#i love my dysfunctional step family!

[todayisafridaynight]

found family for the arakawas aint even metaphorical shits Literal

[freebooter4ever]

wait is that true about hey jude????? must google after work o.O

[fairwinds-safetravels]

.

[kissingwookiees]

wrt to that last poll if my sets of grandparents were ever in the same vicinity i'd actually have to worry more about my grandpas brawling than which one i call grandpa

[riizegasm]

Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)

❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive

❀ word count: ~6.7k

❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene

❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.

❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!

Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.

It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.

Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.

You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.

From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.

“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”

It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”

You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.

You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.

This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.

“Rough night?”

A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.

You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.

“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.

The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”

The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze. 

“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly. 

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”

The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”

“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”

He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”

A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.

“I think I should get back.”

The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”

“Y/N. And you are?”

“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”

An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.

.        .        .

It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now. 

But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.

He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume. 

Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?

More importantly, why had he disappeared again?

The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found. 

You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up. 

You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.

After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts. 

It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look. 

“Another rough night?”

The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.

“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.

The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”

“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”

“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”

Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.

“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”

The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.

“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”

Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”

“But, I’ve never–,”

“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”

Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.

“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”

Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”

“Hate you?”

You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.

“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”

The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”

Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.

“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”

The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose. 

.        .        .

You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time. 

You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen. 

“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”

You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival. 

“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family. 

He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm. 

“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”

Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”

You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”

It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it. 

“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”

You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing. 

“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”

Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”

As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion. 

Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself. 

He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time. 

It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared. 

.         .         .

The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes. 

“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”

You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging. 

“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”

“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”

Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”

“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”

Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds. 

“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”

It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you. 

The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun. 

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you. 

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”

You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office. 

Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit. 

Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you. 

“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”

Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”

“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”

You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care. 

“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”

You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business. 

It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home. 

“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”

Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead. 

“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”

Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed. 

“Can I show you something?”

The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.

“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind. 

Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination. 

“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you. 

The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves. 

“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat. 

“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation. 

Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”

The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun. 

“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”

It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?

Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own. 

A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call. 

“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”

“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”

You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”

.         .         .

Business meeting, my house at 4pm?

The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon. 

Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again. 

My parents just left for a business trip to Milan. 

A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates. 

The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame. 

Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat. 

He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted. 

“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”

“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”

Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”

So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.

“What about your staff?”

“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”

The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.

A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.

The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.

It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.

Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.

Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee. 

“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way. 

“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”

It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic. 

“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason. 

Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible. 

“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”

You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”

Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”

With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you. 

“I like you, too.”

The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to. 

“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”

Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”

The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin. 

When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do. 

“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”

The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off. 

“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”

You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips. 

But dreams never compare to the real thing. 

Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better. 

His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth. 

It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking. 

“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions. 

You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you. 

“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone. 

“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin. 

With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss. 

“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”

You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles. 

“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”

.         .         .

[8 years later]

BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.

.FIN.

[lvmoure]

But Daddy, I Love Him CS55

Summary: In the youngest child of King Charles II and late Princess Diana of Wales fell for an F1 driver, and is willing to do anything just to be with him.

Warnings: slight angst and rebellion.

You want nothing but to escape from the royal protocols that your family have set.

You are a lot of things: classy, smart, beautiful, elegant, and also, away from the eye of many, you are nothing but a rebel. Growing up in a dysfunctional family where your brothers seem perfect, life is nothing but complicated. It becomes even more complicated when your older brother, Harry, decides to live away from everyone with his wife, Meghan. You feel the weight of expectation in Buckingham Palace, where every action is scrutinized and every misstep could lead to scandal. You yearn for freedom, for a life beyond the gilded cage of royalty.

It’s a rainy Thursday afternoon, and the clouds outside your window reflect the turmoil inside. The dark sky looms over the palace like an ominous reminder of your frustrations. You sit on your bed, staring at the opulent walls adorned with portraits of ancestors, wondering if any of them ever felt trapped in their roles. Your heart pounds in your chest, a constant reminder of the fight brewing inside you.

“Why can’t you just act like a proper lady?” your father’s voice booms from the hallway, pulling you from your thoughts.

You can hear him pacing outside your door, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. “You’re a princess, for heaven’s sake! This isn’t a game!”

You stand up, your anger boiling over. You open the door, your resolve hardening as you face him. “This isn’t about being a princess, Dad! It’s about being myself!” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

He turns to you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disappointment. “Being yourself is exactly what got you into trouble last time. You can’t just run off to… to some racing event with that Sainz boy! It’s unbecoming.”

“Unbecoming?” you scoff, crossing your arms defiantly. “What’s unbecoming is pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m tired of this charade. I want to live my life!”

He steps closer, towering over you, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “And what kind of life do you think you can have? You’re throwing away everything—your title, your future—for a whim. For a boy!”

“Carlos is not just a boy! He’s passionate, driven, and he understands me in a way you never will!” Your heart races, but you refuse to back down.

“Passionate? Driven? Those are just words to romanticize what he is—a reckless race car driver! You think this is some fairytale?” His voice rises, echoing in the grand hallway, and the walls seem to close in on you.

“Maybe I don’t want a fairytale, Dad! Maybe I want to create my own story!” You take a step back, your breath quickening, realizing how far the argument has escalated. The tears threaten to spill, but you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “You are a princess! You have responsibilities, expectations! You can’t just abandon them!”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a princess anymore!” you shout, the words escaping before you can stop them. Silence hangs between you like a taut wire, both of you breathing heavily, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air.

He studies you for a moment, disappointment flashing in his eyes. “If you leave, don’t expect to come back. This family doesn’t tolerate such behavior.”

Your heart sinks, the threat echoing in your mind, but the fire of rebellion burns brighter. “Maybe I’ll take my chances.” You turn on your heel and storm down the hall, the echo of your footsteps reverberating through the palace like a drumbeat of defiance.

As you grab a small bag, you throw in a few essentials—clothes, your phone, and a picture of Carlos you keep tucked away. The thought of leaving fills you with both fear and exhilaration. You pause at the door, your heart racing as you glance back at the life you’re about to abandon.

With one last deep breath, you step out into the rain-soaked streets of London, the cold air invigorating. Each step takes you further from the constraints of your title and closer to the life you’ve always dreamed of—one filled with passion and freedom.

Days pass, and you find yourself standing on the sun-kissed shores of Mallorca. The salty breeze tousles your hair as you sit on the warm sand, staring out at the turquoise waves crashing against the shore. You left everything behind: the palace, your family, the expectations. You made the choice to find solace in the sun, but it feels like a band-aid over a deeper wound.

Carlos, with his warm brown eyes and infectious smile, had always been a light in the dark. It was his idea to meet here, a promise he made to show you the world beyond royal duties. As you watch the horizon, you remember the first time you met him at a charity event, his passion for racing sparking something inside you that you never knew existed.

Suddenly, you hear his voice, and you turn to see him approaching. “There you are! I thought I’d lost you to the sea,” he teases, his smile lighting up his face.

You smile back, feeling the weight of your past lift slightly in his presence. “Just contemplating life and my terrible decisions,” you say, trying to sound light-hearted.

“Hey, every decision leads us somewhere, right? At least we’re here now.” He gestures to the beach, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his optimism.

“Yeah, here. Away from everything,” you reply, your voice trailing off as you recall the argument with your father.

Carlos sits beside you, his presence comforting. “Is everything okay? You seem… distant.”

You sigh, looking out at the waves. “It’s just hard to let go of everything. My family… they expect so much from me.”

“You don’t owe them anything. You’re allowed to be who you want to be.” His words are gentle, yet they cut through the chaos in your mind. You turn to him, your heart racing.

“But what if who I want to be isn’t what they want? What if I’m just throwing everything away for nothing?”

“Nothing? You’re not throwing anything away. You’re chasing what makes you happy. And if that’s me, then I’ll do everything to make it worth it.” His sincerity makes your heart flutter, and you feel the connection between you deepen.

As the sun sets, casting a golden glow over the island, you realize how much you longed for this kind of connection. “What if this is just a summer fling? What if you go back to racing and forget all about me?” The fear creeps in, but you push it down, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Carlos takes your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. “Then I’ll race back to you. No matter what, I won’t forget you. You’re not just some fling to me.” His eyes hold a promise, and for the first time, you feel hopeful.

That week, you explore the island together—dancing under the stars, sharing stories, and laughing until your sides hurt. Each moment feels like a stolen treasure, a world away from the palace. But as the days pass, the looming thought of returning home creeps into your mind, a shadow over your newfound happiness.

The week has come to an end, and you find yourself at a quaint café overlooking the Mediterranean. The sun rises slowly, casting a warm light that contrasts with the storm brewing in your heart. Carlos sits across from you, sipping his coffee, a content smile gracing his lips. You want to capture this moment forever, to freeze time in this perfect bubble.

But the bubble is about to burst. Your phone buzzes, a message from your father breaking the serene atmosphere. You read it, and your stomach drops. “Come home. It’s time to face your responsibilities.”

You set the phone down, feeling the weight of the message like a boulder on your chest. “I can’t go back,” you whisper, panic rising.

Carlos looks concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my father. He’s demanding I come back to the palace. I can’t bear to face him after everything.”

“Don’t you want to talk to him? Maybe he’s just worried.” He reaches out, but you pull away, the thought of facing your family unbearable.

“Worried? Or controlling? He’ll never understand. I feel like I’m suffocating in that place.” Tears brim in your eyes as the emotions flood over you.

“Then let’s not go back,” Carlos says fiercely. “We can stay here. We can make a life together away from all that.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of reality. “I can’t run forever, Carlos. My father will always find me.” You realize with a sinking heart that this paradise can’t last forever.

The conversation grows heated, both of you struggling to find a solution. “You have to fight for what you want,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “Don’t give up on us.”

“It’s not that simple! My family… they have expectations. I can’t just turn my back on them.” The thought of your father’s disappointment stabs at your heart, but the idea of losing Carlos cuts deeper.

