier x you.

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase three:

<last chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: none :)

➴ word count: 2.5k

💌 from me to you: woke up with devils win and 500 followers this is INSANE! i never thought i’d have 20 followers let alone 500, literally half a thousand. thank you so much. i love you. also, if you haven’t seen it yet, here’s the story’s universe masterlist!

𖧷

𖧷

A MONTH had passed since you and Nico started fake-dating each other.

You’ve already lost count of how many dates you both went to, how many times he’d held your hand or how many times you called him “baby” in front of his friends.

You can’t really say you’re fine, because you’re not. Apart from the lying thing not really being your thing, it’s exhausting to pretend that what you feel for Nico is just compassion and empathy.

Lying to your friends is terrible and you feel like the worst person ever, especially knowing that you all swore to always tell the truth about everything to each other.

But what really makes you hate yourself is the fact that you can’t help but feel like you’re lying to Nico too. You enjoy way too much the time you spend with him, and you pretend that what you both have is true whenever you’re with him, which isn’t part of the deal you both made. At all.

But now, it doesn’t matter, because today, out of all days, is the most important day of your fake-dating thing.

Today is Friday, and the Devils are going to play against the Chicago Blackhawks. And not only that, but some sort of dinner is going to happen after the game, and no one other than Nora Ellis is going to be there.

So, all this time, all this training, all this faking, led you and Nico to this day. The day you’ll both see if Nora will finally reach out to Nico.

And your plan already went well since last week Nico called you after his game to tell you the news.

“Hi?” you say as you answer the phone, balancing it between your cheeks and shoulder as you continue to cook dinner, stirring the chicken in the oven with a fork. “Nico?”

“Hi, Em,” he says back and you can tell he’s got the biggest smile on his face just by the tone of his voice. “Can you talk right now?”

You close the oven door with your feet and grab your phone with your right hand, properly adjusting it against your ear. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“So, I just got home, right?” he sounds so freaking excited that your heart decides it’s enough to make you happy for the entire week.

“Right?”

“And I opened Instagram to check some shit and you won’t believe it. Nora just followed me and liked three of my most recent photos.”

You stare at the clock that sits on top of your fridge, not really reading the time, just looking and thinking. Of course Nora would do something like this as soon as you and Nico started being more obvious both online and offline.

It infuriates you. It makes you feel something ugly inside your chest, and you have to close your eyes for a few seconds so you can focus. You can’t ruin this for him. Nico’s too precious for you to fuck this up.

“Em?”

“Oh my God, that’s so cool!” you put on your best fake excited face and try your hardest to sound happy. “Did you follow her back?”

Please say no, please say no.

“I kind of already followed her…” he coughs, and you can hear some movement. “But that’s a good thing, right? Your plan is working.”

You bite your lip hard enough to bleed, and the pain brings you back to the present time.

“It’s not… my plan only,” you stutter. “This is teamwork.”

“No, baby,” Nico chuckles. “This is all you. All of this is happening thanks to you.”

This is all you.

“Sure,” you whisper, squeezing the phone. “I’m glad it’s working, then.”

All of this is too confusing, but you don’t have time to try to understand what’s really going on inside you. You have a dinner and a game to attend, and you’ll be on your best behavior.

Thankfully, you managed to convince Mia and Ella to come with you, so when you leave your house and find Mia’s car parked in front of your door you smile, relieved.

At least you wouldn’t have to go through this by yourself.

“Hi, lovelies,” you greet them as you sit in the back seat, kissing both of them on the cheek. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Hi, Em.” Ella smiles at you, always the sweet angel she is.

“Hi, baby,” Mia also grins widely, turning the car on and getting out of the parking spot. “You look so freaking good.”

You look down at your own clothes: Nico’s jersey that he gave you a few weeks ago when you had to attend one of his games, a black, mini-skirt and boots.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I like it too.”

“You look like the perfect WAG.” Mia jokes and you laugh, as Ella shakes her head.

“Well, that’s probably what they’re calling me online so I might as well get used to the name.” You shrug, looking through the window.

“Don’t listen to them, Em,” Ella says, looking at you through the mirror. “They’re just mean and rude.”

“Fuck the haters!” Mia shouts.

“Yeah,” Ella smiles. “I guess you could also say that.”

𖧷

𖧷

NICO LOOKS like a god.

He plays like one too, defying gravity and moving so fast your eyes can’t barely see where he’s going.

The arena is somewhat full, and you already lost count of how many people took photos of you and your friends, even when you’re in a secluded area, near the ice.

The shouts, the loud music and the sound of the puck being thrown from one side to the other is overwhelming, but you get through the first and second period just fine, Mia and Ella helping you a lot— you laughed more than you watched the game, and if you’re being honest, you were more interest in the gossip Mia was telling you than in the scoreboard.

Still, Nico looks good in his Hockey uniform. Good enough to eat. And even though you know you shouldn’t be thinking things like this, you keep telling yourself that, as long as no one knows what you’re really thinking, it will be fine.

“Here we go.” You hear Mia’s unamused voice and you turn your head back to the game, only to realize there was a huge fight going on.

“It’s so violent.” Ella murmurs beside you, and usually you’d just laugh at her sweetness and tell her that’s just how Hockey works, but when you catch a glimpse of the number thirteen in the midst of the sea of bodies and gloves being thrown, you can help but gasp out loud.

“Oh my God. It’s Nico!” You jump on your seat, getting close to the glass in front of you. “Nico is punching someone!”

“Geez, this is gold.” Mia laughs beside you but you can’t even get mad at her, you’re too focused on the punch party unfolding in front of your eyes.

It’s not the first fight you see, but it’s the first time you see Nico getting involved. It’s the first time you watch a fist hit his perfect, angelic face and it’s the first time you watch him throw the punch back.

He’s winning the fight, a small blessing, but you can see blood on his cheek, and your heart shrinks to the size of a pea.

“Why are the refs just watching?” You say, louder than you probably should’ve. But people are busy watching the fight, so you keep going. “Do something, man!”

As Nico throws another punch, the refs finally decide to jump in and separate all of the players. Nico ends up in the penalty box alongside Jack, who decided that protecting his captain was more important than keeping up with a clean game.

“I wish Jack had gotten punched in the face.” Mia sighs, like the fact that Jack’s face’s still pretty and intact annoys her.

“Mia!” Ella reprimands her, like a mother would, and you can tell they’re going to start their daily bickering about how Mia should stop fighting Jack (from Ella’s point of view) and how Jack should stop being an asshole (from Mia’s point of view).

You stare at Nico sitting in the penalty box with his head down, and you want nothing but to go there and hug him. You know he’s a big boy, and you also know that he was the one who started the fight (and won it), but you feel bad anyway.

The rest of the game flies by and you’re eager to see Nico. You want to hold him and ask him if he’s alright, or if he’s hurt and in pain. You want to see those two dimples adorning his cheeks like they always do, and you want to look into his hazelnut eyes and want them to look back at you.

That’s why you don’t even think twice before walking faster when you spot him entering the room where the dinner would be held, and that’s also why you hug him tightly, surprising him and everyone around you.

“Oh, hey, there.” Is what he says, and you catch yourself inhaling his clean, soapy scent before removing your face from his neck and standing in front of him, your eyes scanning his entire face, barely blinking as you stare at the bruise on his cheek.

“You scared me,” you can’t help but pout— it’s only natural when you’re this upset. “I look away for a second and when I look back you’re there, in the middle of everyone, throwing punches here and there and for what?”

“The guy was an asshole, Em,” he chuckles, only to wince with pain afterwards.

“You’re hurt, Nico,” you whisper, caressing his face with the back of your hand. “It’s not funny…”

“It’s Hockey, baby,” he shrugs. “I’ll end up getting hurt in one way or another.”

“I know, I know,” you whisper. “I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

Before he can answer, someone with a huge camera takes a photo of the two of you and it probably looks awful— you had a worried expression on your face, pouty lips, arms wrapped around Nico’s neck and you were also standing on your tiptoes.

“What—”

“Can I get a photo of the two of you?” the man, probably the photographer, asks and you’re suddenly too stunned to speak. One thing is for you and Nico to post subtle, faceless pictures of each other on your Instagram, another completely different one is for one of the team’s official photographers to take a picture of the two of you as a couple and post it everywhere.

“Well—”

“Yeah, you can,” Nico, always the nice, cool guy, answers for both of you, and before you can explain to him why this isn't a great idea at all, you feel his arms around your waist pulling you closer to his body, while your arms are still resting on his neck.

You try to remove them, only to have Nico tsc-ing at you. “Keep them there.”

You nod, dumbfounded, smiling at the camera in front of you, wincing slightly when the flash momentarily hits your face.

“Beautiful!” the man smiles, angling the camera again. “Now what about a kiss?”

You feel Nico’s body freeze beside yours, and you can sense how tense he is.

“Oh, I don’t think—” he starts speaking, stuttering a lot for someone who has just been asked something as simple as kissing his girlfriend. He’s red too, cheeks flushed like maple leaves during October. “Kids will see that, no?”

“Just a tiny peck, it’s no biggie—”

“Man, no—”

“Come on, captain, give the fans what they want—”

You’re about to intervene in their bickering when you see her. Nora walks in like she owns the place, holding her father’s arm with an elegance that should be illegal. She’s wearing a red, tight dress that holds her curves in all of the right places, her hair is braided and down and her gold jewelry matches her dark-skin so freaking well.

She’s stunning and she’s breathtaking and she’s looking at you and Nico.

“Nico, kiss me.” You whisper, and Nico looks at you with a worried expression.

“Em, we don’t have to do this, it’s fine,” he squeezes your waist and turns his head around, ready to tell the guy to fuck off probably, but you grab his chin and turn his head back to you.

“Nico Hischier, kiss me. Right. Now.”

You don’t give him enough time to answer, you just glue your lips together. His eyelids fluttered closed just seconds before you leaned in, as you closed your own eyes. It was slow at first, tentative, a brief connection that hung in the air before it deepened.

Your lips parted, and his followed, a soft press that turned into something warmer, more certain. Your hands found his arms, a quiet reassurance, while his fingers traced the curve of your jaw, the warmth of your skin sending a ripple of sensation through him.

Nico’s heartbeat was a rhythm, steady but quickening, like the rise and fall of the breath between you. There was a sweetness to it, a soft and tender give-and-take, as you were both tasting each other for the first time, exploring the familiar and the unknown in the same breath.

When you pulled apart, only a fraction of a second later, the world rushed back—sounds, light, movement—but there was still that lingering warmth, a spark that hadn’t quite faded.

And neither of you said anything, not yet. You just stood there for a moment, the kiss still hanging between you, both a question and an answer all at once.

“Woof,” the photographer laughs, putting the camera down. “Now that’s what we’ve been waiting for. Thanks, Cap, thanks Mrs. Roberts.”

Neither of you say anything, because you’re both too busy staring at each other like two…

Idiots.

“Emma—”

“Well, don’t you two make the best couple in town?”

You didn’t expect her voice to be this penetrating, this ethereal. But of course it is. It’s perfect, just like everything else about Nora Ellis.

“Mrs. Ellis,” you hear yourself saying, and suddenly, all of the feelings you didn’t even have time to process after kissing Nico become something horrendous and awful. “Thank you.”

“No need to be so formal, Emma, we’re the same age,” she flicks her hand, addressing you like you’ve been friends for the past ten years. “It’s just Nora for you,” she turns to Nico, her eyes showing something that makes you feel even worse. “And for Nico.”

Nico smiles, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Nora. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” she bites her lip, smiling afterwards. It makes you sick to your stomach, and you remove your hands from Nico, placing them on your tummy. “So nice to finally meet you.”

Her words keep replying inside your head for the rest of the night, and you’re reminded of what you’re doing there in the first place.

You’re with Nico to make Nora Ellis fall in love with him.

You’re certainly not with Nico to make him fall in love with you, or the other way around.

<next chapter>

[magics-neptunes-things]

Jealousy or caring?

Hi guys :)

After the results of the survey, this is the story you have choosen. I may write the others too though.

Summary : This one talk about jalousy and everything who can come out of it, whether it’s little cute reconciliations or a little more complicated repercussions.

TW : Jealousy, discomfort with her feelings, a little angst.

Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

Looking at your sleepy girlfriend, you gently raise your hand to caress her face. Your gesture is gentle and delicate, afraid to wake her up. Alexia’s moments of rest are so rare these days that you do everything you can to make them as restful as possible.

You loved everything about her, even her jealousy. Or, as she prefers to call it, her caring. As the days, weeks, months and even years went, you realize that Alexia's jealousy caring has different colors.

********

Losing has never been easy for anyone. But you must admitted that on your side, you are perhaps less accustomed than some of your fellow teammates. You’ve been playing at FC Barcelona for a few years now and the few times you’ve lost have traumatized you. Perhaps because it often happened in the finals, you must admit that disappointment is always up to the hopes and efforts that have been made to get there.

Your national team is a little less successful than your club though. You are of Norwegian origin and even though you qualified for the last World Cup, you are having a little trouble earning points for the next Cup. After another loss, you find yourself in the last place in the ranking and the bitterness that reigned in the locker room after your defeat is still well anchored in you.

You're actually lying on your bed of the hotel room that you share with Ingrid Engen, your bestie, who also plays in Barcelona. You’ve both been staring at the ceiling without saying a word, unable to sketch the slightest gesture. You are lying in a V-shape on the same bed, the legs of the brunette on yours. You’re playing the game in your head again and again and the things you could have done otherwise to allow your team to win. And you know that it’s the same kind of things that also turn in Ingrid’s head.

You only get out of your lethargy when you feels your mobile phone vibrate in the pocket of your jogging, making you jump. You startle Ingrid at the same time and she throws you a glare while you roll your eyes, wriggling on the bed to extract your phone. Looking at the screen, you smile when you see that it's your girlfriend. You pick up and wait patiently for the few seconds necessary for the Facetime call to connect.

The black screen gives way to Alexia’s face and your heart tightens when you remember that she's thousands miles away from you. Even if Ingrid is your best friend, you’d rather be lying in the same bed as Alexia.

"Holà Bebita" makes you affectionately the latina and you smile tenderly.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

You pout and shrug. Always lying on your back on your bed and your blond hair in halo around your head, you are not sure of the effect, but never mind. You don’t answer with words, but that’s enough for Alexia to understand what you mean. She can’t stand to lose, too.

"For what it’s worth, you played very well."

"Not good enough apparently"

You grumble, but you’ve seen a few comments from frustrated fans who feel like you should have found situations to get the ball in the net a second time. Your equalizer wasn't enough to save your team and a few minutes before the end of the match the opposing team scored the goal of the victory.

Alexia frowns when you say that and you already know the words she will say. They are always the same when a teammate takes the team’s defeat on her back. However, this doesn't seem to apply to her, she's the first to declare herself guilty during a defeat.

"Hey I forbid you to say that. If you hadn’t done your best, you wouldn’t be that exhausted. How’s Ingrid?"

Preferring not to answer and focusing on her question, you turn your head towards your best friend. She's Alexia's friend too after all. The brunette imitates you a few seconds later and your lack of common energy ends up amusing yourself. So it's with a slight smile that you bring your attention to the screen and Alexia.

"She's laying down on my bed and didn’t even have the courage to get fully dressed after her shower."

"Perdóna me?"