“Then you need to stand up for yourself. Tell him how you feel.”

You pause, considering his words. “What if he doesn’t care? What if he just wants to control me?”

Carlos reaches for your hand, holding it tightly. “You

won’t know until you try. You deserve to be happy, and I want to help you fight for that happiness.” His eyes are fierce with determination, and you feel a spark of hope igniting within you.

But the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your heart. “I don’t know if I can go back and face him,” you admit, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Then we’ll face it together. I’ll be right by your side.” His warmth envelops you, and for a moment, you believe him.

But then reality crashes in. You know what you must do. “I have to go back, Carlos,” you say softly, pulling your hand away. “I can’t abandon my family, no matter how hard it is.”

The decision hangs in the air, and you can see the hurt in Carlos’s eyes. “I understand. But it doesn’t mean it’s easy.” His voice trembles slightly, the pain evident.

“I wish things were different,” you murmur, your heart breaking as you stand up, ready to leave the paradise you’ve found.

As you walk away, every step feels heavier, and you can’t shake the feeling of loss that grips you. Carlos’s figure fades into the background as you board the plane back to London, leaving behind a piece of your heart in Mallorca.

Back in Buckingham Palace, the weight of reality crashes down like a heavy fog. You wear a smile for the cameras and the public, but inside, you feel like a ghost drifting through the hallways. The opulence feels suffocating, and every laugh shared with your family feels hollow. They celebrate your return, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside you.

Each day, the longing for Carlos grows, filling the empty spaces where happiness used to reside. You replay every moment from your week in Mallorca, from the gentle caress of the ocean breeze to the warmth of his hand in yours. The memories haunt you, and the loneliness settles in your heart like a cold stone.

One evening, you find yourself wandering the gardens, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the flowers. The beauty of the night contrasts sharply with your inner turmoil. You stop by the fountain, the sound of water soothing yet haunting.

Your father’s voice echoes in your mind, reminding you of the responsibilities you’ve shunned. You should be grateful for everything, yet all you feel is regret. “Why can’t you just be what we want you to be?” he had said, and the words sting like a whip.

You sink to the ground, tears spilling as you realize the truth—you cannot live a life dictated by others. You want to fight for your love, to reclaim the happiness you’ve tasted with Carlos.

“I can’t keep living this way,” you whisper to the night, your heart racing with determination. “I won’t lose him.”

The decision crystallizes in your mind: you will leave again, this time for good. You’ll fight for the life you want, for the love you’ve found. The fear that had held you back shatters, replaced by an unyielding resolve.

As dawn breaks, you pack a small bag once more, your heart pounding with the thrill of rebellion. You leave a note for your family, knowing they may never understand, but this time, you don’t care. You are doing this for yourself.

The flight to Mallorca feels like an eternity, your heart racing with anticipation. You step off the plane, the warm breeze washing over you, carrying the scent of the sea and memories of laughter. The familiar landscape unfolds before you, each corner reminding you of the moments you cherished with Carlos.

You find him at the same café, his laughter echoing through the air as he chats with a group of friends. When he sees you, his face lights up with a mixture of surprise and joy, and in that moment, everything else fades away.

“Is that really you?” he asks, disbelief evident in his voice. “I thought I lost you for good.” You run to him, throwing your arms around him, the warmth of his embrace grounding you. “I came back. I had to fight for us,” you breathe, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. Carlos pulls back, searching your eyes for the truth. “You mean it? You really want this?”

“Yes! I want you, Carlos. I want this life, the one I choose for myself. No more hiding, no more running.” You take a deep breath, the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, cupping your face in his hands. “I was worried you’d change your mind.”

“Never. I’ve spent too long trying to be someone I’m not. I want to embrace who I am, and that includes you.” You lean in, and he captures your lips with his, a kiss that seals the promise of a future together.

For the next few days, you immerse yourself in the vibrant life of Mallorca, exploring the island hand in hand. You learn more about racing, his passion igniting something within you. You share your dreams and fears, building a bond stronger than ever.

But then, the day comes when Carlos must leave for a race. As you stand on the balcony, watching him pack, a wave of sadness washes over you. “You’ll come back, right?” you ask, the uncertainty creeping in.

“Of course! I’ll always come back to you,” he promises, wrapping you in his arms. “Just remember, you’re the reason I push harder on the track. You give me strength.” As he leaves, you feel a mix of pride and longing. You have finally found your voice, your path, and love. But you know that this journey has only just begun.

Months pass, and you find yourself at peace with your choices. You’ve forged a life away from the palace, pursuing your passions alongside Carlos. The connection you share deepens, built on trust and understanding.

Finally, the day comes when you stand before your father again, ready to confront the past. You’ve made your decision; you want to forgive him and seek a relationship based on honesty.

“Dad, I want to talk,” you say, your voice steady as you approach him in the gardens. He looks up, surprise etched on his face. “You’re back from your… adventures.”

“I want to understand. I want us to move forward, but I need you to understand me too.” The words come rushing out, a torrent of emotions spilling over.

Your father’s expression softens, and for the first time, you see the regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just wanted to protect you.”

“I know. But I need you to let me be myself,” you reply, your heart open. “I want to find my own path, and I want you to support that.”

As the conversation unfolds, you both find common ground. There’s healing in vulnerability, and slowly, you rebuild the bridge between you.

A few months later, you stand in a sun-drenched chapel surrounded by friends and family, your heart pounding with excitement. Carlos stands at the altar, his eyes full of love and determination.

As you walk down the aisle, your father by your side, you feel a sense of peace. You’ve embraced your past, and you’re ready to step into the future. You take Carlos’s hand, and in that moment, you know you’ve chosen the right path.

The vows you exchange are a promise not just to each other but to yourself: to love fiercely, to fight for your happiness, and to always remain true to who you are.

As you seal your vows with a kiss, the future stretches before you—unpredictable, thrilling, and entirely yours.

[mj0702]

@helen-with-an-a wanted it... you all have to suffer

You hardly keep something from Lucy. There were a few times you didn't tell her things. The time you broke her favorite mug. Then when you started dating Georgia. Oh – and the time you got mint jelly all over her first Olympic Jersey. So you keeping something from her felt incredibly wrong to you. You didn't LIKE to keep things from her. But you also were a person that need to prove to yourself that you can achieve things without the name Bronze or without Lucy. That's why you kept all this from her. You were living in Barcelona now – Barcelona was your home. It was where your Family was. Lucy. Keira. Ona. Alexia. Mapí. All them spaniards (and Jenni the lanky half-Mexican from the bad area from Spain) you love more than life and that you would give your life without a second thought. So keeping one of the biggest thing in your life from your sister was hard. And it got significant harder once the others caught on that something was going on with you. You talked to Georgia a lot. You finished school in summer and you knew you just had to ask Alexia and you immediately would have a job at Barca but you wanted more. Yes, you were good at analytics and tactics but you wanted to help on a different level. So your girlfriend suggested you would start to train to be a physio but true to Bronze fashion you wanted more. You wanted what Lucy did – you wanted to study and you wanted to understand the human body and the movements and the muscles and the tendons and... everything.

So you looked up some courses at Unis in England when Georgia suggested you should probably look in Barcelona. Barcelona had excellent Universities and you did found something that would go in the direction you wanted so you wrote an application and to your big surprise you got accepted. You hoped that it wasn't because of the name Bronze but on the other hand you didn't really care when you opened the letter. You immediately called Georgia who was at training but called back ASAP once she saw the 31 missed calls from you thinking something has happened.

“Hola Cari” you heard Alexia entering the meeting room where you were hiding most of the trainings theses days working on your paper for “school”

“Hola” you squeaked and slapped your laptop shut panicked

“Are you okay Cariño?” the blonde raised an eyebrow at your weird acting

“Sí... mi bueno... mucho bueno” you nodded fast your hand still on your laptop

“We taught you better than that” Alexia huffed slapping the back of your head lightly “... what are you doing in here anyway?”

“Nothing” you answered quickly pushing the laptop a little away so Alexia couldn't snatch it away

“You weren't watching porn were you?” the blonde asked seriously still a little carefully

“WHAT??” you looked at her bewildered “NO!!”

“I mean I would understand....” Alexia said carefully “... you and Georgia... long distance”

“Oh ew...” you scrunched up your nose “.. please stop talking about... what I do or don't do with my girlfriend”

“Then what are you doing?” the blonde pushed again trying to grab your laptop

“Hello?? Privacy??!!!” you exclaimed jumping up from your chair pulling the electronic device to your chest as you took a few steps back to get some distance between you and the catalan

“Please..” Alexia snorted chuckling “... you should know there's hardly any privacy around this dysfunctional familia... how often did you walk in on Ona and Lucy now?”

“Yeah well.. I want my privacy now... so can you just leave?” you whined before you mumbled “... seven times”

“Cari....” the blonde said softly “... I don't know what you're doing but it's nothing dangerous right?”

“No... it's just something I need to do by myself” you said seriously

“If you need help you know you can come to any of us right?” Alexia said firmly

“I know...” you nodded “... I promise I'll tell you soon okay.. I just... need to figure it out myself first”

“Okay... I trust you that there won't be Police on the side one day trying to take you away” the blonde said “... if your sister asks... do Maps a favor and say you did indeed watch porn”

With that Alexia left you alone and you looked shocked at the door that just fell shut

“Hey Bubs..” your sister greeted you as you entered the locker room

“Hey” you grumbled back

“Woah... what's wrong Bits?” Keira now perked up from the opposite side giving you a once over if you sported any new bruises or wounds

“Nothing” you grumbled proceeding to stuff your laptop and some papers in your personal Barcelona Bag

“Bubs... talk to me” Lucy said softly when she came over to sit next to your cubby – yes you had your own cubby gifted by the Barca captains themselves

“What's there to talk... not an INCH of privacy in this godforsaken place...” you grumble subtly fixing the rim of your shirt

“What?” your sister said dumb folded not catching on

“Bitsy speak up... your sister doesn't get it... as usual” Keira said rolling her eyes already “knowing” what happened

“I have needs okay... my girlfriend is thousand miles away...” you looked at Lucy faking to be upset “... ALL of you should have been at training... ALL... yes ALL... except for Mrs. Alexia “I can do whatever I want because I'm La Reina” Putellas... SHE doesn't have to train... she's sooooo good... newsflash... your one touch is lacking”

“Woah whoa whoa whoa...” Lucy held her hands up in a calming matter “WHAT are you talking about?”

“I have NEEDS Luce...” you huffed

“What do you need? Can I help somehow??” your sister asked confused and you heaved

“She was watching porn Lucy... or a video from G getting herself off” Keira now interrupted dryly

“Oh my god!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked.. and disgusted.. but mostly shocked

“HA!!!” you heard Mapí exclaimed victoriously

“María” you heard a second voice smirking when Ingrid slapped her girlfriend and shot her a death glare

“NEVER say anything like this again” Lucy coughed after she gagged loudly “You are my little sister... you die a virgin because you don't HAVE a sex life”

“Oh but I...” you started nonchalantly

“Bitsy” Keira interrupted you in a warning tone “No”

“But...” you whined

“Do you really want me to come over and we discuss that in private?” Keira challenge you with a raised eyebrow

“No no... I'm good.... thank you” you said quickly when you got a glimpse of the clock

“SHIT... I'm late” you quickly threw the rest of your stuff in the bag and sprinted towards the exit just to get stopped by Alexia

“Late for what?” the blonde catalan blocked the door

“Not your business” you said getting slightly angry trying to push past her

“You really think you can push me over?” Alexia looked down at you crossing her arms in front of her chest

“I know your weak spot...” you said dangerously calm “... don't make me hurt you Alexia... let me go”

You and Alexia got into a little stare off before the blonde took a step to the side letting you hastily fly through the door

“You letting her leave? Alexia!” Lucy exclaimed confused

“Something tells me the Cari has some things to figure out” the catalan said softly

“Ehrm.. Amor?” Ona now speaks up being a little shady

“Sí?” Lucy looked at her girlfriend after she processed what Alexia said

“Please tell me you have the Car keys” Ona asked already knowing the answer

“No... I gave them to you...” your sister shook her head bewildered

“Yeah... about that...” her girlfriend scratched the back of the neck “... I think Bebita took them”

“WHAT???” Lucy yelled shocked starting to pull her clothes from her bag again looking for her car key

“No no no no no no” your sister whined after she reached the bottom of her bag “Noooooohooooo”

“She got you again Bronze?” Keira smirked evilly

“Shut it Walsh” Lucy grumbled as she fell down on the bench “... you can give us a lift?”

“Sure thing” Keira laughed “... but you better move your ass... you know I'll leave without you and just drive your girlfriend home.... and when we're at yours we pass the time by painting our nails and talk about your performance... the not on the pitch performance”

“You are an evil EVIL woman Walsh” your sister grumbled and stuffed her trainings stuff back into her bag

“Sorry for being late... got held up at... work” you panted entering the classroom now everyone looking at you

“I'll let it slide this time but only because you are one of the Best in this course” your Teacher Mrs. Hernandez looked at you strictly and then nodded her head towards your place and you quickly scrambled to sit down and pull out your papers and sat up your laptop “... and you can start with explaining your paper you better have finished since last lesson”

“Yeah.... about that... my... dog ate it” you scratched the back of your neck embarrassed

“Your... dog ate it??” the dark haired woman asked confused raising an eyebrow

Truth was... Narla didn't ate it. You worked on that paper and you finished it. In Munich. At your girlfriends apartment. On your second laptop. That was still in Munich.

“Yeah....” you tried to grin innocent resulting in a pained grimace

“How about we try the truth?” the woman asked fixing you with a glare

“Damn... you're just like Ale...” you mumbled but then cleared your throat “... I forgot it in Munich and my dearest is to... untechnical to get through me safety settings sooooo...”

“So you have time to go on holiday to Germany instead of studying?” Mrs. Hernandez asked

“No no no... I do study” you said quickly “... my girlfriend lives in Munich and no one except for her know that I'm doing this so whenever I know my familia is home I flee to Munich so I can have my peace and quiet and know one will see what I'm doing because... I don't want them to get involved before I passed this class”

“Now that's a reason I can get behind” the dark haired woman nodded understanding before she fixed you with a glare once again “... I want BOTH papers before next lesson starts on my desk in printed form”

“Sí... gracias” you nodded quickly already planning your next trip to Germany

“Aitana…” you said quietly

“Sí?” the small catalan asked confused

“I need your help….” you whispered looking around so no one would hear you “… I can offer you a deal”

“Aha” Aitana took a step back

“You teach me catalan…. I teach you English” you mumbled quickly

“I don’t need helping in English” the catalan looked confused

“You say things like “you work or no work”…. “ you deadpanned

“Yes… she was at every game” Aitana looked even more confused

“Firstly it’s rude and secondly it’s not English” you rolled your eyes “… sooooo… we have a deal?”

“Why you don’t need helping from Alexia?” the small player asked

“She’ll ask questions that I can’t answer right now….” you mumbled “… and you definitely need help with English”

“Okay…” Aitana shrugged her shoulders and that was the start of the most chaotic private lessons existing to this day.

“Bitsy... we need to talk” Keira said pulling you away after training a week later

“What? Why? I did nothing?” you said quickly a little scared

“Sit” the englishwoman gestured to one of the seats in the stands and you promptly sit down “So... what's going on?”

“Huh? Nothing?” you asked confused

“Bitsy... you never lied to me... okay once but that was technically okay since it was a surprise party” Keira said firmly “... so I'll humor you and ask again... what's going on?”

“Nothing I swear” you held your hands up in a defending manner

“For weeks now you're different... your mind is somewhere else... you hardly participate in pranks with them nutcases anymore... you fly an AWEFUL lot out to Munich... you spend hardly any time with Lucy, Ona, Alexia or me for the matter... so... what's going on.. you and G okay?” your “Mom” asked her voice showing a little concern

“Oh... OH...” you exclaimed “... yeah... all good”

“And???” Keira looked at you with that “go on”-look

“And nothing... all good” you smiled standing up for Keira to pull you right back down

“Y/n” she warned you and you know you are basically fucked

“I promise all is good... but..” you started with a little wince “... I can't talk about it... not right now... I promise everything is okay and I will tell you eventually just not... now”

“Okay...” the blonde said after she studied your face for a minute “... you know I trust you Bitsy and when you say you're okay I believe you... BUT.. if you got trouble I want you to come to me okay...”

“I promise Kei.. that's just something I have to do on my own... FOR me” you said seriously and Keira nodded slowly

“Okay... just promise me you didn't get pregnant or married... Lucy would get a stroke” Keira smiled slightly

“PREGNANT????” you screeched causing several heads to whip in your direction making Keira burst out laughing

“BUBS???!!!” Lucy yelled over shocked

“NO!!!! NO!!!!” you shook your head panicked as your sister started to come over to you and Keira

“You know she's gonna make you do a test right?” Keira wheezed out when she saw Lucys face

“I'm not pregnant” you squeak out your sister now coming up resting against the railing her eyebrows raised

“Then you won't have anything against taking a test right?” Lucy looked at you

“Told you” Keira bursted out laughing again

“You can take a test” you grumbled sinking lower in that uncomfortable plastic chair

“I'm pretty confident I'm not the one who just yelled Pregnant over the whole pitch...” your sister said in a matter of fact voice “... Alexia is already on her way to get one”

“I'm NOT taking a pregnancy test” you glared at Lucy

“So... you have something to hide then” Lucy poked your ego

“No... but I'm not supporting your stupidness” you shot back while Keira nearly fell of the chair clutching her torso laughing

“You are in a very.... difficult age Bubs....” your sister started slowly “... your hormones...”

“GOOOOOD” you groaned “... please stop.... Keira.... make her stop”

“Oh no... this is very entertaining” the blonde laughed at the uncomfortable look on Lucys and the disgusted look on your face

“You just take the test Bubs and we're good” Lucy said shrugging her shoulders not really wanting to have this conversation

“Luce... I'm NOT pregnant...” you said seriously “... G is good but not THAT good”

“Oh gooooood...” now your sister groaned while Keira interrupted into a new round of laughter

“Hey Alexia” you strolled up to the Barca capitan after a gym session several weeks later

“Yes Cari?” Alexia breath slightly labored as she wiped her face with a towel

“What are you doing next Thursday??” you asked slightly nervous

“Nothing I think... I have to check my planner but I don't think I have anything planned why?” the blonde catalan said after she thought about it for a second

“Could you and Olga maybe... be there...” you asked quietly pulling out a scrunched up piece of paper with an address and a time scribbled on it

“Ehrm... okay... can I ask why?” Alexia looked confused as she took the paper from you

“Just.... it's something important to me... so... please?” you shuffled nervously from left to right

“Okay... okay we'll be there” the blonde smiled softly feeling the nervous energy radiating from you “Thank you... casual chic... or just chic.... whatever you feel like” you mumbled quickly before you basically run from the gym

“Oh Cari.... what have you done now?” Alexia huffed lightly as she watches you leave and started to collect her things

“Luce??” you yelled as soon as you opened the door “Ona?”