You hoped to tease Alexia’s jealousy, but it's finally Mapi’s face that appears on the screen, her eyebrows frowning. You are surprised to see her, Alexia didn't inform you that she was in her company, but not entirely astonished. If Ingrid is your best friend, Mapi is definitely Alexia’s. This allows the four of you to have great moments together, even if Alexia and you are less likely to party than the other two.

"Y/N why is my girlfriend not answering her phone and naked on your bed?!"

"Holà Maria" you laugh.

"Mapi give me my phone back!" your hear Alexia in the background and some noise make you realize that she's really trying to take it back.

This chaos makes you smile and ends up shaking Ingrid from her lethargy. She rolls on her stomach to also watch the screen of your phone. Even if for the moment you have a breathtaking view of the ceiling of Alexia’s living room, then some fingers, then a black background and finally Alexia’s face again, with Mapi pouting in the background.

"Hi darling" Ingrid smiles when she sees her girlfriend. "My phone battery was discharged, I call you as soon as it comes back on."

You laugh when you see Mapi's face but Ingrid slaps you on the head and you frown.

"Hey" you whined, rubbing your head with your hand, as Ingrid gets up from bed to check her phone.

It actually had to come back on since you lost time to look at the ceiling and when she unplugs it from the cable, you look at your screen again. When the brunette informs you that she will call Mapi, you decide to plug in your headphones so you can focus on the conversation you have with Alexia. And besides, your roommate is doing the same. Rolling on your side, face on the wall, you look at your perfect lady.

"I miss you so much"

The confession you make to the blonde isn’t surprising, even if you are not physically demonstrative in public, you are very often together. Alexia actually has more things to do outside of trainings than you do, but you have at least all your evening together.

"I miss you too" Alexia replies before hesitating to continue "… but Ingrid was really not naked, huh?"

********

Alexia's jealousy, excuse-me, caring, wasn't always cute and nice actually. At the beginning of your relationship, you decided not to tell the fans. Partly because you didn’t want to deal with the reactions it would cause, but also because you wanted to be sure it would be a serious relationship. To be perfectly honest, you already knew on your side that this was the case but you didn't want to put too much pressure on Alexia, believing that she already had enough things to manage like this.

Her insecurities have always surprised you, even if she never really talked about it. She never accused you of anything and you know perfectly well that she never searched in your phone either for example. But the fear that sometimes colors her eyes when she sees you talking to another girl surprised you so much the first time that you told yourself that you were imagining things. Spoiler, you weren't.

You also remember perfectly well the time when you were looking for an enveloppe with pictures of your childhood in your apartment, making a mess in your living room. "I’m sure Anna put it in there" you mumbled, head down in a drawer.

"Who is Anna?"

The question was thrown as lightly as if Alexia had asked you the weather for the next day. But when you turned around, her face seemed too smooth and the fact that she looked away very suspicious. Again, there were no accusations in her behavior or tone of voice.

"My cousin? Who came last week?"

"Oh."

And with that, Alexia had moved on to another subject after a few seconds. You felt her relief and you saw how her whole body suddenly relaxed. It was always like that with the blonde. She has never been in the habit of talking about her emotions and even if she shows you that she loves you and cares about you, she is not the type of person to make you long love declarations. But you love her this way.

********

Because of all this, the first time her jealousy really took over her, you were taken by surprise.

It was during a casual match with a team in the middle of the ranking. You were easily winning and the match took place in a rather good general atmosphere, the visitors being rather respectful of the game.

This didn't prevent a bad tackle from an opposing player on you, more clumsy than voluntary, throwing you to the ground with a stabbing pain in the tibia. This pain made you stay a few seconds on the floor during which you resumed your breathing. The player in question quickly leaned over you to apologize, making sure nothing serious happened to you. You didn’t even calculate her hand on your shoulder, but you willingly accepted the helping hand that Alexia held out to help you up, taking you away from the other girl.

"I'm ok" you simply reassured her, taking her suspicious look as an interest on her part for your leg.

Well, you still think she was worried about that too. But, head in your game, you went back to your position and you didn’t think about this incident again.

When the referee whistled the famous three shots, you stayed on the pitch for several minutes to chat with your teammates and go sign some jerseys and take some pictures. After examining your tibia, you saw that a bruise has starting to form and the medical team asked you not to wait too much before going to put at least a little ice on it.

So you apologized to the fans and walked into the hallway leading to the locker room. It was at this moment that the player of the opposing team came after you, calling you by your first name. Surprised, you turned around and smiled at her when she made sure once again that you were okay.

You showed her your tibia to reassure her and with that you started to discuss a bit about the game. She ended up asking for a jersey swap and after a few seconds of hesitation, you agreed. It was at this very moment that Alexia made her appearance and the timing could probably not be worse.

Even if you had nothing to reproach yourself, she nevertheless found herself facing the image of her girlfriend only dressed in her shorts and a sports bra, facing another girl wearing her jersey. All of this with a few laughs that reflected on the walls of the corridor and the hand of the opponent placed on your arm to thank you.

The moment you met her gaze, you knew the situation was going to be complicated. Alexia were frozen a few feet from you, but you perfectly saw her jaw contract and the muscles of her hands tense.

You naturally ran after her when she turned around and it took you the whole way to the locker room for her to at least agree to look at you. And you had to take her face in your two hands since saying her name repeatedly, asking her to listen to you seemed to have no effect.

"Ale, Baby, look at me"

You had to put yourself on tiptoes to have your eyes at her level and finally really have her attention. The way she pushed your hands back into that corridor and walk with a quick step while shaking her head and not even looking at you gave you the impression that she was only there physically.

You never raised your voice, feeling that it would only make things worse. And you were right. Alexia’s eyes cut off your breathing and for once it wasn’t in the right way. The anger she had felt a few moments ago seemed to have deserted her mood, replaced by distress and insecurity.

You were alone in the locker room but you knew there were risks that it would not last. And Alexia would never want to be seen in this state of emotions by anyone. So, ignoring your bruise, you informed her you were taking her home. You left her no choice and she didn't protest, which may seem surprising coming from Alexia, but you were relieved to see that she was not trying to run away from you anymore.

The ride was quiet and it was a relief when you arrived in the safety of your apartment. That said, you didn’t really know what to do with your girlfriend, suddenly turned into a mute wall, looking at nothing. So you made the decision to sit her on your couch and kneel in front of her, between her legs. The fact that you are both still in football outfits added to the strangeness of the scene.

"Ale?"

Her gaze rests on you and the emotions that were previously there was added the fact that she seems lost. You put your hands on her lap and you look at her for a long time, not really knowing what to say. But you end up choosing what you think is most important.

"I know what you saw and that it may have seemed inappropriate, but I swear there was nothing. She just apologized and asked me to swap our jerseys"

You feel her gaze scan you and you let her do it, leaving her the time she needs. She finally nods, but you’d like her to talk to you, explain what’s going on in her head. Except she seems incapable of it for the moment.

"Come on, let’s take a shower."

You hope that the hot water will allow Alexia to relax and gather her ideas and you let her enter the shower first. Until she finishes, you unpack your bags and you decide to make her a cup of tea. Even if you are not English, your mom had this habit when someone was not well and you took the same way.

To give her as much privacy as possible, you left some spare clothes and you wait patiently on your sofa for her to come out of the bathroom. Looking at your phone, you realize that your hurry departure surprised some of your teammates and you don’t wait to answer them that everything is fine and that you are together. You can already imagine the kind of gritty scenario that Mapi will put herself in the head.

When your girl had finished, it was your turn and you hurry to go back to her as soon as possible. Despite her silence, you’re afraid you won’t find her when you get out of there. But no, except instead of being on your couch, she’s sitting on the foot of your bed. She plays nervously with her fingers and looks up at you as you slowly enter the room.

"I'm sorry"

You don’t see why she apologizes, but you decide not to ask her a question right now. Instead, you climb in the bed behind her and pull her against you, reversing your bed habits. Usually, it’s you in the role of the little spoon. But this time, she willingly nestles against you and you gently rock her, leaning against the head of the bed.

"Can we talk about it?"

She nods again, but remains silent. Looking for a way to start the conversation, you realize that you feel her heart beating against your skin, testifying to the strength of her emotions.

"Ale, you know I would never do that, right? Cheating in any way. I care too much about you to risk losing you. I only look at you."

Alexia obviously heard you, but you realize she seems to be grappling with words. She never has problems finding the ones that are necessary to motivate her teams or to reassure others, it seems to be another thing to find those to express her emotions. This isn't surprising, once again the number of people to whom she opened must be counted on the fingers of one hand.

"Ok, let me try to help you. How did you feel when you came into this hallway?"

"I wanted to rip her head off."

Well, that was rude but clear. You find yourself trying not to laugh.

"Something else?" you asked, hiding your smile in her hair.

You couldn't do it for long though, since a few seconds later Alexia gets up to sit and face you.

"I know you would never do anything like that, but that doesn’t stop me from fearing losing you. If I told you that I trust you, but I don’t trust others, would you understand the difference?"

You nod and replace a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I don't care about the others, though"

"I know I'm beeing stupid b..."

You interrupt her by placing a finger on her lips, making her look up at you for the first time since she spoke again.

"Don't. You're not stupid because you feels emotions Alexia. You're an human, not a robot"

"I don't know what to do with all this emotions" she mumble.

"Talking to me can help?"

You try a smile and she gives you a smirk back. That's a beginning right? You take her again against you and she half sit on your lap, her face against your shoulder. The silence is this time more relaxing and you feel Alexia relax in your arms.

"Thanks for getting me out of there before the others saw me like that."

"Always here for you, Love."

********

But Alexia can be possessive too.

As time passed, she learned to deal with her frustrations differently. When a girl has looked at you for too long for her taste at a party for example, it isn't uncommon that you find yourself the next day with scattered hickeys all over your body. Your bond has continued to grow and your understanding to evolve to the point that you can understand each other only in a few seconds, without even having to speak.

This connection has obviously been noticed by almost everyone, but there are only two people who can brag about knowing Alexia perhaps better than you. Alba, her little sister, but especially Eli, her mother. This one is grateful to you for regularly bringing her eldest daughter home, apart from the weekly diner organized at home. At first, you refused to accompany Alexia, preferring to let her spend time alone with her mother and sister. But, when your girlfriend informed you that her mother was about to sulk you permanently, you ended up going every week.

"Here you are at last!" Eli said the first time you went back.

You laughed and gave her a hug before you went to greet Alba. If Alexia quickly dragged you into the family lounge to watch their usual series, Eli eventually commandeered your help in the kitchen. Laying a kiss on Alexia’s head who hums and smile at you, you obviously agreed and found yourself peeling carrots with your mother-in-law.

You expected remonstrance from what you told Alexia, but instead you find yourself facing Eli’s inquisitive gaze.

"You swear to tell me nothing but the truth?"

"Uh… yeah?"

You are intrigued but also a little worried. You don't see what you could have hidden from her, but she has the same effect on you as when you have to pass the security gate of the customs at the airport.

"It’s been weeks since you were seen here. I thought you and Alexia broke up and she didn’t have the courage to tell me."

"Oh… no, everything is fine between us" you assured her by turning your attention to your carrots.

"Really? You’re not pretending to be always together so you don’t worry me?"

"Promised"

You smiled at her and after a few seconds scanning the blue of your eyes, she responded to your smile. Realizing that Alexia has the same way of looking through your eyes amuses you a lot.

"Why would you worry anyway?" you ask, frowning. "Alexia could find someone else in a snap of the fingers."

Eli snorts and you turn your attention to her.

"Maybe she could, but I sincerely doubt that she will find someone as good for her as you are. She hadn’t been with anyone for a long time before you came from your freezing Norway. I was genuinely afraid that she would never find someone good enough for her. I never asked you if you want children or getting married like I know Alexia want to, because I know that the bond you both have will take you where you have to be."

What could you have said to that? Nothing. So you cut those damn carrots, lost in your thoughts. You are obviously convinced that Alexia is made for you, otherwise you would never have been with her for so long. But you never claimed you were made for her in return.

After the carrots, you attacked another kind of vegetables, always in silence. Hearing your mother-in-law talk to you about marriage and children is rather peculiar, you never really touched the subject with Alexia. You obviously noticed the way she behaves with children and it makes your heart melt every time. You know she’ll make a good mom when her turn comes, but you don’t know if she wants to have that with you. You don’t even live together right now, after almost a year of dating. Even if you are more at her home than at yours.

"What have you done to my girlfriend?"

Not seeing you coming back to her, Alexia ended up leaving her couch to come see what’s happening in the kitchen. She knows you well enough to realize that you are lost in your thoughts and not necessarily light things. But by your side, Eli gathers the vegetables in a pan to start cooking them.

"Nothing, we were just talking mija."

The look Alexia gives you is uncertain and you give her a small smile that you hope reassuring. (It’s not). Eli sends you back to the living room and you follow your girlfriend to finish the current episode. At the end, Alba decrees that she has a call to make and Alexia takes you with her to the garden. Her fingers are tangled with yours and you looked up at the sky that darkens when she draws you against her. You let her do it and you find yourself facing her, her hand coming on your cheek. This gesture intrigues you, not that Alexia isn't tender with you, but you wonder what is behind her head.

"Are you ok?"

"I am"

You answer and, taking advantage of your proximity, you kiss her softly on her lips. A few seconds later you pass your arms around her neck to extend the kiss, enjoying of this sweat moment during which you get lost in all of her. But Alexia, determined to know more, finally backs down to plunge her gaze into yours.

"Talking to my mother about things you don’t want to talk to me about now?"

Alexia has arched an eyebrow and looks amused, but you know perfectly well that behind this light air, there is a real concern. You laugh gently though, taking the time to kiss her again before answering her.

"Do you want children?"

"I… What?"

"Living with me? Getting married?"

"Y/N - "

"Maybe get a brother or a sister for Nala?"

"A pomeranian?"

You laugh slightly but shake your head gently. Without releasing your hands around her neck, you back your face a few centimeters to have a better view of her.

"Have you ever thought about a future together, you and me?"

Alexia bites her lip and slightly tilts her head to the side while looking at you. The length of time it takes him to answer you creates a knot in your stomach and you detach this time your hands around her neck. You’re trying to pull back a little more, but Alexia’s arms around your waist are holding you back.

"Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?"

Well that’s a bad start. You only frown for answer and look forward to the rest.

"The first time I saw you, I knew. I knew you would be the one I wanted to live with. I want everything you just described, even though the second dog didn’t come to my mind."

You smirk and arch an eyebrow. As she spoke, you felt your stomach relax and your heart rate drop. But you don’t interrupt her, having learned over time that if you wanted to know more about her deep thoughts, you have to let her talk.

"You were more than patient with me, you knew how to get to know me and understand me better than anyone else. I fell in love with you the very moment you walked into the gym, half hiding behind Ingrid."

The scene is still fresh in your memory and you laugh softly remembering it. You were impressed, more than ever, to be faced with world-class players.

"I know my jealousy is sometimes difficult to deal with, but I really love you more than anything. And I don’t even want to imagine my life without you."

You find yourself without words, for once in the role of the one who is unable to find the right terms to mean what she thinks. You are not used to receiving such statements from your girlfriend, the latina preferring to cover you with attentions and gifts.

So you just pass your arms around her neck and kiss her with everything you have. This kiss is passionate and intense, it makes you completely forget the place where you are currently. Alexia tightened you impossibly close to her and the blonde took the opportunity of a moan from you to slip her tongue between your lips. Both lost in your embrace, you only take a few seconds between each kiss to catch your breath before starting again.