“Living room” you heard your sister yelling back

“OKAY” you yelled back kicking your shoes down the hallway

“Why do you two always have to yell?” Ona groaned

“Love language” Lucy shrugged and grinned “…. When she yells I know she’s okay”

“Sooooo….” you said a little carefully

“Sooooo?” your sister asked sitting on the couch Onas head in her lap

“You free next Thursday?” you shuffled around nervously

“Think so…. Why?” Lucy looked at you expectantly

“Just��� be there at 7” you said quickly and threw another scrunched up piece of paper at them and quickly made your exit

“Bubs” your sister yelled after you while Ona unfolded the piece of paper that hit her on the forehead

“What is it?” Lucy looked down on her girlfriend

“It’s an address” the catalan said confused

“I swear if she caused trouble and that’s a court date…” your sister grumbled

“It’s the Universities address” Ona said as she looked up from her phone as she googled the address

“University?” Lucy asked bewildered

“Yes…” the blonde showed her girlfriend the screen

“What the… BUBS??!!!” your sister yelled

“She’s not home!!!!” you yelled back from your room

“Stop being a Twat and get your ass in here” Lucy groaned

“No….” you whined

“Y/n Tough Bronze” your sister hollered

“Lucy… let her be…” Ona said softly “… it obviously took a lot for her to ask us to be there – so don’t squeeze informations out of her”

“I just want to know what’s going on….” Lucy defended herself

“Lucia…” the catalan warned

“Yeah okay…” your sister huffed

“Hey Kei….” you said appearing out of nowhere next to the blonde English woman

“Jesus Christ” Keira exclaimed shocked clutching her chest “DON’T do that”

“What?” you looked confused

“Don’t appear out of thin air like this” the blonde exclaimed

“I literally walked down the sideline… not my fault you don’t pay attention to your surroundings” you shrugged

“I was talking to Vicky” Keira throws her arms in the air

“Not my fault she’s not paying attention to your surroundings” you waved off

“What do you want pest?” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Next Thursday… 7PM… be there” you fished another paper out of your pocket just as scrunched up as the ones you handed out before

“And why would I want to be there?” Keira ask confused

“Just… please?” you said shyly

“Okay” the blonde huffed knowing by your reaction that it was important to you

“Thanks Kei” you smiled

“Always Bitsy” Keira smiled back softly

“You ready Babe?” Georgia asked fixing the tie around her neck

“I can’t do this…” you said panicked pulling on your robe

“Stop” your girlfriend said firmly grabbing your shaking hands

“I can’t G… I just can’t… everyone will be there…” your breathing labored

“Breath….” Georgia said calmly

“You don’t understand” you started again just to get interrupted

“… you are nervous… I do understand that… but you worked so hard… you sacrificed so much…” your girlfriend talked lowly “… you showed that even off the pitch you come out on top… you are the best of the class… I am so proud of you and everyone else will be too”

“But what if they’re mad I kept this from them…” a new wave of anxiety hits you “… Lucy gonna be so mad”

“Baby…” Georgias voice strict “… no one is gonna be mad… not Keira… nor Ona… and definitely not Lucy… you worked your ass off and you deserve it more than anyone”

“I need to hold a SPEECH!!!! A SPEECH G!!!” you squeak

“I know…” your girlfriend smiled softly “… and you’ll absolutely smash it”

“IN CATALAN G!!!” you screeched

“And you learned to speak catalan from the best…” Georgia smiled

“I…. guess….” you calmed down slightly

“See… you are prepared… and pretty…. So so pretty” your girlfriend smiled pressing a soft kiss to your lips

“I don’t…” you started

“No… we will go there… you get your diploma and then we leave… we getting a pizza at the shop down the road and then we celebrate your bachelor degree” Georgia said keeping her voice soft

“Pizza sounds good” you mumbled

“See… we just quickly go and pick up that piece of paper and get pizza” your girlfriend shrugged smiling and gently pushed you towards the door

“Alexia …” Lucy said surprised “… what are you doing here? What is this? You know what this is?”

“Cariño invited Olga and me…” Alexia looked at her teammate “… and no… no idea”

“Kei… do you have…” your sister turned around having spotted her ex

“… no idea” Keira interrupted Lucy rolling her eyes

“Then what are we doing here?” Lucy asked bewildered

“You’re here to support a person that’s important to you and you are important to her…” Georgia said appearing next to Keira “… she’s fucking nervous as it is so all of you pull it together and support her”

“Where did you come from?” your sister looked at Georgia pure confusion on her face

“From the champagne stand over there” your girlfriend pointed to a little bar with her glass “… it’s free and I thought… Eeh.. why not”

“Spill Stanway” Lucy growled getting upset

“Not in a million years…” Georgia snorted “… you’ll have to wait and see… I don’t know what your plans are but I’m going to me place now”

“I can’t believe she ignored me…” your sister started as Keira started to snort

“… you growling at her like a toothless puppy?” Keira asked “She knows you’re all bark no bite by now Luce”

“I am intimidating!!” Lucy exclaimed

“Yes Amor… so intimidating” Ona smirked and started to follow Georgia

“I AM!!” your sister shouted after the group

“I am” Lucy mumbled to herself now trotting after the others finding her place

“I can’t believe…” Lucy said shocked looking up to the stage where you were currently holding your speech in catalan

“…. She pulled that off?” Georgia helped out

“That she really …. she got a bachelors degree now…” your sister said in disbelieve

“She worked her ass off for it…” your girlfriend hummed “… the amount of times I found her at the kitchen table in the morning fast asleep on her papers… she really worked for it Luce”

“I… we… we all would’ve helped…” Lucy whispered given up already trying to understand what you were saying due to it being catalan “… why didn’t she say anything?”

“She was scared she could fail and that you’d be disappointed in her…” Georgia said remembering how often she herself tried to get you to talk to Lucy “… she said if she did fail no one but me would be disappointed”

“What a truck load of bullshit” Lucy grumbled

“I know… it still doesn’t change the fact that she wants to meet your goals Lucy… you are so fucking important to her…” your girlfriend said lowly “… the thought she could fuck up nearly broke her”

“Can you two shut up… I’m listening to the Cariño speech” Alexia sneered from two seats down

“I don’t understand anything anyway “ Lucy shot back

“Maybe if you’d listen you would’ve noticed her saying that she couldn’t have done it without the upbringing you provided her with because you taught her to fight no matter the outcome and that everything she achieved was because of you being her role model” Alexia said her voice low

“She did?” your sister asked perplex

“Yes….” Ona said tears in her eyes “… yes she did”

“But I…” Lucy looked around for help

“You showed her the world Lucy… from the moment I met you two it was clear that you were HER world… you just never realized how much…” Keira said softly “… none of us could ever reach the podium she holds you on… you two always were more than just sisters… you two always had something special”

“I…” your sister was at loss for words as you ended your speech and received your diploma smiling widely

“You are her everything Luce…” Georgia smiled clapping her friends back “… just like she is yours”

“Sooooo…” you slandered up to your girlfriend “… about that pizza….”

“Yeah I think we can kiss that idea goodbye…” your girlfriend smirked nodding behind you

“So proud of you” you recognized the voice of your sister as she pulled you into a bone crushing hug “so fucking proud”

“Lucy…” you groaned your voice strangled “… need air”

“Lucy” Keira warned “… no killing tonight”

“I’m just proud!! Can’t I be a proud sister for once?” Lucy asked flabbergasted still holding onto you tightly

“Air” you squeak out hitting your sister wherever you could reach her

“Amor…” Ona said softly prying Lucys arms away from around you “… others want to be proud too”

“I have first proud right!!!” your sister said

“Yes you do and you already showed her how proud you are” the small catalan said softly while you where holding onto your girlfriend coughing hard

“But not enough” Lucy said confused

“Plenty enough” you wheezed out as Georgia patted your back softly

“We need to celebrate” your sister suddenly exclaimed

“I already…” you started but get fixed by a glare from Keira, Alexia and Ona “… haven’t planned anything” you said quickly

“Mhm…. Thought so Bits…” Keira said eyebrow raised “… you know the tradition”

“Keiraaaaaa… come ooooon” you whined immediately knowing what she implemented

“Oh no… it’s tradition” the blonde smirked

“What?” Alexia asked confused

“Every time Bitsy came home with good grades at the end of a school year we would celebrate it and she was given the honor to pin it on the fridge” Keira smiled

“I’m not in middle school anymore” you continue to whine

“Oh I don’t care… university is school… you have good grades… tradition it is” the blonde English woman shrugged her shoulders and you knew you lost the battle – and the war.

“Ugh… so unfair” you huffed

“I’ll let you have a second cheat day this week Cari… this achievement is reason enough to eat whatever you want” Alexia pulled you into a side hug

“So generous” you grumbled “… you do realize I can eat whatever I want whenever I want”

“Oh I know Cariño…” the catalan smiled and you saw you were close to the magical line that would make her snap “… I also know you wouldn’t dare to do that because you knew I would let you run laps until your lung comes out”

“A second cheat day sounds amazing” you squeaked

“Thought so” Alexia smirked pinching your cheek

“Come on Bebita…. Let’s go home” Ona smiled grabbing your hand softly

“But G comes too…” you said as you let Ona pull you along

“Of course…” the catalan smiled and that’s how your bachelor’s degree ended up pinned to Lucys and Onas fridge making Lucy smile proudly every time she saw it.

Y/n Tough Bronze – Bachelor in Physical Activity and Sport Sciences

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic..Yan! Bruce Wayne w/ new robin darling

warnings: Dysfunctional family dynamics, manipulation, emotional abuse, narcissism, delusion, kidnapping ect. I used experiences from my own family dynamics. My own father pinned me against my other siblings and did similar things so i guess this is personal lolll. Maybe others can relate too? Not romanticizing!!! but i do think yan! father Bruce would be mental like this.

Anyone going through parents like this, just know you're not alone. You can escape eventually. I did, so will you.

Masterlist

Requests? Always open

Yandere Bruce Wayne is a self righteous prick with an intense savior complex. So much entitlement for just one man Bruce, being dissatisfied with his current children's rebellion, needed someone new to traumatize. That someone is you. He noticed you instantly. A shy kid he encountered at one of his charity events. How "naive" and "dumb" his new batchild was. You're weak...and lonely...you're a helpless soul in need of saving. You're a perfect subject to wipe clean and reshape into his new robin.

According to him at least.

Your siblings can see just how distorted and plain wrong his 'love' for you is. He had the same kind for them too. They are all way too familiar with his process.

First he bombards you with praise. You're such a smart and amazing kid! So strong too. He's never seen anything like it.

Then isolation..Maybe you'd like to live with him and his other children for a little bit? It's a perfect, fun life here and he can dump so much money into your future in exchange for a few months of training. Its all temporary, you'll be back to mommy and daddy in no time.

Yeah lies.