You can’t tell how long you’ve been kissing here, but you’re still grateful that it’s Alba who surprised you rather than your mother-in-law.

"Oh wow, I’m going to have to wash my eyes with bleach" she exclaims as she puts her hands on her eyes. "Diner is ready"

With that, she goes back inside and you laugh slowly before putting your attention back on Alexia. With a smirk, she kiss lightly your neck while whispering "We will resume this conversation later".

********

Over the years, Alexia’s jealousy has continued to punctuate your life. But she always kept a healthy jealousy, never accusing you of anything.

There was for example the time when you went out to a restaurant during your summer vacation. No one seemed to recognize you, allowing Alexia to feel particularly relaxed and comfortable with your physical proximity. You were surprised at the beginning of the stay when she takes your hand in her when you strolled around town or when she joined you on the same deck chair to enjoy a sunbath while cuddling.

The restaurant you booked that night was highly recommended by Ona and Lucy, who had come to the same place some time before. You failed to swallow your gum when you saw Alexia come out of the bathroom after putting on a red dress that showed nothing more than necessary but that made her breathtaking. More than usual.

And she may swear you’re the prettiest of the two, but you don’t believe it for a second. You must restrain yourself so much from letting your eyes slide over her body, in places that only you have the honor of knowing at your fingertips, that you don't realize Alexia’s growing annoyance towards your server.

It's true that he perhaps insists a little too much to know if everything is fine and that he has a strong tendency to talk to only you. It's only when you notice that Alexia’s jaw is a little too tense that you realize that something is wrong. You gently place your hand on hers and caress her skin with your thumb.

"What is it, Bonita?"

"Nothing, don’t worry."

She smiles bravely at you and since she doesn’t want to talk about it, you don’t insist. Instead, you draw her hand to your lips to lay tender kisses. The smile coming back on your girlfriend’s face, you leave this information aside until the end of the meal. After dessert, you forbid Alexia to spend any penny and pay the bill. When the waiter gives you the receipt of your payment, you slip it in your bag without thinking about it for a single second.

After a walk hand in hand, you return to your suite, secretly in a hurry to get rid of your high heels. In truth, you are so in a hurry that you decide to remove them just out of the elevator, highly amusing Alexia.

"Where’s the room card Bebita?" she asks smiling.

"In my bag"

You hand it to her and sigh of relief as you feel your feet breathe again.

"Maybe I will be able to still play football after all" you grumble as Alexia searches your purse for a few seconds, giggling about what you just said.

The sweat sound stop rather abruptly though, making you raise your eyes on her. She was livid. Regaining your seriousness, you take a few steps in her direction and you question her at the same time when she resumes speaking.

"Ale?"

"What is it?"

You frown as you look at the piece of paper she holds in her hand, realizing that this is the receipt you had slip into your purse when leaving the restaurant.

"The restaurant's bill?" you answer, not understanding what was going on.

"No. This."

Despite her calm voice, you see her hand shaking as she approaches the paper from your face. And there you see. The waiter thought it clever to write his phone number in hand, accompanied by a small annotation. "I finish at 0h, call me ;) " Your face drop and you raise your eyes on Alexia again, feeling a wave of panic going through you.

"I'm not... I didn’t see that he wrote that, I never would have taken it! Alexia I swear."

You were scared, really. Alexia had never been as relaxed as she was on this trip and had never behaved the same way with you outside the four walls of your shared apartment. You were terrified that it would make her step back or worse, that she would think that you might be interested in him somehow.

But you soon realize that if she’s angry, it’s clearly not against you. Furiously opening the door of your room thanks to the magnetic card she finally found, Alexia enters like a furious. And you follow her on tiptoe, dropping your shoes next to the door that closes behind you.

"Alexia?"

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Alexia roars, making you wide-eyes. "Wasn’t it visible enough that we were on a date? I’ve practically been drooling over you all night and if your eyes could undress me I wouldn’t be wearing my dress anymore."

Laughing may not be a good idea right now, but your girlfriend’s phrasing still amuses you a lot. You bite your lower lip to avoid to do it and grab her by the arm to prevent it from spinning like a propeller in your room. Drawing her against you, you pass your arms around her waist, unable to access her shoulders. If you got rid of your high heels, this is not the case for Alexia although she is only five centimeters taller than you without it.

"We don't care about him. I’m only yours, Alexia, for as long as you want me."

"Don’t say that kind of thing where you’re gonna get stuck with me for the rest of your life" she grunts against your hair.

"Can’t wait."

[zekie78]

Platonic Yandere Strawhats finding a abandoned child and taking them in

𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿

You were drifting, you were cold and you only asked in a low voice where your parents were, this was just going to be a normal day ... A normal fishing

This day was a sunny day, your father told you that they were going fishing just beyond the reef, as there was a big herd of fish coming in for the season, so you, your mother and father ventured out to sea, beyond the reef. Everything was fine until suddenly a storm suddenly caught you (the changing weather of the Grand Line).Since your family were fishermen for obvious reasons from an early age, you were taught to swim and fish.

So in the blink of an eye you were in a storm and your boat, being very small, only needed a wave to hit it and break it, you felt from one second to another the water, one second more your mother screaming, your father under water and the other .... You were alone

But while you were crying not seeing your parents you saw in the distance a boat approaching, you couldn't distinguish which boat it was because of the storm so you just tried to scream for help and fell down in a faint.Again and again you heard your mother's scream , your father under the water .... And the boat was like a loop everything was going on until suddenly you woke up.

All of a sudden you saw that you were in a bed , you looked around and saw things that would belong to a doctor , you sat on the bed and even with the sound of the sea raging in your ears , you pressed the sheet but everything would pass when you heard that the door y open and Into a "Racoon?"

Then - "I'm not a raccoon, I'm a reindeer" from the already located by Chooper entrel to see you, from one moment to another 9 more people were in the room, several men, a couple of women, a skeleton and a very large man and metal. That's when they began to introduce themselves and ask you what had happened and why they had found you on the high seas before answering, you started to cry because you remembered once again the accident and the storm, which everyone noticed but you felt hands coming out of god knows where and started to wipe away your tears. After that you introduced yourself as "Y/N" and you were 10 years old. Even after that explanation you were fed by perhaps the best cook, the man Brook played the most energetic tunes to get you out of your depression.

And so began your life with the straw hats Luffy is like your big brother and you always played with him , Ussop and Chooper you liked his attitude but there were times when he played with your cheeks , squeezed them and hugged you after that.

Zoro on the other hand was Tough as he would always come in but for strange reason he wanted you there with him or watching him or teaching you some moves, all well and good. But the weird thing is when you were sitting and before he took his nap, he would take you and sit you on his lap and hug you like a cuddly toy.

With Ussop you always knew he was lying, but sometimes he would start to say some words that you didn't like -" I can't believe that in a moment you would want to leave, without us you wouldn't be able to come".

Nami well, at the age of 10 years old you already owed more than 10 thousand berry and you didn't know why "-Ransom fee, fee but membership, not because you are a kid you are saved"- that changed when you were next to her drawing whatever, while she was on her maps but sometimes she looked at you and asked her to be the one to keep your drawings which she didn't do and took it with her. Robin so that it would not be seen as an attempt to leave the ship and it shows in the drawings.

With Brook you only hung out with him when you were feeling depressed and asked him to play you a song to relax you. Franky is the one you had the most fun with, his encouragement, that he always wanted to get you involved in his work made you smile and so on. Robin, with her you got on a maternal side , it was her who was going to wake you up for tomorrow and it was her who sent you to sleep..... The strange thing is that she always wants to see your drawings, to know what you think and you always know that she is watching you because you want to be alone and you see an eye on the wall, to know what you are going to do, everything about you, something that was supported by the captain.Since they all knew one thing By a miracle they got that gift, tender, small, perfect influencer How would you let go of your adorable child

[5a-alf]

The more i think about my experiences in military school, the more i realize the ravens were probably run similarly (if with a harder lean on the cult part) so i wanted to make a post explaining how quickly and even just how new ravens fell into group mentality.

[[Disclaimer: i think my experiences are like,, quite similar to some of what happened in the nest to the general raven but for them is like upped to 200%. We can argue the army is type of cult but not one as tightly run as the ravens probably were]]

The answer to the first is: pretty quickly. Let's say, a month is enough. After that first month, if you were to take them out of the environment they'd be quickly fine again, but they'd already be familiar with the mentality and would follow it if left in the nest. Different kinds of people react differently to the same conditions, but i do think Tetsuji choose ravens also based on their personalities/character, because each year only 4/5 people got into his team out of the thousand kids that play exy in high school, so he could choose for talent but also for drive and ability to listen to orders ecc. This eliminates the hardest type to break down, which is people who are naturally oppositional (like,,, any fox for example). He's looking for good soldiers.

Then, you are now allowed in this super niche private luxury club; there's only other 3 new people. One of them is now your partner forever and ever. What happens? You give EVERYTHING you have to be better than the other duo. That's only natural, there's a first place and a last place because only two couples are in this race; you need to win. What do you do to get better? You look for guidance in the older people around you. Some will ignore you, some will engage with you, but always with an air of superiority. You yourself are somewhat struck by their presence, as maybe you saw them play on television before, or speak in interviews.. you know of them, and that already puts you a step under them. That's power that they hold over you.

Now. There's rules in the nest. Do you think they were written? Do you believe for a minute that the new ravens were given a brief the first week, to let them know all about what is and isn't allowed? No. The rules are silent. You notice them because you can't miss the punishment that inevitably happens when you break them.

You sit in the wrong chair - someone screams at you.

You use the wrong tshirt - someone beats you up.

Well, now you won't sit it in the chair anymore, or use that tshirt in that specific instance, but you know what else you won't do? Sit in any chair you haven’t sat in before. Wear a tshirt you haven’t yet worn.

It takes that little.

Then with time comes confort. Months go by and now you now most of the rules, you're fine. Then you reach your second year, and there's new people... who will teach them the rules? You. Especially if they sit in the chair that is specifically reserved for second years. That's yours. And you feel you've earned it by making it through the year; that's a rule, isn't it? And you have a lot of pent up anger, because you are juggling school and training and you haven't had a pause in more than a year, you haven't seen your family or your pet or your old friends.

You yell. You beat them up.

The funny thing is, even when you just follow the rules to keep the peace, do it "ironically", to avoid having problems, at some point... it comes naturally. You get more and more comfortable with what you once found wrong, or not even wrong, but probably pretty stupid. Because the thing it: it's easier to oppose things that are glaringly wrong. You don't start teaching a new raven how to prey on kids. You start with something that maybe makes no sense, but also has no consequences, especially moral ones.

Why wluld you fight so hard for a chair. You can have another. It's not even that comfortable. It's not worth being yelled at. Just leave the chair.

And then, slowly, it escalates.

And the more time you spend inside, the more you let go on any of the hangups you had outside, because it genuinely starts to feel as a different world, where different societal rules are in place, and when you literally do no engage with the outside world for years... you forget how it used to be. You forget who you used to be.

Being there rewards you.

The more time passes, the more power you acquire. Now you can even invent new rules, as you like. It goes to your head fast.

There's so much more i can expand on, 1) shared pain 2) what happens after you graduate 3) what roles do the adults have in all of this 4) relationships (yes, same as the ravens, we were also not allowed to have romantic relationships; there were consequences ecc) 5) REHEARSALS AND GROUP MOVEMENT 6) public outings and perception.... and i could go on and on.

Let me know if you want me to expand on anything in particular

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 7 - Paint It, Black

📜Life is messy. And complicated. And writer blocky, with a dash of imposter syndrome... I just want to put that out there... Anyway...

Well, the poll won out. You all want to know what Jake said to Midge. This is solely a flashback chapter. I can't say I'm surprised at who you all disliked in the last chapter, though I hope this one will give you some insight into why Midge has held on to this for as long as she has.

Special thank you to @teacupsandtopgun for helping me to write a certain part of this! You can thank her for the puns! And @sarahsmi13s for taking a peak at it!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, flashbacks, Halloween college parties, school, angst, sexual themes (overhearing), drunkness/inxotication. I mentioned angst, right? 💀

#8k <- yes, i know

Part 6 | Masterlist | Part 8

*Halloween Four Years Ago*

Giving orders to a football team to put up Halloween directions was not an easy feat. They were kids in a joke shop, only too happy to take every opportunity to jump-scare each other with a spider, a white sheet or slide out from behind a door and shout boo! 

Despite the antics, you were grateful for the help. Nat and you wouldn’t have finished in time. And even then, you suspected Nat probably would have given up halfway through, merely deciding to throw Yellow Caution Tape on the walls and call it a day. 

You wouldn’t have stopped - even if it became a doomed effort. 

Bradley’s friends weren’t what you expected them to be. True, their appearance fit the bill a thousand times over. Tall, broad shoulders and bulging muscles were all the product of hard work - including Bob, who was smaller than the rest, though not by much.  Even their mannerisms, from how they acted childish and goofy to how they winked or playfully flirted, everything you saw played into the stereotypical type that was the classic college football jock. 

Then you got to know them—really know them—and hated yourself for ever associating them as such. 

You already knew Bradley and had met him on occasion. When he stayed over to be with Nat, he was often up before you, and you’d chat with him over a cup of coffee. He always brought her a cup to wake her up when he could, and it always made you smile. 

His story was a sad one. His father passed away when he was only two years old, leaving his mom to raise him alone. While he couldn’t regale you with his memories of him, he instead offered you the stories attached to his father’s things: a button-up Hawaiian shirt in pale pastels, a pair of coffee-brown Ray Ban sunglasses, and even a worn Milk chocolate leather-strapped bag he used to lug his books around campus. 

Then, his mom passed away in high school, and his father’s best friend took him up until the point decided to leave for school. Bradley chose his words carefully when he spoke of any of them, offering little, and you wondered if the loss was still too much for him to bear. 

Or something else had happened, and he didn’t want anyone to know. 

 But as you helped him blow up a few balloons for the floor, a song from a later decade played through the speakers, and Bradley lit up, producing a smile wider than the nearby Jack-o-lantern. He launched into a story about how much his parents loved music and how his father would play the piano, which alone made him want to learn. 

You asked him if and when he did if he’d play for you one day.

Javy Machado, however, couldn’t be more different from Bradley if he tried.

He was just as meticulous as you when it came to detail. The two of you were discussing the best way to tape Velcro to the kitchen cupboards to stick fluff to the sides and mimic cobwebs when you discovered this fact. He was … quietly smooth and persuasive, with a suave smile that indicated he could charm his way into or out of any situation he wanted without needing to flirt or play it thick. 

“Angle it like this, Maeve,” he had explained, stretching the piece out. “Principle of maximum contact area equals maximum adhesive stretch.” 

You had raised your eyebrows at that remark, which prompted him to chuckle softly. 

"Science major," he shrugged with that smile, making your internal monologue stutter to a halt until you went, "Wait... What?!" 

He only laughed at your reaction, amused in a way like he’d been expecting it. But it was that look of genuine interest in his eyes that made you ask him properly. 

He didn't know what field of science to specialize in, but Javy made all of it sound amazing. From stars to not dirt—it's soil—to understanding how the world worked, he knew he wanted to spend his life trying to figure it all out. If he could throw a ball around and be part of a team with his friends, he considered himself fortunate to do both. 

Even if his passion was so far removed from your own, you may have seen some of yourself in his journey, trying to fit in while doing what you loved most. 

Holding up a string of lights against the wall, Reuben Flitch told you he was floating through school, waiting for the day he could finally be free. On that day, he’d take over his family’s business. Comparing him to the fractured story of your brother and sister following in your parent’s footsteps never seemed to cross your mind. 

Because when you asked what the business was, his face lit up with an enthusiasm you hadn’t expected. 

“My grandparents own vineyards," he had beamed. "They've been in the family for generations. I've grown up with the land, the grapes, and the entire winemaking process." 

He told you stories of growing up, playing through the vines and rows of trellises, making you long for the rows of apple trees at Aunt Viv's. He also talked about spending time with his grandfather, learning the process of pressing grapes and his grandmother tending and picking the grapes. He spoke about the people, everyone from the gardeners to the people who bottled the wine to his siblings, with whom he'd played hide-and-seek within the cellars. 

He told you a business major was worth it, as much as he loathed it, if he could own the place one day.  

You hoped he did. 

But Mickey Garica and Bob Floyd were... characters, to say the least. It was easy to talk with them, even laugh with them, as the three of you spread tiny black spiders all over the apartment. 

Mickey couldn’t stop asking if you could paint him one day, though you imagined it would be fandom-inspired rather than a realistic portrait. The second you asked him about his favourite universe, he launched into a word vomit of praise for each and every one. He spoke of Lord of the Rings, Marvel, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Batman—not DC—as the character deserved to be separated from the rest. 

It made you wonder if the one portrait would be enough. Still, you happily humoured him, saying you needed the practice. 

He was in Health Sciences, hoping it would be enough to get his foot in the door to become a firefighter. He talked about it so passionately, about being capable of making a difference and saving lives, that you honestly couldn’t see him in any other role. 

And given the opportunity, Bob was so full of sass and witty comebacks to the ones you managed to throw his way, you were surprised he was seeking an Anthropology and Archaeology degree. He seemed to have a natural talent for what Comedians had labelled “crowd work.” You honestly would have taken him for a drama major had he not told you differently.

However, once he explained his choice, you understood why. Growing up, having been a Boy Scout, learning about nature, rocks, and life. He wanted to know more about life, history, and how things were. 

A visit to an archeological dig site in high school sold it for him. His eyes lit up when he spoke about ancient civilizations, lost artifacts, and all the mysteries surrounding human evolution. He rattled off facts about Neanderthals and cave paintings, which had you urging him for more. 

He happily obliged and was encouraging when you offered a few that you knew of. 

All of them were so passionate about what they wanted to do with their lives, even Bradley, who wanted to pursue football seriously as a career; you admired all of them for it with your entire heart. 

But Jake Seresin was... you didn’t know. Nor did he, it seemed. 

Jake was there at your side every time you went back up that ladder, claiming someone needed to catch you should you fall again. You had rolled your eyes, a slight smirk gracing your face, but you let him all the same. 

He wasn’t as open as the others, wanting to flirt with you more than anything else. Somehow, you managed to get him talking about football, and when you asked him why he played, he admitted that his father had gone and played at the school. He had been urged to apply, and his family would support him throughout his entire ride. 

“Family money,” he said, his tone light when you gawked at him. You didn’t ask what his parents did, but knowing he came from a rich family, you wondered if he didn't want people to know. You certainly didn't. Nat didn’t know, at least not yet. 

It prompted him to add his parents weren’t pressuring him into one career or another; they simply wanted him to keep up with the sport. So, he was buying time and taking electives, trying to figure it out, though he would have to make a decision soon. 

And it made you wonder, under that confidence, under that layer of charm and ease on his surface, if he was searching for what everyone else in the group had already found. While everyone else didn’t fit the stereotype, you wondered if Jake was attempting to mould himself into it. 

How you wished to tell him, he didn’t have to. 

But Jake wasn’t a painting you could tear apart or theorize about. And as you pinned that last streamer to the ceiling, you realized over the course of the afternoon, you’d unwittingly developed a bit of a crush on him. 

You weren’t stupid. You recognized the signs the second he caught you off that ladder. The second he handed you that shot. He was laying on the charm, the flirty glances, the playful smiles. Even the slight touches on your waist as you leaned back, pining streamers to the ceiling, were waving the red flags in your head. 

Jake was either genuinely interested or actively looking for someone to hook up with tonight. 

It wouldn’t be you, that’s for sure—not even for someone so charming and handsome as Jake Seresin. 

In the last two hours, the guys took turns getting ready first while everyone else finished with the final touches. They wanted you and Natasha to go first, but you vehemently refused, knowing they’d ruin hours of hard work if left unsupervised. 

You also wanted to see this through to the end, but you kept that to yourself. You had revealed enough of your quirky, artsy side to them. You did not need to add to it by gushing over the decorations or how the entire apartment turned out, possibly damaging whatever relationship you'd established so far. 

People were weird when it came to shit like that. 

Jake and Bradley emerged from Nat’s bedroom just as the two of you were headed toward yours. The hallway was already lit in a deep red from the lights now neatly strung up in the corners of the ceiling. Though the sun was beginning to set, shining warm light through your window, you knew the total effect would be entirely eerie when night rolled around. You couldn’t wait to see it.

Bradley was dressed as Indiana Jones: a white shirt, a brown leather jacket, and a fake whip at his side. His outfit was complementary to Nat's Marion Ravenwood, her costume the classic white dress from the first movie you spent a while making. Though she did ask you to take some creative liberties with the design, the dress was more risque than necessary. 

The only thing remotely movie-accurate about it would be the puffy sleeves.

You couldn't help but whistle when Jake stepped out from behind Bradley. Instantly perking up at the noise, he let out a sly smirk and straightened the lapels of his deep black leather jacket. 

"Danny Zuko, huh?" you laughed softly. "Guess you've got the whole 'bad boy' vibe down." 

Jake smirked at you, copying one of the iconic character's signature moves by sliding his hands into his black leather jacket pockets as he strode by. "Only missing my Sandy. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find one, would you?" 

You coyly peered at him over your shoulder as you continued down the hall. Unknown to either of you, Nat and Bradley had stopped to watch the interaction, filled to the brim with curiosity. 

"Wouldn't know. I'm more of a Rizzo myself. Too much sass and not enough patience for leather pants." 

"To get into them or to get out?"

With a glimmer in your eyes and a smirk on your lips, you pivoted to face Jake completely, still walking backwards. “You're quite the smooth talker, aren’t you?” 

Jake shrugged, giving off the vibe of, ‘I can’t help my reputation.’ However, you could see the easy grin on his face, and one side of his mouth crooked upwards, making him appear boyish—just like the character he was dressed up as. 

It made your heart flutter inside your chest. 

“It’s a shame I’m more into the rough-around-the-edges type,” you teased softly, pausing by the corner. 

Liar. Oh, you horrible liar. 

Jake’s grin didn’t disappear when you saw him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, arching an eyebrow. Instead, it turned into a knowing smirk.

“Is that so?” he teased.

You flushed, at a loss for words. Jake's teasing gaze lingered, and the lift in the corner of his mouth suggested he saw right through your lie. Your cheeks burned hot. 

Jake's chuckle echoed softly down the hallway as you made your escape, somehow making your heart race faster. You didn't dare look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner and down the hallway to your bedroom.

As Jake retreated back into the apartment, Bradley coughed lightly. He exchanged a knowing look with Nat, who had been watching your retreat. He jutted his head once toward you, and Nat replied in kind with a single tilt of her head toward Jake. 

They didn’t need to say aloud what they were thinking. They’d talk about what they discovered later, but it wouldn’t stop them from pressing this interesting development further. 

When she reached your room, Nat found you already in your robe, sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair. You had already laid out your costumes on your bed earlier in the day, and Nat raced to hers the second she saw it, making grabby hands at the fabric. 

"Ahh, it turned out so great, Maeve!" she exclaimed, grabbing the top and holding it up. You glimpsed at her through the reflection of your mirror, smiling when she hugged it to her chest.

“If I had made it any deeper, Nat, you’d be showing off more than just dangly bits.” 

She blew a raspberry at you. You giggled, shaking your head.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do couples costumes. I never thought Bradley would go for it,” she said after a while, standing next to you and straightening her hair in the mirror of your vanity.

“Really?” you asked, concentrating on not poking your eye out with your mascara. 

“How else am I going to shoo off all the girls practically clamouring to get with Bradley? It’s a nice way to do it, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe. Not every costume as a twin, though,” you said, lowering your hand to gesture to yourself. You hoped Nat would at least acknowledge the effort you’d made or pep you up for a party you'd originally never wanted to hold. 

“What about the Danny wandering around the apartment ‘without his Sandy’?”

You dropped your hand from where you had started fixing up your other eye, glaring at her reflection in your mirror. “Really, Nat?” 

“What, you don’t dream of a little Summer Lovin?” 

You felt your face flush. As if Jake would ever really go for someone like you. “It’s Halloween, Nat.” 

“Exactly. It’s Halloween, and it’s getting colder. Maybe you’ve got chills, and maybe they're multiplying.” 

You groaned, dropping your head and smacking it against your vanity. 

“You’re sure he’s not the one you want?” she bumped you with her hip, grinning.

“Can you stop with the Grease puns? Please,” you squawked. 

Nat laughed, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she stepped away. "Okay, okay. But if you change your mind, I think Danny Zuko out there wouldn't mind being 'the one that you want.'"

Fingers wrapping around the handle of your hair brush, you didn’t lift your head from the vanity as you chucked it in Nat’s direction. She laughed hard, and you didn’t need to look to know you had missed her completely. 

Nat eventually cajoled you into helping her slip into her dress, adjusting bits and pieces of fabric here and there. You sat back down at your vanity as she twirled once in the mirror, declaring she was satisfied. Then her eyes went to the door, and her attention shifted to Bradley and what waited beyond it. 

"Are you okay if I go out? Do you need any help?" Nat's voice was laced with excitement, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation of finally having a party as she smoothed down the sides of her dress.  

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. Nat didn’t meet your gaze. "No, I'm good. I only need to touch up my makeup, and my dress is a slip-on," you smiled. "Go make sure Bradley keeps his hat on." 

Nat wiggled her shoulders, biting her lip to mute her squealing giggle. The puffy sleeves of her short dress waved with her, and she precariously tip-toed out the door on her high heels. Once in the hallway, she dramatically yelled, "Come and get me, Indiana Jones!" 

You stifled a giggle, shaking your head, allowing yourself to turn back to face your mirror.

Staring at yourself, you searched every part of your face, making sure your foundation, blush, eyes, and lips were just how you wanted them to be. You toyed with a strand of curled hair, wondering if what you had done was enough—if all of it had been enough. 

Then your eyes came to rest on your costume, so carefully draped across the end of your bed through the reflection in the mirror. 

You're not sure why "Flaming June" happened to be your favourite painting, though you supposed it had to do with the girl in the painting so casually draped across that seat next to that fountain. She was curled up almost like a serpent, covered in sheer transparent vibrant orange, the painting's only bright pop of colour.

The painting was supposedly meant to depict nymphs, sleeping Greek nymphs for that matter, or even Victorian society's obsession with beauty. However, you argued differently in the paper you wrote for it.

You cared more about the juxtaposition of fire and tranquillity in the piece than about whatever cultural influence or social construct it had at the time. That one girl was at the centre of the painting, wrapped in sheer, see-through colour. She was meant to be the focus; that much was certain. 

Maybe you thought her dress signified the chaos of the world around her, and all she wanted to do was find a moment of peace. 

You’d spent countless hours at the fabric store trying to match the correct shade. Once you had completed parts of Nat's, you spent even countless more at your sewing machine, staying up late to make progress on yours. 

And each time she asked you to make alternations on hers, the more drastic you made it to be ‘just that much sluttier', the more you thought about what you could do to yours. In the end, the thin straps holding up your dress, revealing bare shoulders and the long slit between your breasts, ending just before your belly button, was all you could stomach. 

You held the dress up, contemplating your thoughts. You could do this. You could survive one simple Halloween party - one simple college rager party. 

Right?

———

The second the apartment was starting to flood with arriving guests, Jake realized you hadn’t emerged from your room with Nat.

He had been off to the side near a bookcase, talking with Bradley, hoping to stave off the crowd and the rest of the football team for a little longer. He knew they'd want to talk football and strategies for the season, and Jake simply... didn't. 

He wanted a night off. He wanted to relax and have a good time. And talking about football wouldn't be it. 

Bradley had said something to Jake, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He was too busy searching the gathering pods of people for your face. Why, he didn’t know. But he was eager to find out. 

Bradley snapped his fingers in Jake's face, startling him from his search. "Earth to Jake!" 

Jake shook his head, focusing back on Bradley. "Sorry, what?" 

Bradley raised his eyebrows under the rim of his fedora. "What's going on in that head of yours?" 

Jake regarded him for a few seconds before finally looking down at his drink, bringing it to his lips, admitting, "I'm just looking for Maeve." 

As Jake took a drink, Bradley grinned. "She's probably still getting ready. Nat said her costume was based on her favourite panting." 

Jake didn't even look up from his drink when he asked, "What's her favourite painting?" 

"Why? You looking to make a good impression?" he said, still grinning. 

"Fuck off, Man," Jake snapped, taking another swig to finish his drink. Bradley only laughed, now shaking his head. He would have let Jake simmer in his ask, but this was you. He had to give Jake at least a decent running chance. 

"It's Flaming June, the chick in the orange dress. It's a brilliant costume idea. She made it herself." 

Of course, you would have made it yourself, Jake thought. 

"Surely you came across that painting with your 'rich upbringing.' Nat was practically force-feeding information down our throats a few seconds ago to ensure we recognized her costume. It’s some Freddie Luigui piece. I don't know." 

"I know it," Jake snapped. "I've seen it before." 

Jake was pretty sure he had, maybe once at one of his father's fundraising parties, though he actively searched his mind, trying to remember what it looked like. 

Bradley remained silent, slouching against the bookcase and crossing one leg over the other. He narrowed his eyes at his friend and tilted his head. 

"Why the sudden interest in Maeve? She isn't one for..." Bradley trailed off, searching for the correct word. Just as Jake was about to ask him what he meant, Nat's approaching heels on the hardwood floor stopped them both. 

She stopped at Bradley's side, red solo cup in hand, looping her arm through his. "What are you two handsome boys gossiping about over here?" she giggled at her boyfriend, her chin plopping lazily down onto his bicep. "See any snakes in the crowd, Indy?" 

Bradley pulled his face back into a grimace, reciting the famous line. "Snakes. Why does it always have to be snakes?" 

Jake rolled his eyes at their banter, placing his empty cup on the table between them. Nat giggled, tilting her head back, indicating to Bradley she wanted to be kissed. He complied without protest, leaning down, pressing his lips to hers in an overly dramatic display merely to piss Jake off. 

"Get a room," Jake groaned, mocking a wrenching noise. The couple separated, turning to Jake with amused smirks. "You've heard and seen far worse, dude." 

Jake shuttered, the unwanted memory of walking in on Nat and Bradley from weeks ago flashing through his mind. Sharing an apartment with Bradley had its moments - some good, some decidedly less so. It made him wonder if Maeve had to put up with the same shit he did. 

“Where’s Maeve?” Jake asked Nat, ignoring Bradley's remark. "I haven't seen her yet."

Nat opened her mouth, about to tell him you were still getting ready, when she caught sight of a flash of orange stepping out from behind the corner of the hallway. You came into view, your head angled down, mindful of stepping on your dress as thin streams of transparent fabric trailed behind you at your sides. 