He keeps you longer than the agreed time while giving your parents bullshit answers as to why they can't contact you. He tells them it could breach security if they call you but they keep on pushing back. He tries to pay them off and threatens them which ends up in them going to court to fight for you. The whole time he was making a case of child neglect and completely screwed them over. They lose custody and you're his to keep. He keeps this on the down low and ensures this won't hit the airwaves. Naturally, you ask him about going home. You never did get those weekends with your parents that he promised...and wasn't this only supposed to be up to six months?? It's almost been a year now. Why haven't you received a call? A text?...nothing? This is starting to make you get a knot in your stomach. *deep sigh*

Sorrows. Prayers.

Next is the re-programing/gaslighting. Your family was perfectly fine. More than loving and providing for you, you had a happy nuclear family..maybe a little unconventional in some ways but it was fine. You missed them dearly, you didn't understand why they suddenly are absent? Why did they just leave you here? Why couldn't you leave this place? Bruce is so twisted and his power he holds enables this false reality that he lives in. He projects his childhood and fragments of the other kids lives onto you. He'd drill it into you for hours that they never loved you, they begged him for money in exchange for you. They didn't care for the responsibility of you and were overjoyed by this way out. Though truthfully this was for the best anyways...they were dysfunctional and dangerous. They were setting you up for failure and your new dad just had to step in.... Can't you see? The memories you had of them were all false. You was living in a dream. Sorry to tell you, but it's probably best to not think too hard on it and embrace this new life of yours...it's meant for you. Are you being a brat and not accepting what he's telling you? How dare you declare him a liar. He's not the one who abandoned you. He saved you and he'd be a horrible parent if he let you go back to those criminals! Be grateful for what he's given you.

Manipulation, fear tactics and torture are all used to keep you in check when you ask about your family or try to escape because you know something is wrong. He runs you into mental circles until you're confused and disoriented

This is your new family now. He is your new dad now. You don't need them. You're his daughter and only his. Get in line, Robin.

Yandere Bruce whose next step in the plan is to play favorites with you over the other batkids in order to gain your trust. It's to give you an untruthful version of what life is actually like here when you're his robin. He purposefully spends more time with you, allowing you to fully get your way and defends you in bickers between the other kids. Sometimes he'll even pin you against each other if that works. You don't know better though. You think your siblings are bitter because you're better than they ever were at your age. But never being enough for Bruce eventually gets to you.

You're his shiny, new golden child in the making. He will perfect you. Your mind will be cleansed of all that filth in the world you've seen. Forget all you know for what he will teach you. What he's failed to perfect with the others, he'll accomplish with you.

Uh oh...you're starting to displease Batman. Don't worry...this is the second to last step. He steadily shows disapproval and acts like there's something wrong with you. Maybe he was wrong about you? Maybe you aren't meant to be great like the others because you are barely average right now. Just look at how scarred you are after one night on patrol...worse than Jason on his first night. You'll become dependent on his approval like the rest but you cannot seem to escape the look of disappointment from his face. The scoldings only seems to worsen.

He then comes around, but patronizing this time...coddling you with every step. The way you perform is showing him you aren't able to do anything for yourself. You're weak again. You're nothing but you're lucky to still be in his care because there's still a chance. He can fix you but it's going to take a lot of work. Can his new robin endure it or should he kick you out and leave you to the wolves? He knows the answer you'll choose as you're desperate for his fatherly love. He'll break you then rebuild you and break you some more until you're exactly who he wants you to be.

Coming after the greats means you're expected to excel past them....quickly. Don't embarrass him or he'll get another.

[gamergirl-niffler]

What if... there is more to Dabi?

Sometimes I sit and think about stuff because of that I often have weird ideas, theories, headcanons, etc.

For the last few days, I was thinking about Touya and Dabi. How he was super fixated on revenge, EVEN if there were less aggressive ways to solve all of this...

And came to the conclusion:

"What if Touya suffers from DID and Dabi isn't just a way to hide his true identity, but a personality that developed to protect him and seek justice for his harm?"

It's probably super wrong approach but hear me out!

(From what I read on Wikipedia)

Early childhood trauma, places someone at risk of developing DID.

Traumas like: childhood abuse, violence, neglect, or severe bullying, dysfunctional family dynamics were reported in people suffering from DID

We all know "hellish" Todoroki family and the way stuff went there.

Touya was a child "created" for greatness by Enji.

From the very being, Enji put into Touya's head that "HE will be the one to suppress All Might himself" and since he was just a child he believed in this.

He believed his father, he wanted to learn, he wanted to achieve this goal, make his father proud, proof he is worth his love and attention because his other siblings were no threat.

Then Shoto was born, and BAM, everything burst like a bubble.

THAT'S WHEN DABI'S DEVELOPMENT COULD START.

Once loved boy with SO many expectations put into him was thrown aside like a rag doll for the sake of little brother.

Neglectful and selfish actions of his own father, mixed with Touya's obsession on being THE CHILD his father once said he was, led him to that cursed mountain and when Enji didn't show up...

That's when Dabi came out.

When we see him wake up after 3 years - it's not Touya, but Dabi.

Dabi - The personality developed to protect Touya, to prove that Touya can be the very thing Enji told he will be, a personality made to PAY BACK for all the harm that child had to go through because of bastard father.

He is like an older brother stepping in front of the younger sibling to take all the harm on himself.

It's not TOUYA doing all those bad things while chasing Enji and going against Shoto - It just Dabi.

Dabi who wants desperately show what Touya is capable of while Touya is just tucked away from all the harm, just waiting to be again acknowledged but not out of pity or because his father feels bad for his own actions but because of what he can be.

Of course, Dabi is so fixated on achieving this goal that he takes EXTREME measures - but it's all for Touya's happiness that he deserved ever since he was born.

This may make no sens, but this was a train of thoughts that went through my head very recently. The post is probably messy because I am not the best at making such things and putting them 'on paper"

Feel free to comment and tell me what you think about this, BUT please don't be mine or anything. I didn't mean to insult anyone with my limited knowledge.

I am curious of your thoughts

[prythianpages]

The Family Reunion | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch Reader | summary: Azriel accidentally welcomes your dysfunctional family into your home.

warning: I can't really think of any at the moment besides violence from a witch fight, basically you being protective over Az

a/n: There's not very much known about the witches in the ACOTAR universe so I'm just taking creative control here (: This can be read as a stand alone fic.

As Azriel sits in your living room, the familiar weight of concern settles in his chest. The past few days have felt like a quiet storm and the bond between you, has fallen eerily silent far too many times to go unnoticed. 

Of course, he’s already asked if you were alright but he sensed the lie as it brewed in your eyes before it slipped out of your lips. The shadows that remain at your side keep him updated on your whereabouts but besides a crow following you one day, there’s nothing else to report. He wonders if you’re upset with him.

Azriel tries to engross himself into the book–as it’s one you recommended to him– in his hand but his eyes keep drifting from the pages. He steals glances toward the closed door of your study. A vibrant green glow, your magic, spills from the edges of the door. He tries to pull on the bond but cannot find you on the other end. You shut him out. Again. 

Three knocks pull him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the skittering dance of his shadows and the way Pearl–your pet spider–retreats back to her corner, he opens the door. There’s no one on the other side. A perplexed furrow forms on his brow as he peeks into the hallway, dispatching his shadows to investigate further. They return with no insights, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake. 

“Hey Az?”

Azriel closes the door and locks it. He turns to see you stepping out from your study. You smile at him sheepishly, toying with your glowing hands. “Can I have some of your blood?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, despite the look in your eyes, and you must mistake his silence as apprehension because you’re adding: “Just a drop!”

He would’ve gladly granted your request but before he can even utter a word, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Your eyes widen, a touch of panic flickering within them. It’s a fleeting moment where control slips from your grasp, and in that heartbeat, your side of the bond bursts open.

His wings quiver as if struck by an invisible force. A torrent of emotions crashes over him like unrelenting waves on a storm sea, flooding and overwhelming his senses. Worry etches lines on his face at the raw intensity of your feelings. 

“Toad’s blood!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing in front of you, his hands cradling your face. The hazel depths of his eyes burn with concern but you avoid his gaze, your frantic eyes darting around the room as if looking for something–someone.

“y/n, my love,” Azriel implores softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he desperately tries to navigate through the sea of your emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes land on the door and a palpable tension fills the air. “You opened the door.”

Azriel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Someone knocked.”

You swallow thickly. “How many?”

“What?”

Your voice is firmer this time. “How many knocks?”

“Three.”

You’re pulling out of his grasp abruptly. You run back to your study and a trail of perplexed worry etches further across Azriel’s face as he follows after you. With a furrowed brow, he observes your hurried actions. Windows are slammed and shut and locked in quick succession. He blinks and you’re running to your room next. “y/n, please talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong!”

You pause, if only for a brief moment, your eyes finally meeting his. “You just opened the door to a gateway of evil.”

“Evil??” Azriel’s wings flinch, the word carrying an unexpected weight. “What evil?”

“My mother.”

A sense of impending danger guides your every move and you’re sprinting past him. Over your shoulder, you urgently command, “Quick! Lock all the windows!”

Azriel responds without hesitation. He races back to your living room, determined to secure the window he opened earlier. As he does so, he sees a crow flying toward him. It’s familiar to both him and his shadows. The dark tendrils hasten to close the window beside him and the crow, unable to halt its trajectory, collides with the glass.

“I think that's all of it,” you say with a sigh of relief. However, it’s short lived as an overlooked detail dawns on you. The window in your kitchen.

Azriel, his shadows and you are already racing toward the kitchen but despite your efforts, you’re too slow to close it. Your sock clad feet glide across the floor and Azriel wraps an arm around your waist from behind, preventing you from falling. It tightens around you, drawing you snugly against him in a protective embrace, just as the crow flutters its wings menacingly and tauntingly above you. His eyes narrow at the bird and his shadows poise like a snake ready to strike. 