Javy let out a low-toned whistle from somewhere in the room, and heads turned, one by one, as you took your final step into the apartment. 

“Damn girl, you clean up nice!” 

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see eyes on you. Javy glided forward to greet you from where he had been standing at a nearby table, and you smiled at him, though a little weary. Deep down, you knew his comment was meant to be a compliment. But something coarse, like sandpaper, rubbed against your heart at the remark, lingering longer than you would have liked. 

“What? Not bad for a fine arts major?” you joked somewhat deprecatively, though your voice held none of it. 

Javy held out his hand, and you grabbed it, allowing him to lift it above your head. With a pump of his wrist, he urged you to spin under his arm several times, letting your dress fan out. You giggled as he urged you, though you wobbled on your heels. The dreaded things were Nat's only contribution to your outfit, and you were severely regretting it. 

He let you go, thinking you had your footing on the last, slowed spin. But when you came to a stop, you were on the verge of falling over, your head dizzy, and your legs unbalanced. 

To his credit, Javy tried to reach out and steady you, already regretting the step he took back. However, before he could, another pair of hands, one on your hip and one taking your hand, steadied you. 

Jake’s hands were firm on your skin, pulling you close as you lost your balance. You fell into his chest, head tilted back, half falling over. And looking up at his face, seeing the amused grin on his lip, you drew in a sharp breath at the sight. 

"Letting me make a good first impression?" he quipped.

“By catching falling women?” you laughed breathlessly, bringing your free hand to his chest. If you had let your hand stall slightly longer than necessary, you would have never admitted to it.

“Seems noble enough,” he replied, helping you to stand. Though he might have let go of your hand, he didn’t let go of your waist. “Or do you make it a habit to test the reflexes of every guy you meet?”

You couldn’t resist the playful jab. “Only the ones who seem like they can handle it. And the pretty ones.”

Jake's grin widened, and he even risked sneaking a quick peek at your lips, letting them rest there for a few seconds before his eyes roamed the rest of your body.

"Flaming June, right? Frederic Leighton's Masterpiece."

You blinked in surprise, letting out a small gasp. You honestly expected to tell people what your costume was, not just some girl in some random orange dress. Jake's knowledge of the painting, let alone his identification of it so quickly, was scoring him some major brownie points. 

"You know your art," you commented nonchalantly.

He shrugged, "I might know a thing or two. I always had a thing for the classics. By the way, it suits you." 

You practically preened under his gaze. "Thank you," you said, a shy smile creeping onto your face. He beamed at you in return. 

Yes, you might have a crush on him. But for the first time that day, you figured it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

—- 

This was a bad idea - Oh, this party was such a bad idea.

Believing you were having a good time and actually having a good time were two separate things. You certainly felt one of those things. As the night went on, and with each drink you tipped back, alcoholic or not, regret built in your stomach. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe you were seeking reasons where there initially were none, allowing Natasha’s suggestions to slowly chip away at your resolve until you finally gave in. Maybe it was the promise of letting loose, to embrace the spirit of Halloween with all its creative potential.  

Maybe it was the promise of making new friends. Of getting to know people outside the art department. Natasha had told you to mingle. She wanted you to mingle, and yet... you didn’t know where to start. 

You didn't expect Nat or Bradley to coddle you, but they could have introduced you to a few people besides the core group before things had gotten this bad. You didn't dare approach Javy or Rueben, who played beer pong and chugged beers back like it was nobody's business. They were off doing their own thing, and you didn’t want to intrude. 

 Mickey and Bob had gone home earlier in the night. Bob proclaimed he had a midterm to study for, and Mickey wanted to go home anyway so he could call his family in peace. You strongly suspected he wanted to watch Halloween movies instead.

Rocky Horror sounded like a wonderful idea right about now. 

You couldn’t hang around Nat and Bradley all night, either. And nobody from your art classes would even dare set foot inside a party where nearly half of its guests were from the sororities.

You knew that. While you did extend the invitation, you told them you wouldn't blame them if they didn't come. They had looked at you with such disregard you wondered if they were seeing you through newly polished rose-coloured glasses. And standing up against the wall next to your bookcase, like an insipid wallflower, you could hardly blame them for it either. 

You couldn’t introduce yourself in a place where you were the outsider, even within the walls of your own home. Soon after the first few attempts, that realization settled deep into your chest. And you couldn’t help but feel like you had done this to yourself -  an attempt to be part of something like this, even if just for a night.

But Jake… Jake was still here. At least, he should be. He had been by your side for the beginning of the evening, talking to you about what projects you were currently working on over another drink—not whiskey—after you had started to hiccup while putting up decorations. 

After he recognized your dress, you weren’t ashamed to tell him. You had launched into the ideas and thoughts behind two paintings and one sculpture, an old table that you were trying to turn into an elemental-type sundial. You told him about the zodiac signs you had already burned into the wood after sanding it down and how each was placed in its own little section as it related to its element. 

You had reached halfway through your thought process when you realized how lost you were in your explanation. You froze mid-sentence, blushing harder than the colour of your dress. 

"Sorry," you had said. "I ramble when I get excited about my art.” 

But Jake’s interest hadn’t waned. If anything, it urged him to ask, “How did you find something you're so passionate about? Creating things... making art?"

His question had made you pause, though not over what to say but merely how to say it. “It was my voice when words fell short or my escape when the world grew too loud.” 

You caught a glimpse of something in Jake’s eyes—a flash of longing, a momentary crack in his confident demeanour. What followed was a slight nod. It was there, and then it wasn’t, as if he’d accidentally revealed more of himself than he wanted. Then he caught himself, suddenly straightened his spine, and continued the conversation as if that brief lapse in judgment never happened in the first place. 

Ten minutes later, he excused himself to get another drink. And you hadn’t seen him since. 

You scanned the room for him, hoping to spot that black leather jacket among the sea of people. But it was impossible. Under the dim, eerie glow of the lights, each costume blurred into the next, and the crowd swallowed any hope of finding him.

Reaching for whatever mixed drink Nat had made you earlier off the table, you pushed yourself off the wall, weaving through the throngs of people, figuring you might as well try to see if she knew where he had run off to. 

Liquid sloshed over the rim of your cup onto your hand as you dodged a zombie here, a fairy there, and music pulsing like a heartbeat through the packed room. Laughter and snippets of conversations swirled around you as you scanned the sea of faces, both masked and not for Nat. 

Glasses clinked, a witch cackled, and the scent of spiced pumpkin mingled somewhere in the mix with the tang of alcohol and body sweat. By the time you spotted her leaning heavily against the kitchen Island, red cup in hand and her laughter too loud, eyes slightly unfocused, you knew the night had taken its toll on her sobriety. 

She was too preoccupied with telling a bunch of people a story to notice how you quickly launched the contents of your cup into the sink behind her. You extended your arm when you were close enough, looping your arm around her waist. Her arm came up at the same time, sliding across your back to pull you close. 

Nat tilted her head back onto her shoulders, glancing at you with happy eyes. "Maeve!" she whined tipsily. 

Given how far gone she was, you were surprised at how accurately she pronounced your name. She bent slightly, still holding her red Solo cup in her hand, to hug you tight, her face smooshing into your neck.

“It looks like you’re having the time of your life,” you snorted. She nodded against your skin, biting her lip in a smile with a happy, drunken snigger. She lazily pulled back to meet your eye, and you smiled at her. 

“Have you seen Jake around?” 

Nat paused, her gaze flickering around the room as if she'd genuinely forgotten about him, though she didn’t lift her head off your body. "Jake? Oh, I haven't seen him in a bit,” she slurred slightly. “Why? Do you two likeeeeeeeeeeeeeee each other? Is Jake going to make you scream grease lightin’?” 

You reached for her red Solo cup and pried it from her hand. “Okay, yup, you're cut off.” 

“Nooo,” she pouted her arm a dead weight as she tried to take it back. Her hand hit the bottom of the cup, and liquid shot up, once again covering your hand in whatever type of alcohol Nat managed to mix together. You could only sigh. 

“Here comes the fun police,” she muttered under her breath. “I thought you’d be off doing your own thing.” 

Well, that fucking stung just a tiny bit. 

“I’m not going to be the one who cleans up your vomit tomorrow morning, Nat.” 

“I’ve only had,” she held up her hand, widening her thumb and pointer finger probably further apart than she thought, “this much to drink.” 

“Ahm...”  

Luckily for you, Bradley appeared, having seen what was going on. He looked amused yet concerned as he slid between the gap of the island and Nat to observe his girlfriend babbling nonsense on your shoulder. “What’s happening here?”

Nat made another grab for her cup, but Bradley gently intercepted her, taking her hand into his before she could even grasp it. 

“That,” you offered. 

 “I think it’s time we get you to bed, love,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist. You let him take her, happy for him to bear her weight. 

Nat leaned into him, mumbling something incoherent, a mix of protest and agreement. Bradley spared a glance at you, silently thanking you in your unspoken agreement. You nodded, watching as he sandwiched her to his side and carried her off towards her room. 

It always seemed like one of you was always taking care of her. At one point or another. 

After getting rid of Nat’s cup, you felt the sticky residue of both of your spilled drinks on your skin and felt the urge to run to the privacy of the bathroom to wash it off. Stumbling down the hallway, blusters on your feet finally making themselves known, you let your hands casually slide along the wall. The music from the party faded into a muffled, dull noise as you walked. 

You wanted to smile at the lights. The red eerie glow along the top corners of the ceiling only reached not even halfway down the wall, plunging the floor into a dark abyss. You clumsily stuttered through it, unable to see anything below your waist.

It was exactly as you pictured it, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to manage the slightest grin. 

The bathroom door was down at the end of the hall slightly ajar, with the red LED light illuminating its edges from behind. You zoned in on it like a wobbly arrow to a target, tired and completely done with tonight and everything about it.

You reached for the curved handle, about to push the door open, when a high-pitched giggle came from behind the piece of wood. You shot your hand back like you had been burned, and with a quick turn of your heel, you plastered your back up against the wall. 

You immediately knew what was happening behind that door, and it made you throw up in your mouth just a little. 

Ugh, I’m going to have to disinfect the hell out of that bathroom tomorrow. 

The next voice you heard, however, made your heart drop into your stomach. 

“You like that, don’t ya, sweetheart?”

You didn't want to believe it, but you had to see for yourself. Leaning forward off the wall, you peered through the crack in the door, only to spot a black leather jacket taking up most of your view—the same black jacket you had complimented Jake on earlier that day. It was a stark contrast to the red glowing light above him, and something snapped in your heart and recoiled back as one slender bare leg in beige fishnet stockings wrapped around his. 

There was an overly drunken and seductive 'ahm,' forcing you to glance over his shoulder at the girl he was with—her costume was a bejewelled Taylor Swift outfit to match her long blonde hair. 

You swallowed your bile and adverted your gaze, pressing yourself back up against that wall, out of sight and hidden completely from view. 

You knew this was a possibility; Jake was merely looking for a hookup and nothing more. You had considered it all afternoon. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel utterly hurt at the sight. 

"I mean, Nat's pretty clever befriending that girl.. what was her name, Maeve?" the girl snickered. 

"I know. It sounds like something out of those weird fantasy books everyone loves." A whimper from his companion followed Jake's breathy and muffled laugh.

At the dig, your hand went to your chest, your heart thudding painfully under your palm. The realization they had been talking about you, about Nat, made tears flood your eyes. 

You didn't understand it. Or maybe you did, and you were too blinded by the possibility of someone like him, someone like Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Rueben, to beat the fucking pyramid scheme and care about someone like you. 

What other explanation was there except the fact you had been blinded by those who proved to be the exception? Blinded by the fucking elementary school crush cause he had flirted, smiled, joked, and maybe even showed some half-decent interest in you. Clearly, the second he figured out you weren’t going to hook up with him, he sought his sights on someone else. 

Jake wasn’t trying to mould into the stereotype. He was the fucking stereotype.

"Even her costume," she sneered. "Like, who the fuck dresses up like that for a college rager Halloween party? You're supposed to dress up slutty."

You couldn't speak, staring down the front of your dress to what you had thought had been a risky enough slit. You couldn't even breathe. 

"You kidding me?" he laughed lowly. "Bradley was practically screaming at us what she dressed up as. I'd have no fucking clue what she was otherwise. I'd guess some random Greek Godness obsessed with that awful shade of orange."

Your hand slid up from your chest, around your throat to feel your harsh, rough swallow. Only it didn’t stop there, suddenly finding yourself wrapping it around your entire mouth, stifling any noise wanting to escape. Through shaky inhales in and out of your nose, you fought hard to stop yourself from crying over this. 

Over him. Over a fucking jock who would say anything to hook up with a girl. Only to get his dick wet. 

But you couldn't prevent the tears from welling up in your eyes, or from one finally spilling over, dropping down your cheek only to stall there, or how the hand covering your mouth curled up around your cheekbone, only to stroke away the tear. 

You refused to look back at the door through the crack, so you fixed your gaze on the darkness consuming the ground. And as you lowered your hand, you caught the ugly black smear marring your skin.

 How could you not? Standing in the glow of that red hallway light, it was the only thing you could see.

The artistic irony hits you like a freight train. Here you were, dressed as the girl in your favourite painting. Her dress had been the only bright shade of colour in the entire painting, and you, standing in the top half glow of bright red LED lights, had failed to notice what had been staring you in the face all along.

Orange was muted by red, and black bled through all. The only thing about you that stood out the entire evening was this tiny black mark scarring the back of your hand—black tears from smeared mascara.

"I would have guessed an orange," the girl snickered, quickly followed by a mewl. "Though she practically blended into the wall, I couldn't see her with the lights." 

Lips plucking on skin echoed off the title and out the door, and Jake drew in a ragged breath as he agreed. "She did blend right into the fucking wall, didn’t she?"

Your eyes burned. The girl giggled. 

“How long do you think this one will stay? She seems… different, to say the least.” 

Jake sniggered. “Seriously, you think Natasha Trace is hanging around that girl out of the goodness of her heart?” 

His laugh was so full of malice that it was nothing like the ones you had heard pleasantly filling your ears earlier. 

“Everyone knows after what Nat did, she needs an image clean up. Playing the saint, befriending the weird loner art girl, giving her the best friend badge?” 

“If she thinks she’s got a place in the big leagues, she’s in for a rude awakening,” the girl murmured. “Pathetic. People like her don’t belong with people like us.” 

There was a pause. “It’s just like Natasha, though. She always needs an audience, something to validate her feelings. It’s brillant really.” 

Jake's agreement was a silent blow, his next words the dagger. "Nat's smart. She knows how to play the game. Maeve's just...convenient."

Convenience. The word echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your already crumbling self-worth.

“Give it a year. Trace is going to drop her the second the next new shiny person comes along. And everyone is going to forget about the little art girl she used up and discarded. Or she’ll become the most hated girl on campus.” 

Without your back up against the wall, his words might have made you crumble into that dark abyss. 

“Can we stop talking about her now?” the girl whined. “I thought you promised to get me off.” 

Jake chuckled lowly, the sound morphing into a low, predatory growl. “You brought her up, sweetheart. But don’t worry—I’m all yours now.” 

You pushed yourself away from that wall, stumbling down the dark hallway to your bedroom out of instinct, refusing to subject yourself to any further torture. But just before your door, you fell into the wall, your shoulder throbbing as you slouched against it. 

The world around you swirled, leaving you consumed by one thought—and one thought alone.

That. Fucking. Asshole! How dare he! How fucking dare he!

To hear Natasha be demeaned, your friendship demeaned and used as a stepping stone in pursuit of a meaningless hookup... anger boiled under your skin. You didn’t care what he or what they had said about you, but Nat? 

If Jake thought he’d succeed in sweet-talking you, to play you like a puppet on a string, just as he assumed Nat had been doing, he had another thing coming. If he was going to talk shit about your friendship with her, you’d show him just how spineless you could be. 

Oh, he’d wish he’d never caught you off that fucking ladder. Wished he had never met you and flirted with you, obviously a ploy to find someone to hook up with. You gagged at ever having a crush on him in the first place. 

But as you leaned against the wall, trying to steady your swirling thoughts, doubt wormed its way into your mind.

What if he was right? 

What if your friendship with Nat was just a convenience, a way for her to maintain her status or recover from her sorority fallout? You knew nothing of it, nothing more than what she told you. There could be more to the story, things she hadn’t revealed, things nobody else had either.

 No, you shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. Nat had been there for you in ways no one else had. 

Jake was just an asshole. Plain and simple. 

But then another thought sucker punched you in the gut. 

You couldn’t tell anyone else what he said. You wouldn’t be responsible for causing that type of drama within a friend circle, one that long before you ever showed up. They never would have believed you anyway, and Nat… she worked so hard to get out, escape the rumours and gossip, to put it behind her. She didn’t need to know about this.

You had no choice but to carry this burden alone. It was a lonely decision, but perhaps loneliness was a small price to pay for the semblance of harmony among friends—or so you tried to convince yourself.

But Jake. You could no longer give a rat’s ass about Jake. If he wanted to attack Nat, then fine. You hit him right back. That much you could still do. 

Whatever had possessed Frederic Leighton to name the piece you currently embodied, “Flaming June,” whatever possessed him to gift that girl with fire in her name, that fire was suddenly born in you. 

A flame that sparked and kerosened your soul to burn, hot and bright. It was a wildfire that rushed under layers of skin and ignited every nerve, ending with a ferocity you never knew you possessed. It was born to protect what you had found - Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, Javy and Rueben. And that fucking asshole would never be allowed to put you down, Nat down, like your family did, ever again. 

Pushing yourself off the wall, you stepped into your bedroom. Slamming the door, the lock clicked hard into place. 

It never opened the rest of the night.

NOW YOU KNOW....

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[optimisticgrey]

Sighs. Okay, listen up.

I am going through a rough time right now and usually process by writing. A lot.

So here we are.

Gale's Sneaky God ending is fascinating to me. I know I will most likely never play it because I'd cry too much but I enjoy exploring the idea in writing.

I tried to write this for genderneutral reader, there is no smut.

Just loss, self-loathing, fear and some angst.

This is dark.

In the wake of your departure, Part 1 - Denial

Pairing: Unnamed, genderneutral Tav (Bard/Sorcerer but not really relevant) ; Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart, Halsin, Astarion, Jaheira and Minsc mentioned

WC: 1290

Summary: You stand at the docks of Baldur’s Gate, the Netherbrain is slain. You watch Gale leave to retrieve the Crown of Karsus. It takes you very long to realize he is not coming back. This is what happens afterwards and it burns slowly.

Warnings: Just loss, self-loathing, heart-break and fear.

Song recommandation: Ludovico Einaudi - Experience

Read on AO3

The moment he lets go of your hand, you already know.

Deep down, you have always known, haven’t you?

The truth has lingered beneath the surface, buried under layers of hope and denial.

You told yourself a thousand stories, each one carefully constructed to shield you from the inevitable.

But as his fingers slip from yours, that fragile shield shatters, and the truth rises, raw and undeniable.

You call out to him before you can stop yourself.

Your voice trembles, heavy with everything you cannot bring yourself to say.

You are frozen in shock and fear, your body unwilling to move.

Your mind unable to comprehend.

He turns, just for a moment, pausing long enough to offer you a smile.

It is so simple, so heartbreakingly beautiful.

For a moment, you forget to breathe.

The setting sun frames him in golden light, softening his sharp features and making him look almost ethereal.

It is the image that will haunt you.

You know it, in this moment, you just do not realize it yet.

A fleeting, fragile instant where he is everything you love, bathed in a golden glow too perfect to last.

If you could freeze time, you would choose this moment.

And then, he is gone.

He will return, you tell yourself.

He promised.

There’s no reason to doubt him, is there?

He has set out on a task.

An impossibly hard one, perhaps, but one that only he can complete.

He will reforge the Crown, perfect its design, and present it to Mystra.

She will take it, and in return will free him from the orb’s suffocating presence.

He will come back to you.

Surely, he will be Mystra’s Chosen once more.

This is what you tell yourself.

Over and over again and again.

This is what was promised.

The task ahead of him is monumental.

You remind yourself of that, too.

It is not a simple spell or a quick ritual.

It is arcane physics intertwined with Netherese magic, a discipline so complex that you cannot even begin to comprehend it.

He is an Archmage, one of the finest of this age.

His skills are nearly unmatched, and now, after everything you have faced together, he is closer than ever to regaining his former brilliance.

If anyone can succeed, it is him.

So, you wait.

Halsin’s invitation to accompany him to Reihtwin is kind, thoughtful even, but you decline. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of his unspoken concerns. He holds you longer, presses you closer and adds a quiet kiss to the top of your scalp when he departs.

When Karlach and Wyll ask you to join them in Avernus, the temptation to escape is almost overwhelming, but you shake your head again.

You stay.

You wait.

At first, the distractions help.

You throw yourself into the city’s recovery efforts.

Jaheira and Minsc are tireless in their mission to rebuild Baldur’s Gate, and you work alongside them, coordinating resources and workforce with Ulder Ravengard.

You ensure aid reaches those who need it most, fight off scavengers who prey on the vulnerable, and oversee the Flaming Fist as they restore order to the streets and clean up the remnants of the Steel Watch.

The city begins to heal faster than you expect.

Streets that were filled with rubble and despair last week, hum with life today.

Taverns reopen, markets buzz, and laughter returns.

For most, life resumes its rhythm.

But for you, the days blur into a hollow monotony.

Your lute sits untouched in the corner of your room at the Elfsong Tavern.

You have not picked it up in weeks.

The melodies you once played with ease now feel distant, tangled with emotions too raw to face.

Instead of creating, singing, or writing, you retreat into the estate Astarion secured.

It is a stunning property in the Upper City, perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The sweeping views of the horizon and the luxurious comforts it offers are undeniable.

Yet, the beauty feels hollow, a constant, aching reminder of what you’ve lost.

Every morning, you watch the sunrise, and every evening, the sunset, standing on the balcony as the light shifts across the water.

But the sight doesn’t bring peace.

It only sharpens the ache of his absence.

By day, you throw yourself into the city's recovery efforts, shaking hands, attending festivities, coordinating rescue operations, and wearing a smile that feels more forced with each passing week.

At first, the façade holds.

But as time drags on, the weight of it grows heavier each day, and even pretending becomes an exhausting chore.

When night falls, the city becomes your escape.

You join Astarion, wandering the lively streets, visiting bustling taverns, and exploring vibrant markets.

People recognize you, their greetings warm and full of gratitude.

Free drinks are pressed into your hands, flirtatious smiles and whispered invitations offered in abundance.

Each time, you decline with the same response. “I have someone waiting for me.”

The words spill out automatically now, a reflex more than a conviction.

Yet, every time you utter them, you notice Astarion’s gaze lingering on you a little longer.

His concern is palpable, though he says nothing.

Instead, his demeanour changes.

He becomes gentler with you, careful in his words and actions.

At first, the tenderness was only shown during your shared nights.

A bottle of wine he genuinely enjoys, conversations that tiptoe around deeper truths.

But gradually, it becomes his everyday behaviour.

His glances linger, his tone softens, his patience stretches impossibly thin, all without him saying a single word about what he sees.

And in his silence, you feel both comfort and excruciating guilt.

Every morning, you walk to the docks after ensuring Astarion is save asleep.

Continue on AO3

[hangesdarling]

YOU WRITE FOR THE KAKAGURI GIRLS?

yumeko jabami with her house pet reader please

deception — y. jabami

PAIRING. Yumeko Jabami x female reader SYNOPSIS. You’re a housepet that caught Yumeko’s attention. CONTENT. Suggestive content, no explicit smut, kinda fluffy in a way WORD COUNT. 1.0k A/N. yepp anon, i write for kakegurui too! i love the manga so muchh

You're always one to hide your intentions cleverly. Masked by a gentle voice, temperate manner, and vulnerability, the housepet ID around your neck had deceived all. But not her. Yumeko Jabami's eyes are too sharp for your deception.

As everything in Hyakkaou Academy was arranged, it all started with a simple gamble. It was around break time and while most games are ongoing, the game room you came from became a parade of dejected faces. Housepets wishing for another chance to free themselves were met with greater loss, those who are far too greedy and risky have a brand new housepet ID around their necks, but you... Yumeko cannot miss the subtle smile curling at the edge of your lips despite another hundred thousand yen weighing on your shoulder.

You were too lost in your musings to even notice the presence of the girl approaching you. At first, you thought she was just a sweet, thrill-seeking girl who had too much money to spare. You accepted her gamble, thinking it was common for the likes of her to gamble recklessly. 

You were having fun, giving in to her charms as you charmed her back with your smooth words. However, the understanding began to dawn on you like a pile of bricks halfway through the game. Yumeko's game was never a game of luck, none of the cards played could ever win without the level of intuition Yumeko has. 

It was a simple game of three rounds that ended with your loss and yet, Yumeko had already gained the information they needed from you after you won the second round.

After that game, your hand shook as Yumeko enthusiastically took it between hers. You tried to laugh it off, telling her the game got you nervous, that's all. However, the fear rose in your throat as Yumeko gave you a knowing look, one that pierced through your soul and tore away the shroud you concealed yourself with. I can see through you, her eyes spoke. 

This is the end of your deception. This girl with sharp eyes and a deceiving smile came so suddenly and tore away your facade.

Yumeko looked at you, a blush creeping on her cheeks as she caressed your hands between hers. You swore that her brown eyes turned red as she said, "I look forward to gambling with you again, Y/N."

Your hand retracted from hers, and a nervous smile crept on your face as you chuckled, "You sure about that? You can bury me in debt, haha..."

Yumeko giggled softly. That euphonious laugh worming its way to your heart, "Don't think that would happen, Y/N."

———

You know very well that this girl could be the very death of you. Her presence in your life had your persona teetering over the edge, your desire to gamble with the student council becoming stronger. But it was getting hard to hold back whenever you were gambling with Yumeko. The excited glint in her eyes urged you to use all your wits and all the cards up your sleeves. It was like being squeezed out of all the strategies hidden within you for the sole purpose of being a gratifying thing to her. No matter how much you deny it, Yumeko became a newfound fascination you're trying to detest. Whenever you two were left alone, Yumeko couldn't help but be touchy, asking all kinds of things whenever she was kissing you, or sometimes playfully tugging on your housepet ID when she desperately wanted you close.

Yumeko always sees through everything, tearing at the filter of things to get through a more interesting reality. She knew the mutual desire and understanding brewing between the two of you. It wasn't just the heated gambling sessions, or when she pulls you into a kiss but rather an inner, less pronounced desire to seek thrill and fascination within the other.

Her schemes are so lovely, unforgiving, and remorseless, one that dances along with your resolve. After a gamble with one of the student Council members, she wore a housepet ID like a garland, even pulling you close just to tell you how beautiful your cruel necklaces match.

Yumeko gave you that one esoteric gaze only you came to understand. The hunger to gamble. The hunger for something else only the both of you could see.

Gambling came to be Yumeko's life the first time she held a dice, and you've become the love that fueled her desire. The one where she found a divine, almost cosmic understanding. Each touch melts the both of you into one, a mold made to be together to either strike fear or fascination.

At one point, she pulled you aside, hugging you to her chest as her hands wandered around you in a deep desire to bond. You took her blushing, heated face into your hands, relishing her desirous gaze before your lips met hers. The warm brown of your lover’s eyes gazed at you with a perpetual tinge of red. Her gentle arms encircled your waist, creeping a tender hand beneath your skirt. Yumeko wanted to feel every inch of you, the soft smile on her lips contrasting her eyes filled with intent to have you. No one ever came near to the place where you stood in her heart, not even the most insane gambler in the academy.

Yumeko admires your far-reaching mind, and desire to win something more than a stack of money. You carried the humiliation of being a housepet for a greater desire for power. A fault stirring the hierarchy, a quiet force caving away the foundation of Hyakkaou Academy. You were so quiet, yet so poisonous—the perfect dangerous weapon loved by her hands.

Yumeko shared your desire. She wanted to watch the beautiful collapse of this depriving system. After all, every system was bound for ruination to make room for the creation of something tremendous.

Let's gamble to our heart's content, she would say, and make it sound like a chaste confession of love and in her own way, it was.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[ashisill]

My love

Warnings: Past relationship trauma, past sexual trauma, crying, panic attack, fear of oral. This is all handled very gently by our beloved Jacob.

This was written for myself to find comfort in. If you struggle like I do I hope this reaches you.

(Unedited I was in a hurry to get this posted)

~

Jake has never once asked you to do it. Except for some reason your so afraid of letting him down. Jake is the only person who knows everything you’ve been through. You were hesitant the first time you two were intimate. Instead of pressuring you he held you as you explained your past to him. Wiping away your tears when needed. It was only few months later when gave yourself to him. He treated you so gently that you shed a few tears when it was over.

“What’s wrong my love don’t cry?” Scared to death about your sudden outburst, but keeping it calm.

“I just love you so much. Your way to nice to me. I don’t deserve you.

“This is how you should have been treated all along pretty girl. You deserve to be loved”

He’s always so patient with you. Never once attempting to pressure you into anything. Which is why you can’t understand why you feel it’s so important to go down on him. He’s done it to you a thousand times. You feel as if it’s unfair for Jake. Though that’s never been a thought in his mind.

~

You were laying on his stomach while a movie played. You started to gain some confidence, and gently touch him through his sweats. You tilted your head up to look at him. “What’s on your mind sweet girl?”

“Can I?”

“Only if you feel comfortable sweetheart”

You nodded your head, and threw the blanket over you. You pulled down his sweats, and kissed him through his boxers. Everything was going smoothly until you freed him from his boxers. You hesitated, but continued anyways. He grabbed your hair, and started guiding you. You took him in your mouth, and tried to keep yourself calm. It was actually happening, but you couldn’t focus on him. We’re you ready for this? You were already doing it, but is this what you wanted? You pulled off, and started breathing heavily.

“You alright down there?”

“I’m fine”

You lied to him, but you didn’t want to tell him you were freaking out. You just continued on thinking as it went on you would calm down. Except you weren’t, and then he pushed you down you gagged around him. You immediately pulled off, and tears threatened your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m just gonna go to the bathroom”

“No no sweet girl come here” he grabbed your arm trying to comfort you, but you pulled away. You locked yourself in the bathroom, and sat on the floor. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and tried to breath. It didn’t last long as you began to panic yourself.

Jake laid on the bed worried sick about you. He knew you needed your space, but he wishes you didn’t leave the room. The worst case scenarios popped into his head. Before he could stop himself he was knocking on the door.

“Baby” you didn’t respond. “Can you talk to me please? Let me help you”

“I’m fine Jacob”

“You only call me Jacob when your not fine. Please let me in”

You opened the door with watery eyes. “Pretty girl what happened?”