Shrouded in a swirling cloud of purple smoke, the crow undergoes a mystical transformation. Its plumage shifts and twists, feathers unraveling and converging as if guided by an unseen hand. A silhouette begins to take form amid the enchanting mist and as the last tendrils of purple dissipate, a beautiful older female stands before you.

“That is not the way to welcome your mother, Dearest.”

**

The last time you saw your mother was when Hybern became allies with Spring. She had asked you to join her coven, out of worry for you if you stayed in the court that was crumbling apart, but Feyre had already secured plans to bring you to Velaris. The City of Starlight was a safe haven for you…until the Hybern attack unveiled its secret. She’s been reaching out ever since–sending countless letters and when those did not work, she started sending ravens.

Though she delves in dark magic, you know your mother means well. She loves you and has been protective of you. Overly protective. Perhaps, you were being dramatic about it all but you weren’t ready for her to meet Azriel yet. You didn’t even get to finish the protective spell you were planning on casting upon him. All you needed was a drop of his blood to complete it…

“Mother,” you reluctantly greet.

She smirks at you. Every muscle of your body tenses and you place your hand over Azriel’s to let him know it's okay. Ever the perceptive one, your mother catches the subtle gesture. Her gaze falls upon the protective presence behind you. She narrows her eyes and points a perfectly manicured finger at him as if to say “I’ll deal with you later.”

With a wave of her other hand, a cage materializes out of thin air. You can barely make out the tiny green creature in it before your mother is thrusting it into your hands.

“Hold your father, will you? I need to go fetch your sisters.”

She says it so casually, it’s comical almost. You grimace as your gaze flickers to the small lizard. It nervously scurries within the small cage it is confined in and you’re tempted to drop it. 

Your father, a former high noble fae from Spring, had been cursed into a feeble gecko at the powerful hands of your mother. She did it shortly after she caught him trying to take your life at the mere age of two. He had plans to kill your mother next and take her heart for his own so now your mother loves to torment him by carrying him with her so that each remaining day of his life is as miserable as can be.

Verena, your mother, walks over to your door as if she owns the place. With an air of confident authority, she swings it open, revealing two females on the other side—your sisters, each birthed from a different father. One, with dark, flowing hair and sinister eyes, wears a smirk that mirrors Verena’s. Maeve. The other, with lighter hair, possesses kinder eyes, and delicate white feathery wings. Thea. She looks at you apologetically. 

You’re slipping out of Azriel’s grasps and joining your family in your living room. The cage falls from your grasp, rolling onto the ground. Binx dives out from the shadows, eyes alight as the cat spots the green creature within. A curious paw swats at it, its claws peeking through the thin gaps at the top of the cage but no one bats an eyelash at the terrified squeak.

A scowl settles onto your face. “Mother, Maeve, Thea. As quickly as you arrived, I want you all to leave,” you say, clapping your hands at them for emphasis. “I did not invite you here.”

“No,” your mother agrees with a nod but her eyes are fixed on something–rather someone behind you. “He did.”

**

Four pairs of eyes are on him and Azriel only cares about one. Yours. His knowledge over your family is limited. He knew your father was a piece of scum but he did not know he still lived. There’s a tightening in his chest and he knows it's coming from your side of the bond. He sends a wave of reassurance through it because if you’re okay, he’s okay. Even if your family is a little overwhelming.

Verena circles around him, her gaze sharp as the crow she morphs into. Azriel stands still, his shadows swirling defensively. When Verena extends toward the talon of his wings, the shadows snap at her, causing her to withdraw. A wicked grin appears on her face.  “A Shadowsinger,” she observes. “What is your name?”

“Azriel.”

Verena hums, stepping back, her eyes scanning every inch of him. There’s a devilish gleam in them when they settle upon his large, membranous wings. He instinctively tucks them back.

“By The Mother, you look absolutely ravishing,” purrs your dark-haired sister.

The lighter haired sister beside her smiles. “He is quite beautiful.”

“Maeve,” the darker haired sister introduces herself. Her dark brown eyes sparkle in amusement. She holds her hand out to him. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure. y/n has been hiding you for far too long.”

Azriel does not take her hand. Instead, he watches her with wary eyes and she laughs. As her eyes deepen in hue, mirroring the unsettling darkness akin to yours, an ominous glow envelops her hands. It resembles a delicate yet foreboding cloud of gray smoke that dances around her fingers. 

**

“Don’t touch him,” you growl, raising your own hand. A raging green fire roars from your fingertips as the darkness takes your eyes.

Maeve turns to hiss at you. Her cloud of smoke is steadfast as it continues its path to Azriel. Your mate. You hiss back but your mother rests a hand on your shoulders and out of the corner of your eye, you swear Thea sends a reassuring gesture your way.

“Oh, come on.” Maeve persists, her voice, both enchanting and seductive, beckons like a magnetic force. She steps closer to him, ignoring the heated glare you send her way.  She places a hand on his arm and you're shaking with rage as you recognize the haze that clouds Azriel's eyes. 

“You look hungry. Would you like a taste? What do you think, Shadowsinger?”

Smoke wraps around him, infiltrating his senses and charging the air around him with an alluring energy.  It smells like chamomile and lavender–a scent intricately tied to you, the enchanting witch he calls his own. You’re shoving away from your mother and prancing on your sister, the two of you tumbling to the ground. “Let him go!”

The room becomes a radiant spectacle, bathed in the ethereal clash of gray and green magic. The air is charged with the tension of their coexistence and you’re pinning your sister to the floor beneath you. “Why do you always have the thirst to take everything I have?”

“Because it’s fun,” Maeve hisses at you, her dark eyes a reflection of yours. “Besides, our family is in need of a new pet, don’t you think?”

“Girls, stop it this instant!”

“Can it be something cute this time? Like a puppy!”

“Thea, shut up!” You say brusquely as you look up.

Thea winces at your tone. Maeve takes the sliver of your distraction to push you off of her. The two of you hastily get to your feet and you hold your hands out ready to unleash the vibrant, verdant rage coursing through your veins at her. 

“I think y/n is ravishing this evening. Don’t you?”

Azriel’s voice is light, dreamy almost as he’s in a trance. He blinks and the tendrils of magic briefly cloud his vision before it clears. He steps away from Maeve’s cloud of smoke, repulsed by her magic and his eyes are searching for you.

His gaze, steady and filled with a profound warmth, captures yours and it feels like a gentle cascade of water extinguishing a flame. The vibrant green fire in your hands gracefully fades away, mirroring the softening of your eyes in the tender exchange. 

“And he’s not even lying,” Maeve frowns with a huff, her voice and eyes returning to normal. Disappointment is written all over her face. No one has been able to escape from her power of seduction before. “How dull.”

Your hand finds solace in Azriel’s and he locks his fingers with yours. You smile at him and he smiles back. You are the only enchantment he desires and your heart swells. You're so happy you could kiss him--

Thea, always one step ahead of everyone, gasps. “He’s your mate.”

Your mother’s eyes undergo a shadowed transformation of her own, reminiscent of a crow’s ominous gaze. Azriel feels a subtle unease but you remain composed. Gracefully, she approaches, her movements mirroring the fluid elegance of a bird. With a discerning sniff, she assesses the air around you both. Her keen eyes flicker to Azriel’s chest–where the emerald, the greatest token of your affection, securely rests beneath his leathers. His siphons awaken in response, pulsing with a powerful and protective luminescence.

“Your heart. Your precious, precious heart,” she whispers, her voice on the brink of tears.

There’s a drastic shift in her voice when she speaks again. It darkens with a mother’s fierce intensity and echoes through the room like a hissing serpent. “You’ve given it to him.”

Your mother outstretches her hand, toward Azriel, her gesture laden with an unmistakable agony. With a resolute urgency, you press your hand against Azriel’s chest, your other hand still wrapped around his. You can feel the pulse of his heart beneath the gem. It’s fast and erratic but gradually soothes under your touch. 

Given your family's history, you can't blame your mother for reacting this way. Maeve's father was a charming merchant, who enjoyed traveling through the sea, and was very aware of his heartthrob status. Your mother was not immune to his allure and though she did not love him, she was possessive over him. So when she caught him touching another female, she cut his hand off, forcing him to always think of her for the rest of his life. She keeps the hand she severed preserved in a jar at her house. 

On the other hand, Thea's father was a peregryn warrior who loved studying the stars in his free time. He was probably the best male out of all three...if he hadn't picked his loyalty for his court over your mother. Surprisingly, your mother left him alone and unharmed but she made a good example of him to you all because even the kindest of men were not to be trusted.

But Azriel is different. 

His sweetness, care and love create a warmth that gently embraces your heart. You’ve spent a lifetime shielding your heart as your mother taught you but with Azriel, it feels different. He is your mate. Your other half, crafted by The Mother and Cauldron itself. In his presence, you find a haven where vulnerability is not a weakness but a welcomed connection. 

“I love him.”

Wheeling with a snarl, she fixes her sharp gaze back onto you. Her hand tenses midair and her talons peak out before dropping it back to her side. She leans so close you can feel her breath tickle yours.  Her gaze travels down to the obsidian necklace you keep on at all times for protection and she feels her throat tighten when she sees the new charm attached to it. It’s an initial. A for Azriel.

“You stupid, foolish girl. What have you done? Have I taught you nothing?”

Azriel growls and his shadows tense as they await their master’s next order. Your hand tightens against him and you send a wave of reassurance through the bond. This was exactly what you had been hoping to avoid. The last male you introduced to your mother was turned into a frog and you hadn’t put up a fight as the male had fallen under Maeve’s spell. But this time, you were willing to fight and defend what was yours. 

“I think it's quite brave,” a dreamy voice cuts in through the tension. “A true testament to love.”

“Shut up, Thea.” Maeve snaps. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for a reading!”

“Azriel.” Your mother’s voice is sharp, demanding attention. “You hold something extremely dear to me now. If I find you to be careless with it–if you so much as hurt y/n in any shape or form…I will hunt you down, rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast.”

“She’s not joking,” Maeve decides to chime in. “She ate Thea’s lover for dinner once.”