“I don’t know. I just freaked out. I don’t know why I always fucking do this.”

“Don’t be down on yourself. Your not ready, and that’s okay. Healing takes time, and your trying to rush it”

“But you”

“What about me? Have I ever complained about it?”

“No” you shook your head.

“Exactly. Your putting pressure on yourself. If you decide you never what to then that’s okay. I’ll be just fine without it”

“But”

“No no none of that. Let’s go lay back down, and your not gonna think about it anymore”

“I’m sorry”

“No your not. You have no reason to be. No more thinking remember?”

“I remember”

“Good girl. Let’s go finish that movie”

“I think I missed most of it”

“I did too silly girl”

[imightgetbetter]

back in time

i don't even know what came over me, but i basically meshed all these ideas into one and here we are, five thousand words later. i typically love writing long pieces, so we'll see if this becomes the new trend for my writing. as always, be nice and give feedback (reblog and messages and all that). thank you for all the support you've been showing me. it literally makes me so happy. okay bye. have fun reading! content warning: MATURE (if you're a minor, get out of here)

Nearly everything in your quaint apartment is moved out, deconstructed, and sold. Outside, New York City is bustling with movement. Holiday season always is. Mothers dragging their families to the Rockefeller Center Tree and Times Square and the notably known apartment buildings in SoHo. Inside, you are waiting anxiously for the buzzer to sound near your front door, where there is someone on their way to help you gather the rest of your things and move back home. Originally, your mother was meant to fly out and help you, but his willingness and insistence that it would be easier for him to come and help because he knows the area quite well from visiting and you’d already asked him (you didn’t), so he had absolutely no issue flying out for only a day or two to get things moved back home, made it so that she simply couldn’t refuse.

Holidays and special occasions always went like this from as early as you can remember. The Healy’s, The Daniel’s, The MacDonald’s, The Hann’s, and your family, all gathered in someone’s house, sharing stories and alcoholic beverages as the boys wacked and played their instruments and you would sit idly by trying to make yourself seem busy and uninterested. And that worked quite well, you thought, for years. Until one holiday, you found yourself drunkenly kissing Matty Healy on the side of your house, his hands brushing electrically against the skin hidden by a thick sweater. His skin was so warm compared to the harsh winter air around you, and kissing him, albeit drunkenly, made your entire body feel warm.

You and Matty never spoke of it, once you two walked back inside, making up some lie that you needed help throwing out the garbage. No one believed you, but you couldn’t speak of it, ever again. Not once. Mistakes are made when you’re drunk and you were friends and you were friends with his friends and you all grew up together, and it felt like the absolute worst thing you could possibly do. You ignored it, and Matty seemed to not have any cares for the fact that this had happen, continuing to act as he always had towards you. You thought it was a one-off thing, a one-time mistake. Until the next party. Until, when everyone was distracted, Matty was taking your hand and pulling you towards the entry way closet and grabbing your face and kissing you.

And this happened, a lot.

Matty never kissed you sober, which, was somehow insulting and intriguing simultaneously. Could you really be everything Matty wanted when he was drunk, but absolutely nothing more than a friend when sober? Questions like this swirled around your brain every time a gathering happened – which was quite often for you all – and every time, you found yourself drunkenly misplaced in his arms, his lips on yours. Matty never took it farther, never pushed it, as though that was enough for now.

All the one-off kissing was enough, until the day came when you were officially leaving. Your acceptance to New York University did not come as a shock to anyone, especially not your friends. You had always been a writer, from the minute you knew words, you were making up stories. You sat with Matty as he wrote songs, giving him synonyms and telling him if his rhyming scheme was off. You were made for this, and it was your dream coming true.

One last party was necessary, all the friends and family gathered together for one last real party, one where it wouldn’t only be because you were visiting in town for the holidays or the summer. All your friends were gathered on the floor of your bedroom, sitting knee to knee as you all share a joint around the circle and talk about what’s going to happen when you leave.

‘You’ve got to come back for holidays,’ George said, tilting his head back and letting the smoke puff out between his lips. ‘Have to check in and listen to what we’re working on, too.’

‘I’m not dropping off the face of the earth,’ you argue, stealing the joint and pulling it between your lips. ‘I’ll still be around. There’s the internet and stuff in America. I’m not going to the Arctic. You act like I’m never coming home.’

‘Might as well be,’ Matty huffs, the cigarette smoke pooling around his head like a cloud. He’s been the one having the hardest time with you leaving, and everyone could see it. He relayed his happiness for your acceptance, as everyone did, but there was something different attached to it, a different feeling. Matty stood up suddenly, lending out his hand for you, ‘I’m going to go outside for some air. Want to come?’

‘Uh, sure.’ His hand felt warm against yours, and you two slipped out the front door without anyone in the garden noticing. Matty walked you to the side of your house, a spot you remember vividly, and the tension feels weird, the energy is different, like there is so much to say but you want to say nothing at all. ‘You’re acting strange.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Matty says quietly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and leaning his hand on the side of the house. Adjusting yourself slightly, you twisted yourself to be facing him. ‘I can’t handle you leaving. It’s making me lose my bloody mind.’

“Matty, I’m going to school,’ you say, trying to brush away the feelings welling inside you. Objectively, to anyone else watching, this would be the perfect moment to profess your feelings for him, for him to share his feelings with you and tell you that you’re all he wants, and he’ll do the distance and all the things you watch in shitty romantic movies growing up. ‘I’m going to still talk to you and the guys. I’ll be back for holidays and summers. I’m not disappearing.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘That’s not really an option, Matty. My career isn’t here. Nothing ties me to Manchester, besides my parents, growing up here. I want to go to New York. I want to go and experience it and then I want to come back and move to London and be an author and do all the things. Just like you want to be a musician. I wouldn’t be showing up at your house hours before you leave for a tour telling you not to go.’

‘I wouldn’t go,’ Matty says, turning his head away from the wall of the house and towards you. ‘I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ you say, leaning against the siding of the house and tilting your head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up your dreams for your friends. That’s absurd and you know it.’

‘Jesus Christ, YN,’ Matty says roughly, the scratch in his throat accentuated by a wet rasp, and when you look at him, you can see the tears welling in his eyes, ‘you are not just my friend, you never have been. It’s always been more than that, and you know it.’

‘Know what, Matty? Me and you are only a thing when we’re high or we’re drunk. It’s not like you’re in love with me or something!’

‘And what if I was?’

‘Don’t say that to me. You can’t say that to me,’ you say, pushing off the wall and hurriedly walking towards the front door. Matty grabs your wrist and twists you around, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. It’s the type of kiss you read about, the one you watch in movies. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and confused and unsure where to go, only that you need to keep kissing him. Matty pulls away only for a second, giving you a moment to say, ‘You can’t do this when I’m about to leave. It’s not fair, Matty.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Matty rubs your cheeks softly, his eyes tracing over your features, trying to memorize everything about you. ‘I just, I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel about you. You’ve always been more than just a drunken kiss.’ You don’t know what to say, how to feel. ‘I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.’

‘I’m going to be on another continent, Matty,’ you sigh, tears welling in your eyes as you lean your face into his hands. ‘I can’t do long distance. I don’t want to. I want to write and fall in love and fall out of love and have experiences, and I want you to have those, too. I can’t do this, no matter how I feel about you. Matty, we can’t do this.’

Matty knows you better than to ask what he wants to really ask you. ‘Can I come and visit you? Can you come home and listen to the band and write songs with me? Can we get high and talk about existential crises and politics?’ His eyes squeeze shut as you wipe a tear from his cheek. ‘Can I still kiss you?’

‘Yes,’ you say, not specifying which question you’re answering. Matty can decide what the ‘yes’ is to and for. ‘And when I’m done with school,’ you say hesitantly, nervous about the implications of what this might mean, ‘when I’m coming home, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. I don’t want you to ignore every opportunity just because something might happen in four years. Live your life, Matty. And if something happens when I come back, then–’

‘Yeah,’ Matty says quietly, kissing your forehead and pulling his hands away, reaching into his pocket and grabbing another cigarette. ‘I’m going to stay out here; you can go in.’

‘Okay,’ you say, drawing back from him and walking towards the front door, and the further you walk away, the more it feels like you’re walking away from what should’ve been so good.

And this is where you are, four and a half years later. Home is calling, you’re excited to be where you know for a while, especially for the holidays, before heading down to London and making a life there on your own. All of your bags are packed, lined against the wall. Only a few more boxes need to be shipped to your new address, and you have time to do that tomorrow before your flight in a day. All of it is coming together, except for the fact that you have to face what you’ve been actively avoiding for the last four years, because you know it’s going to be something you talk about.

And only a few minutes pass with this thought, because then the buzzer rang, you clicked the button and opened the apartment door, and before you could properly think of a greeting, you’re sucked into his arms, his entire body wrapped around you tightly. He is warm and smells so good, you swear it’s impossible that he’s just gotten off an airplane. His warmth is familiar, a sweet scent wafting over you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him, your eyes shut as you just soak in the silence. He’s quiet, as well, and you know that you both are thinking the same thing, trying to avoid the unspoken energy in the room. You wonder how long it’ll take for him to say something about it, and you wonder how long after that it’ll take you to blurt out the words that have been itching at your throat since that dreaded night you think about often, the night you regret more than anything.

Matty slowly pulls away, grabbing your cheeks and staring at you intensely, and you feel like your whole body is on fire and you can feel the heat of his breath on your mouth, and you want nothing more than to be kissing him, to feeling his lips on yours. His thumb traces your cheek, and he says, “I’m so happy you’re coming home. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m only home for a week. I move to London next week,” you say, and immediately you feel guilty for not spilling out how much you’ve missed him since you’ve been away. “I’ve missed you, more than you could believe.” His smile is enough to make you feel like your feet are floating above the ground, and you have to step away, reaching for a mug on the counter and taking a sip of the warm tea. “I’ve come down with a cold, I’m sorry. I know we have to share a bed and all, but I’ll try to stay away from you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it,” Matty says surely, taking a look around the empty apartment. He’s been here a handful of times, coming to visit here and there and always spending the most amount of time with you that he could, even if that meant sitting and watching you write on your computer for hours. “Do you want to do anything, tonight? I don’t mind staying in if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think there’s a Walmart about thirty minutes away,” you say reaching for your phone and clicking at your screen to try and find a car to take you there. “Don’t feel like, tied to me, while you’re here. I’m okay with being alone.”

“I’m not okay with you being alone,” Matty says without a second thought, grabbing his things out of his bag and opening the door for you, waiting for you to lead the way. He follows you closely and watches you as you stare at the scenery around you. You’ve always been this way, a city person at heart, from the moment he met you, you talked about moving to the city. Granted, he didn’t know that it would be New York City, but he did always know you would wind up somewhere with hustle and bustle, and you would fit in.

“Quit staring at me,” you say, not willing to look away from the sight of the car passing over the bridge. Having to leave feels so bittersweet. On one hand, you are excited to be home, to be living in London and around your friends. On the other, you know that you’re going to miss the city you’ve fallen in love with. It’s been your true love for so long, it feels like heartbreak.

“I’m not staring,” Matty says, turning his head out the window, a smirk fighting to curve across his mouth. “You’re staring at me, now.” His smile is wide when you quickly turn away from looking at him, the view of the store coming in front of you. “Come on, sicky. I’m sure you dragged me here for a puzzle that you certainly will not finish.”

“I will finish it,” you say, rolling your eyes and climbing out of the car behind him. Matty takes your hand, and you can feel electricity and heat wash through your body, entangling your nerves. “I want an artsy one. Not sure which one, but something pretty.”

Matty nods and you walk through the store quietly, neither of you saying much. There are too many unspoken words in the air and neither of you are willing to start the conversation. Matty points towards the aisle with the puzzles, and you follow him, standing quietly as you peruse the options and try to find one that calls your name. Your eyes follow his movements, tallying the new tattoos and the significance of different ink on his skin. You always told him that you wanted a tattoo, but you were never willing to go alone.

“Ah, you can make your own puzzle with a picture,” he says, drawing you out of your trance and towards an advertisement. “Do we have time for that?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. “Could you grab that one? That looks easy enough,” you add, pointing towards a tree of life puzzle on the very top shelf. Matty reaches for it easily, grabbing it and handing it to you to look at. “Perfect, thank you,” you say quietly, taking it from his hands, and without a second though, you kiss his cheek. His eyes go wide, and you can see the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Matty, seriously, don’t even think about it, I’m sick. I can’t get you sick before we fly home.”

“Have I ever cared about anything like that before?” Matty says seriously, turning towards you and taking a step forward, his body dangerously close to yours. “Are you really telling me not to?”

“No,” you swallow, and you can feel every nerve inch into your throat, your heart beating so loudly you can feel it reverberating in your ears. “Are you drunk or high? I don’t,” you pause, thinking very carefully about what you’re going to say next, “this can’t be like the other times.”

“YN, I just got off a plane three hours ago.” His body is now so close, you can feel his chest against yours, his breath hot against your face. You feel suffocated in this moment, too enraptured by the way being around him feels and the way he smells and the way his eyes have not left your lips, not even once. His hands come to your cheeks, a feeling you know all too well. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whisper, and suddenly your breath is taken away by his mouth on yours. Kissing him, it feels like sharing oxygen, like flying. Kissing him, it feels like every wrong decision is right and every bad thing is good. Kissing him, it feels like coming home. Kissing him, it feels like what you should’ve been doing all along. “I want to go home,” you mutter against his lips, and you can feel him smile against you. You can’t see it with your eyes closed, but the way his mouth is leaving open mouthed kisses on your cheek, it’s easy to tell.

“Take me home.”

Three simple words that have so much meaning, so much weight. Take me home. Take me home to your house. Take me home where we can be alone. Take me home where I can finally be with you, the way I’ve always wanted to be with you. Take me home, where we can start something, we’ve been waiting our whole lives for. Take me home, where I can be yours forever.

And the tension is there when you’re getting out of the car, and when you’re walking the stairs to get into the apartment, and when you’re quietly moving about the apartment trying to avoid talking to him about what just happened at all costs. Matty shuts and locks the door behind you, watching you mill about the apartment anxiously as he’s pressed against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. You walk around him a few times, jumping back and forth from the kitchen to grab wine glasses that you were shipping out tomorrow and a wine bottle that you bought specifically for you two to share and the puzzle on the ground next to your makeshift mattress for the next day before you leave. Until finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about the bloody fucking puzzle, YN,” Matty says suddenly, cutting you out of your anxious thought wheel and walking directly over to you, grabbing your cheeks, and kissing you deeply, kissing you hard. His breath feeds you, and you feel like you could exist in this bubble for a long time, never needing anything else. “I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too,” you sigh, a moan leaving your lips as his hands begin wandering around your skin. “I don’t want this to be just a one-off thing, Matty. I don’t want to be a one-off thing.”

“You have never been a one-off thing,” he says sternly, gently tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head with ease. He’s warm, and he’s almost certain it’s not from the heat of your apartment. “I have never, ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” you say, and it’s the very first time in minutes that Matty has pulled away from you to really look at you. His heart softens, his thumb brushing under your cheek as a stray tear falls. All the emotions all at once are hitting you, and it feels like it’s too much, but you don’t want to stop, you don’t want this moment to end. It’s you and him. You and Matty, for the first time, and it feels just how it’s supposed to feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back, back then, and I hope it’s not too late now to say it.”

“It’s not, baby. It’s not too late,” he assures you, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing against your lips. “I am still in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing’s changed. Nothing about that has changed four years later.”