“Must you always jump at the opportunity to remind me?” Thea retorts with a look of pained disgust on her face and you almost feel bad for her. She did love that male terribly, as undeserving as he was.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, my dearest,” your mother says in a perplexed tone. She rolls her eyes at the scoff she received in response. “He was a human.”

“He was the love of my life!”

“And others too.” Maeve cuts in, lips curled into a lopsided smirk as she gazes at her nails. “Mother did you a favor there.”

“This,” you say to Azriel, lifting your chin toward your family. Your mother and sisters continue to bicker back and forth while Binx zooms after the rolling cage imprisoning your father. You sigh deeply and Azriel now understands why you were on edge all week, why you had shut him out.

 “This is my family.”

As if on cue, your family turns to him. Binx rests a paw on the rolling cage, halting its movement. Even the green gecko inside seems to peer curiously at the Shadowsinger, its tiny eyes glinting in the dim light.

 Your mother, a formidable figure with an air of ancient wisdom, focuses her attention to Azriel. The expression on her face is a complex blend of skepticism and concern. Her dark eyes narrow as if probing his very soul–a look that has sent many to mad chaos and the room seems to hold its breath as Azriel meets her gaze. 

You step in between them both. “Mother, must you always do this?”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to hide,” Azriel reassures you as he holds your mother’s gaze, unwavering and resolute. “I would never dream of hurting y/n. I love her.”

“He speaks the truth, mother. He’d kill for her, I’ve seen–ow!”

Your mother’s keen eyes linger on him. Despite Thea’s words, she wants to see for herself. The room feels suspended in time as she carries on with probing into his very soul. She’s peering into the depths of his heart, seeping into its cracks and searching for any hint of insincerity. The tension in the room starts to dissipate as she must sense something she agrees with. Slowly, her lips gradually curve in a smile–a genuine one. 

“I like this one,” your mother says as she turns to you. “I shall spare you the part of my visit where I ask you to come back home with me as I now know it will be pointless. So let’s have dinner, hmm? All this excitement has me famished.”

Your mother clasps her hands together, springing the room into action. Binx resumes messing around with your father and Maeve makes her way to your kitchen, your mother following after her.

“I did not agree to you staying for dinner!” You call after them, shooting Azriel an apologetic look.

“She was going to agree anyway.” 

Azriel turns to your sister–the closest to a normal relative you seem to have. Her blue eyes, flecked with silver hold a spark of otherworldly wisdom as she regards him. 

“You can see the future?”

She tilts her head, a cascade of blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Her lips curl into a knowing smile and her peregryn wings flutter. “Only what the stars tell me,” she replies cryptically. “Would you like me to read your cards?”

Azriel contemplates for a moment. He turns toward the kitchen and his eyes find you. You’re engaged in a lively debate about the perfect amount of herbs, claiming that only a pinch of thyme is needed while Maeve stubbornly shakes her head.

“Out of my kitchen! Go seduce a pig for all I care before I hex you with an angry nest of bees!” 

His love for you deepens with every passing second and he nearly startles when he feels a flutter in his chest. It’s you. You echo the sentiment very loud and clear through your end of the bond.

“No.”

“Why not?” She teases, though she already knows the answer.

“Because right now, I have everything I could ever want.”

**

Once your family departs, relief washes over you, and you finally feel able to breathe freely. Leaning against the door, you release a sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. When you reopen them, your gaze lands on Azriel in the living room. He's seated, head tilted back, eyes closed, weariness evident. Moving towards him, you saunter over, and without a word, he instinctively pulls you onto his lap, his eyes still shut in a shared moment of exhaustion and solace.

Your hands tenderly cradle his face, bathed in the soft glow of your green magic. You massage his temples, your fingertips tracing away the remnants of the headache your mother’s earlier probing had left behind. A contented sigh escapes him at your soothing touch. 

“Thank you,” he breathes and his hands find their place at your hips.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He opens his eyes and there’s a subtle perplexity among them. “How come?”

“Because they’re chaotic,” you answer and tipping your chin down sheepishly, you continue, “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was doing my best to keep them from coming but I should’ve just told you instead. I was trying to protect you from all of this–”

A scarred finger props your chin up, urging you to look back up at him. The hand that remains at your hip tightens with a comforting reassurance. You find yourself lost in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes and like always, they anchor you like a tranquil forest bathed in sunlight.

“You don’t have to protect me from this. I accept it–all of you. I love you,” he murmurs. The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. “Though I do find you unbearingly adorable when you’re protective.”

“Adorable?” You can’t help but laugh. Others would beg to differ. You're sure your eyes have given Cassian nightmares.

“Especially when it’s all for me,” he nearly purrs, pressing kisses to the corner of your eyes. The very eyes he adores, even when they transform into inky pools of black.

He kisses the nape of your neck and your breath hitches. “Did you mean it?”

Azriel hums against your neck. “Mean what?”

“What you said to Thea earlier,” you say, mindlessly confessing that you had been listening to his short conversation with your sister. 

You feel him smile against you. “Of course I did. Whatever the future may bring, as long as I have you, that's enough for me. You’re my everything.”

When he pulls away to look at you, you’re beaming at him. His nose brushes against yours and your hands cup his face again, eyes flickering to his lips before you guide them to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You slide your tongue along the softness of his bottom lip, reveling in his honeyed taste and he parts his mouth for you, a small sound of pleasure slipping between your lips.

You kiss him and kiss him until the future seems like a distant thought, overshadowed by the perfection of the present.

a/n: I was driving to an appointment when I randomly thought of how chaotic reader's family is and wanted to introduce them formally in case I want to incorporate them in future imagines. This takes place shortly before the one where you get kidnapped.

Also, I'm currently watching the Witcher and I couldn't help myself and use this scene to help me write the part where Maeve tries to seduce Az.

tagging: @fxckmiup

[series masterlist]

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part 11)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

The following few days passed like a blur. Cillian was in London, working and attending some meetings for another movie while you finally got rid of your ankle monitor, gaining some freedom.

You applied for a few jobs in the hope to save enough money to move out again, even before you were scheduled to relocate to New York to attend your photography course, while your mother was busy shopping for Award Season dresses with your sister who was keen to be a third wheel at the Golden Globes and Oscars that year.

"Why do you even want to go to these award shows with them? I mean, don't you feel weird about it?" you questioned your twin-sister Cliona one evening, as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, eating leftover pizza and chatting, while your mother was putting Sadie to bed. 

"Because it is fantastic for networking," she replied, chewing on a slice of pizza. "You never know who might be there and, besides, these events are great opportunities to show off," she added smugly, throwing a smug smile at you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes and ignore her comment, allowing her to talk some more. Cliona had always been more interested in your stepfather's status than you had and, although you sometimes wished that you didn't care about her attitude towards his fame, it bothered you a lot lately.

In recent days, you had become particularly moody and being in a house with her and your mother, often alone, didn't help your nerves, despite the fact that you did love them.

On top of that, you had tried to push Cillian out of your head, telling yourself that what had happened between you two was a mistake and nothing more, but try as you might, you couldn't forget it.

You couldn't forget the way he had touched you, made love to you, or even just looked at you. You had never felt so desired in your life and although it scared you, it also excited you beyond belief.

It was a push-pull experience that made you yearn for his presence while, at the same time, you wanted things to go back to the way there were before, when you didn't have these feelings of guilt and shame constantly lingering over you when your mother and twin-sister were around.

"So you aren't coming to any of the awards then?" Cliona repeated her previous question with a pout, which mad you realise that, this entire time, when you were thinking about Cillian, she had been talking to you.

"W-what?" you said, snapping out of your daze. "Um, no, I won't be attending any of the awards shows with you guys. It's not for me and I have too much on my plate at the moment," you lied, even though you had no job and not much to do, other than wait for your course to start.

Cliona shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, as if implying that you were missing out on a great opportunity, before finishing off her slice of pizza and standing up from her chair.

"Well, I'm heading to bed. See you tomorrow," she added, before walking out of the kitchen and leaving you alone in your thoughts.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, staring out the window just as your phone  beeped, signaling a new text message. 

"You've got the job!" was the message written in big bold letters on the screen from the nice bartender at a local establishment to which a friend had introduced you to the day before. 

Excitement bubbled inside of you, and your troubles seemed to vanish at the sight of the single message. You were absolutely broke , so this opportunity couldn't have come at a better time. You would be able to start working within the next few days, which provided a sense of financial security and a diversion from the drama you had created with Cillian.

Cillian, himself, arrived back home later that week just as you were about to head out for your first shift at the bar.

You were dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans, a fitted grey shirt and your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey," you greeted Cillian as he walked through the door, looking exhausted but happy to see you, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey," he replied, retaining his distance which, in your opinion, made this encounter somewhat awkward.

Luckily for you though, you were an expert in the art of small talk and, even though you hadn't mastered it, your tone sounded light and casual.

"How was your flight?" you asked, as he placed his luggage down and unzipped his jacket.

"Long," Cillian replied with a weary sigh before his eyes met yours again.

The connection was undeniable, burning with a passion that refused to quell. But he had his integrity, and perhaps that was something he would never compromise. Not even for you.

"Where are you off to?"  Cillian inquired, his gaze falling on your outfit while you were fidgeting with the house keys.

"Oh, I've got a job now ," you informed him cheerfully, attempting to keep your tone light while trying to overcome the fluttering feelings in your chest.

"Where at?" Cillian asked, raising an eyebrow, and you wanted to smile at his enthusiasm, but you held back, taking a deep breath instead.

"Just a bar, in town. It's called O'Rielly's and is really nothing special," you lied, trying to downplay the significance of this job, but Cillian could see right through it.

"That's great though," he said with a warm smile, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "Well done," he told you, knowing how you wanted to pay your own way. 

"Thanks. I really needed this. I was starting to feel like a burden around here," you muttered, not meaning to make the conversation heavy.

Cillian narrowed his gaze upon hearing that, sensing there was something more to your statement.

"You're not a burden, Y/N, and you never have been," he asserted, closing the distance between you, his hands resting on your upper arms reassuringly.