“I love you,” you say, and it’s easy, the words are easy coming from you to him. Matty smiles, leaning down and kissing you passionately, his hands reaching under your thighs and lifting you onto his waist, carrying you a few steps backwards to where your makeshift bed is. “I’m sorry about the bed.”

“Don’t care about the bed,” Matty whispers against your lips, setting you on your feet and working quickly to undo the buttons on your jeans. He’s skilled at this, you’ve noticed, the multitude of times he’s hurriedly worked to undo your jeans at family parties seemingly coming in handy, at this very moment. He’s heard you moan before; he’s made you orgasm, but it’s never gone this far, it’s never been this, and there’s an anticipation killing both of you that you are not willing to play with. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head as you kick your jeans to the side and take a seat on the edge of the makeshift mattress. All you have on is your bralette and a seamless pair of underwear, not exactly the most ideal pairing, but something about it makes this feel even more perfect. Nothing was expected or certain. Like you two. Matty scrambles in his bag for the condom, and you can’t help but laugh watching him. He’s hurried and frantic and you have to remind him, “I am quite cold over here, but I’m not going anywhere. Take your time, I guess.”

“I’m doing my best,” Matty says with a grunt, swearing once or twice before smiling widely and waving the packets in his hand excitedly. “And I’m not an asshole, I just had very high hopes.”

“Extremely high.”

“You’re naked, aren’t you? Doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched hope to me.”

“And my clothes are right there,” you reply back with a smirk, pointing at your jeans and shirt piled together in the corner of the room. “Can put them back on in two seconds and we can go back to that lovely puzzle and my bottle of wine.”

“I’ll run into traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Matty shrugs off his sweater and his jeans, carefully leaning down and climbing over you, his warmth covering you completely. “I love you.” His face leans down and kisses you, the condoms forgotten somewhere beside you and the duvet at the edge of the mattress getting pulled over his back to cover you in extra warmth. “I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to, though. That might’ve killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have made you wait that long,” you assure him, your hands holding his cheeks and threading through his hair. His hips dip against yours, and you can feel him hard and heavy against your core. You want him, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your hands move from his cheeks, trailing down his chest, pushing his boxers down his thighs. He pushes the material off his legs, leaning back onto his feet to look at you in front of him. “I clearly didn’t think this would happen. I’m not entirely, you know, ready.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matty says, his hands reaching behind your back and slipping your bralette off your body, his mouth immediately kissing alongst your chest, ghosting over your breasts and down your stomach. His hands are warm against your, but the goosebumps rising along your body from his touch is invigorating. He drags your underwear down your legs, kissing inside your thighs sweetly before climbing back up to meet you face to face. “I have so many things I want to do with you. You are just so beautiful.”

“You have time, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Matty fumbles with the condom wrapper for a moment, earning a giggle and a muffled laugh from him as he lays his hand over your mouth to quiet the laughter. He leans over you when it’s fully wrapped around him, his mouth heavy on yours. His fingers gently drag alongst your center, your arousal coating his fingertips and earning a moan from both of you. His cock moves easily against you, you’re so ready for him and anticipating this, that all you want is for him to finally be with you. “This is it. You’re coming home. I love you. And you love me. It’s us, now.”

“Us,” you whisper, a moan escaping your throat as he slowly inches himself into you, his forehead falling to yours and his mouth desperately finding yours to kiss you, to swallow your moans and your breaths and feel every part of you that he can. Matty’s arms are next to your face and your feel held and safe with him, like there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong while you’re like this. His hand slides between you, rubbing at the nerves between your thighs and kissing along your neck, your fingers dragging alongst his back as your legs circle around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. His curls are clinging to his forehead with sweat, and you feel like your body is on fire, but it’s something you’ve craved for so long that you’re basking in it, that it’s everything you’ve wanted to feel. His thrusts are driven and hitting the right places and you think that it’s quite possible that you were always made to be together, that his body was made for you to enjoy and you for his. “I love you,” you whimper, your whole body tightening and your nails digging into his shoulders as your orgasm washes over you. His body stills above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and you can feel him release, his body easing into yours. He doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to, and you hate the feeling of losing his warmth.

“Don’t move, baby. I’ll be right back,” he hums, kissing you sweetly as he slowly slides out and removes the condom, and he turns around when you giggle, your eyes fully fixated on his backside. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Is it nice?”

“Very.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head as he walks towards the wall and turns the heat another notch, before walking back towards you and sinking under the comforter with you. He lays on your chest, his hand wrapping around your waist, his fingers dragging along the curve of your side. “You don’t have to be so worked up, now. I know you, I know you’ve been awake all day because you were nervous about me coming.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You were nervous,” he says surely, his forearm supporting his body weight as he trails his fingers up your body and begins tracing your lips. He’s always been enthralled by your lips, by the way they feel on his. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Have you already told the guys?” you ask, turning your head slightly to give him better access to your skin, your eyes remaining closed and only listening to the sound of his voice. Outside, the stars and the moon are shining through the window, casting a perfect light over you.

“Told them what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Matthew.”

“They knew at Walmart.”

“I hate you so much,” you say, trying to hide the smile and the laughter that is fighting its way to the surface with your hands covering your face. Matty pulls your hands away, and you look at him, your eyes meeting his softly. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“I have something that may make you feel better.”

“I doubt that.”

“I mean, the guys don’t know that you’ve given me head every Christmas since you moved to New York, if that makes you feel better,” he smiles, the smirk on his face telling you everything he isn’t.

“And look at that! Tradition just ended. Just in the nick of time for this year,” you say, smacking his arm and turning around in the bed to face away from him. Matty wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kisses your shoulder sweetly. “I’m going to be travelling a lot for work. How are we going to do it?”

“You and I can figure that out,” Matty says surely, kissing the indent of your shoulder once more before gently guiding you to lay on your back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Matty leans down to kiss you, and you hum against him, a content smile breaking apart your lips. “How many of the guys bet on this happened? I want to know.”

“I don’t think it was much of a bet of if it would happen,” he says, his fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead softly. “More of when.”

“Great! Happy to know they think I’m easy, Matthew.”

“Not my fault they can judge a situation! Think about it, darling, you can only sneak off at holiday parties so many times before someone notices.” He’s right, and you know it. “Not to mention, we weren’t very good at hiding it.” His mouth leans against your cheek when you roll your eyes, he knows he’s won this time. “I want to go to Central Park before we leave.”

“Central Park is just landscaping that people don’t take care of properly and tourists littering. It’s practically Sea World for New York City.”

“Can you do anything without posing an argument?”

“No, and now you’re in for a lifetime of arguments. That’s on you.”

Matty smiles brightly because he wouldn’t care if you argued over the simplest things every minute for the rest of his life if it meant he got to be with you.

[fluffysucker]

2. Everything is blue

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

Angst train still going. I promise there is a plot and you will get more Bucky. In the meantime, please share your thoughts and how do you think it's gonna play out.

Likes, comments, reblogs are very highly appreciated

Feel free to correct me if you find any mistakes

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

It was rough. That's all you could think about. However, when anybody asked you, you never said it out loud. You didn't know why. You felt that maybe if you said it was a mutual decision, then things would be easier. It would make a bit of sense. But a part of you knew everybody saw right through your lies. How could it ever be easy?

Some time has passed since you signed the paper, making you officially divorced. Since there wasn't any big fallout between you and Bucky, you were able to settle everything without going to court. Bucky was already offering everything. He would be the one to move out, so you and the kids would stay in the house. And he was paying more than enough child support. The kids would spend the weekends with him as well. As said, there were no conflicts or arguments in the divorce except for your crushed feelings.

The arrangement was working. On weekdays, you had the kids. Bucky would call them daily. Then came the weekends when Bucky would have them. You were still adjusting. You never thought you would be a single parent. It's taking a lot from you to come to terms with your life now. You didn't have the luxury of time. You were a full-time mother along with your job. Your two children counted on you. They needed their mom to be focused and present. And you knew if you let yourself be, you wouldn't even leave the bed. So you bottled it up, kept it all in, acted as if you weren't dying every single day, and kept going on.

But seeing the man who broke your heart weekly wasn't making it any easier. You expected that it would only last for a while, and then Bucky would forget about the three of you. You were preparing for this. However, it never happened. He remained very present in the kids' lives. He kept in touch and knew everything about Lily and Theo. He even put so much effort into reminding the kids of his unceasing love for them.

He was still the best father you could have ever asked for your kids to have. He just couldn't be your husband anymore.

You were cutting the fruits into star shapes, just like they liked it. Then, add them to the bowl next to the crackers and the cheese. Lily and Theo were always hungry when they got back from school. You were expecting them any second now. Bucky volunteered to pick them up today. Both of you had to stay in very close contact for the sake of your young kids. Even if it was so painful to see him, you were willing to go the extra mile. Because your kids were your top priority.

You heard the door opening and your children's voices speaking thousands of words a second. You already knew they would be so happy that Bucky was the one to pick them up. With him away five days a week, the kids were always missing him.

It's a mutual decision to let Bucky keep his key to the house. All decisions regarding the kids were mutual. Other than that, you weren't sure.

"How was your day, sweeties?" You asked aloud as both of them ran to you and hugged your waist.

"It was great. Miss Sally really liked my project." Lily couldn't hide her happiness. She had been putting her heart and soul into this project for sometimes now.

"I knew she would. I'm so proud of you, baby." You pressed a big kiss to her hair. Then you turned to your son to ask about his day.

"It was good. But Karl's mom wouldn't leave us to come home when she saw Daddy." Theo told you as you gave him a kiss on the cheek as well.

You should have expected that. Everyone knew about you and Bucky's divorce by now. By no competition, Bucky was every woman's crush. All the mothers and teachers never even tried to hide their crush on the man. And nobody could blame them. Along with his attractive looks and killer body, Bucky was incredible with Lily and Theo, a true hands-on father. He was also very successful at his job. He was the whole package. But he was yours. And you used to make it clear that you didn't take well to flirting with your husband.

Now, he's not your husband anymore. So you should know that women would be throwing themselves at him. Especially those who already liked him, like Karl's mother. You hadn't thought of this yet. The fact that Bucky is single now He could go out with any woman he desired. He could touch, kiss, sleep with, and even love any woman. Any woman but you.

You shook the idea out of your head quickly. You were in enough pain. You didn't need an addition. You sent the kids upstairs to change, and then they can have their snacks. You turned to look at Bucky, who was standing by the kitchen door in all his glory. It was clear he left to get the kids straight away from work. You always used to tell him how formal attire fitted him and brought out his best features. You frowned when you saw the look on his face. What was it?

"I have bad news." You tried to control your breathing. You weren't ready for any more blows to your face.

"Tony and Pepper are in town, and they want to meet up." You groaned in annoyance. It was better than you thought, but still bad.

Tony Stark and his then assistant, now wife, Pepper, were friends of yours. Not as close as others, but still friends. Tony was one of Bucky's most important business partners. You really liked them. They were good people. However, They were the most extravagant couple you had ever met. Not only were they inseparable, they always had a story to tell. An overtop story for sure. And if they wanted to meet, you would have to meet.

Which was exactly what led you to your current situation.

Sitting in the café, which was clearly Bucky's choice, and you were thankful for that. But you weren't thankful for anything else. Tony and Pepper had been talking nonstop; you couldn't remember for how long. There were so many stories about their work, their new big house, their dates, their trips, and the new intern, whom they clearly were adopting. The list didn't end.

You tried to pay attention; you really did. But you couldn't when you had only one thing in mind. The way Tony had been holding Pepper's hand ever since they got her, drawing circles on it Along with the glimpse you got from their stories, you couldn't help yourself.

Tony held the same reputation that Bucky once did. A ladies man A playboy. A man nobody thought would settle down. However, when Tony did settle down, no one questioned him, and no one warned Pepper about him. Nobody doubted them. You couldn't say the same for yourselves.

"So what about you, guys?" Pepper's voice broke your train of thought. You looked at her with a fake smile.

"Anything interesting?. An amazing trip? Maybe another baby?" You could feel the tears forming in your eyes and the pain rushing through your body at Pepper's question. You quickly got a grip on yourself and managed to look normal again.

"Actually." You turned to Bucky, hoping he would be the one to tell them.

"We got divorced." And he did.

In any other situation, Pepper's loud gasp and Tony spitting his drink on you would be very funny, but not when you were on the receiving end of it.

Bucky moved quickly to hand you tissues as Tony apologised profoundly, which you reassured him was okay.

"When did this happen?" Pepper asked as the shock wore off.

"About a month ago." You let Bucky do all the taking, not trusting your voice to speak.

Another loud gasp escaped the couple. Their reaction had to be the funniest of all the people to whom you told the news.

"We thought it wasn't going to happen." Pepper's quiet voice didn't miss you, giving her a questioning look.

"I mean, we all thought it would happen eventually, but after Theo, we thought that was it. You guys were in for life."

"Yeah. It was kind of really expected early on, but not anymore."

"We used to place bets on whether you were even going to get married or not. We all lost them when he proposed."

You were putting all your efforts into controlling your breathing and stopping the panic from taking over. And Bucky's lack of answer wasn't helping. Did he always have this in mind? To leave you?

You were thankful that Pepper changed the subject. It's better to hear about their overbearing stories than how everybody doubted your relationship from the start. How was it doomed from the beginning?

Did Bucky have answers to all of these questions? You couldn't tell. You weren't able to read the man sitting next to you anymore.

With all this on your mind, before you knew it, you were leaving with a promise to meet again. You and Bucky got in his car together. You kept a little conversation going between the two of you. However, you avoided Tony and Pepper's comments like the plague. And you didn't know if you liked it or not. Would it be better if you knew more?

You've reached your house. You thanked Bucky for the ride and got into the house. You found the house better than expected. Uncle Steve and Aunt Sharon kept things in order. You went to your babies and kissed their cheeks as they were all watching TV.

"Get ready, sweeties. Daddy wants to take you out." Of course, that is why Bucky dropped you off. He wanted to see the kids.

Your kids' very excited squeals were the only source of peace you had lately. They put on their shoes and left right away for Daddy, who was waiting outside.

"How were Tony and Pepper?" Sharon came to help you as you started tidying the living room.

"Great. Did you know Tony got Pepper a huge bunny for Christmas?" You laughed as you recalled one of the many bizarre stories they shared.

"As a matter of fact, I did." Sharon replied as she finished putting the toys in their box.

"We all did." Steve joined the two of you.

"Then you must have known that mine and Bucky's divorce was coming. Apparently, you all did." You didn't mean for it to be bitter. You didn't mean for it to come out at all. It just slipped. Your act cracking a bit.

Steve and Sharon shared a look. They didn't know what they could say. What could they tell you? That they all expected it. But not now. Not anymore. That the timing was the surprise, but not the split. However,was it worth making you feel like a fool who believed in the love of her life? It wasn't.

You quickly recovered and changed the subject. Anything they would say wouldn't make it better. And you weren't looking for answers from them. They stayed, and you chatted for a bit. Nothing too serious. Just filling time instead of being alone.

However, after saying your goodbye as they were about to leave, Steve called your name.

Would it ever stop hurting? Was this really the end to yours and Bucky's story?

"Whatever happened. I want you to know that you saved Bucky's life. You gave him a purpose."

You had to bite your lip to stop the breakdown. You couldn't decide whether Steve's words were enough condolences or if they were only fuel for your fire. All you could do was give him a small smile.

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