"Oh, I am sure my mother would disagree with you right now," you chuckled, not wanting to tell him about the many fights you had with her in recent days, all because you felt like a leech living in her house. "But listen, I really have to go. My shift starts at six," you said, zipping your jacket closed and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Cillian offered, breaking through your thoughts.

For a brief moment, you imagined what it would be like to spend a few more minutes alone with him in the car. But you quickly shook off that dangerous thought.

"Thanks, but I can take the bus," you said, smiling weakly. "Despite, you just got off a six-hour flight,"  you added.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "No, really. I've got this," you insisted, already moving towards the door.

Cillian sighed, looking like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to think better of it. "Alright, but call me when you get off work. I will pick you up. You shouldn't take the bus that late," he said, his voice firm.

You paused and looked back at him. "You worry too much,"  you said, but there was a small smile on your faces as you said it since you found his concern heartwarming.

"Only because I care," he replied with a warm smile before he allowed you to leave.

When you arrived at the bar for your shift, you found it bustling with people, eager to escape their daily routine. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and walked behind the bar, where the manager was waiting for you.

"Ah, Y/N! It's good to see you. Here, put this on," she said, handing you a shirt. "I'll show you the ropes."

The first few hours flew by quickly, with you learning the ins and outs of the bar, how to make drinks, take orders, and keep the customers happy.

The pace was fast but exciting, and you found yourself enjoying the buzz around you, serving drinks, laughing with the patrons and relishing in the anonymity and the freedom that came with working at a separate place of employment.

When things started to slow down, you checked the time on your phone and saw it was already after midnight. There was no way Cillian would still be up, you thought to yourself, as you dried your hands on your apron and walked towards the front of the bar but, just as you were about to bring up the bus schedule again, your phone buzzed with a new message.

"I'm still picking you up," it read, causing your heart to skip a beat.

You smiled to yourself, thankful for his concern and hit 'Reply,' typing out a quick thanks and an estimated time for the end of your shift. You knew that there was still some cleaning up to do, which would take about thirty minutes or more.

You put your phone back into your apron’s pocket and got to work, finishing up as quickly as possible and the friendly bar manager, Jeremy, offered you a drink on the house after you finished lifting up all the chairs.

"You did extremely well today," he praised, touching your shoulder. "And thanks for taking the shift last minute, you really saved me," he smiled, noting that you weren't actually meant to start until the week after. 

"I am glad I could help," you responded before noticing him flirting a little with you.

"I enjoyed working with you tonight Y/N. I am serious," Jeremy added with a wink, making you blush slightly and laugh off his compliment. "And you can have as many shifts as you want," he went on to say, which caught you off-guard, since most places usually put new hires on a light schedule.

"Oh, really?" you asked, trying to hide your surprise. "I mean, that sounds good," you added hastily, before taking another sip of your drink.

"Absolutely. I would love to have you on the team, you are a star already," Jeremy complimented you again, causing your face to flush with heat.

You chuckled nervously and glanced down at your phone, checking the time, and saw a message from Cillian: "I will be there in a minute," it read, making you plan your exit. 

"I, uhm, I gotta go now if that's okay?" you  said shyly, biting your lip as you met Jeremy's gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment longer than necessary before he looked away, just as Cillian reluctantly pushed open the door to the bar, looking straight at the two of you.

"We are closed," Jeremy announced, trying to sound imposing, but you interrupted him.

"It's okay. He is just...uhm...picking me up," you stammered, shuffling your feet nervously as you broke eye contact with Jeremy. "He won't let me take the bus and now this is all really awkward," you then blurted out, causing Cillian to raise an eyebrow.

"I am Cillian. Y/N's..." Cillian paused before saying the word. "Stepfather," he clarified hesitantly, offering a polite smile and his hand to Jeremy for a handshake. There was a slight tension in the air as Jeremy hesitantly shook Cillian's hand, eyeing him carefully, before finally giving you a nod. 

"Oh, right. Of course," Jeremy said, seeming to understand that there was nothing more to this interaction, which made you feel more at ease. 

"I'll just...uhm...go and get my things from the back then," you muttered nervously before quickly scurrying towards the back room to collect your belongings.

You could feel both Cillian's and Jeremy's eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag, your heart hammering away in your chest.

You had never been very good at hiding your emotions, and it seemed that both men had picked up on you feeling somewhat out of place right now. 

"Okay, I'm ready," you eventually said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face as you walked back out to the front of the bar and, after Jeremy thanked you for your hard work, you followed Cillian out of the door, your heart still racing.

"You know you really didn't have to stay up for me," you said as Cillian opened the car door for you.

"I know. But I wanted to make sure you got home safely. Besides, I was still up anyway," he replied, his tone serious.

As you sat next to him in his car, you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about Jeremy and how he had been looking at you throughout the night and, it was also something that Cillian had picked upon. 

"Everything okay?" Cillian asked, seeming to sense your discomfort.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied, forcing a smile.

"I can see the bar manager has already taken a liking in you," Cillian said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I think, maybe, he has," you confirmed, looking out of the window of the car as Cillian expertly drove through the quiet streets of the city.

"Then again, he works in a bar. I am sure he has taken a liking to many women who have worked there," Cillian replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

You remained silent for a moment, trying to decipher his intent, but you chose not to press further at that moment.

"Are you jealous?"  you blurted out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. It was the last thing you wanted to imply, given the circumstances.

Cillian glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, causing you to quickly backtrack.

"I mean, not that you have any reason to be, of course. I am just your stepdaughter after all," you added hastily, your cheeks flushed as you watched Cillian's expression soften.

"No, I'm not jealous," he replied softly. "I am just concerned about you, that's all. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"Sure, we will leave at that," you nodded, understanding his concern, and looked away, embarrassed that you had even brought it up.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with neither of you speaking. But, despite the silence, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to ignore the thoughts and images that swirled in your mind.

The memories of the connection you shared, the intimacy you both had experienced, and the desire that still lingered, seemed to be clouding your judgement, and you couldn't help but long for that closeness again.

The car pulled up outside the house, and Cillian turned off the engine, allowing the silence to envelop you. He shifted in his seat as he glanced at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness. You could sense that he was trying to read your thoughts, but you couldn't find the words to explain what was going on in your head.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, conflicting desires, and unspoken truths that clashed together, creating turbulence you were struggling to navigate.

"We should go inside and get some rest. It's late," you  said softly, your eyes meeting Cillian's. There was a lingering tension between you both, as if his gaze could combust the emotions resparking within you.

"Yeah," Cillian  replied after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. He let out a long breath before he opened his car door, stepping out on the pavement.

Only after he had fully closed the car door did you realize that you had been holding your breath. It was then that you released it in a sigh, feeling strangely disappointed that the night had ended like this, with awkwardness and silence and no connection between you both, except the remembered one.

You quickly exited his car, feeling embarrassed at how much your feelings for him had control over you at times, now that he was ignoring them too.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Cillian muttered, almost under his breath after you both stepped inside, as if he was too afraid to say it any louder.

You turned to him, your eyes wide with surprised and confusion, before you replied with a hoarse "Goodnight" and walking up the stairs, leaving Cillian to stand alone in the hallway. 

Tags:

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[gotham-daydreams]

Oh my god due to the recent Alfred ask it makes me wonder and scream at the thought if there has ever been a moment when Reader asked Alfred if there's something else they can call him. Like DAD perhaps...(and this can go for different routes and so many juicy things, but ill get into that later).

But since the backstory is up to us, I like to think the Reader has a bio family which was questionable(maybe I'm projecting), so they never had a good track record with their dad and then Bruce adopted them and we know that didn't end well.

So when they ask Alfred if there's something else they can call him ( a lil show that they do see him closer than anyone and that he's important to us.) We could have gone back and forth with him talking about what to call him and stuff when we jokingly say something along the lines of "maybe not Dad since my track record with such isn't the best." Maybe they open up to Alfred about how their family/ life was before they were adopted by the batfam. Maybe even admit they can't see anyone as a dad figure after them (😭), so the thought is uncomfy for them( this hits in so many ways.) Or how they're scared if they call him dad something will change about Alfred and become like their 'dads'.

Which will undoubtedly hit some strings with Alfred. Seeing as how every 'dad' has failed them to the point they can't fathom or be comfortable with seeing or thinking of someone as a dad. But the fact that BRUCE had played a part in it 💀... Which is what's making the Reader confused and feel unsecured in his own personal relationship with the Reader (on what to call him, but probably in other stuff as well).

Back to the top part of the reader asking what they can call him, and they end up at something along the lines or at calling Alfred Dad.

It will undoubtedly make his heart squeeze and scrumble( One way could be he's being called 'Dad' after so long). Probably make Alfred a lot closer to the reader than before. Probably stepping up to the title and being closer taking care of Reader even more, now that he knows they have that emotional bond( stronger than before and the permission).

For little cute ideas/cenerios I imagine he makes an even greater effort to come to our plays and tournaments and sit front row probably recording.( in a reserved seat next to all the other empty ones 😒). And get a lil prissy when he can't make it (ESPECIALLY IF ITS BC OF THE BATFAM). He asks some of the organizers to record it specifically for him if they aren't doing it already, so he can watch it live (or once handed to him)while doing whatever keeps him from going. All so he can talk about it with us when we come back home and show how proud of us he is.

Definitely gets us gifts for each performance/ tournaments. If he was present he would walk with us a while after it ended and get us ice cream or out for a celebratory dinner. 😭

Okay but now for the lil angst part in that moment when we settle on what to call Alfred whenever it would be similar or is Dad or a different title all together that would be the moment we lose any real attachments to the Batfam. Not seeing them as siblings or parental figures anymore. At most just wanted to impress them but that quickly died off and just just focused on what we do have.

Alfred would also know that that was the moment or the end of the falling bridge with the Batfam and Reader. Which would probably hurt him cause the Batfam is still his family, but now he also has us and sees our neglect and what the batfam's consequences are. Probably breaking his own hope of us being accepted/ integrated into it and the Batfam to being back a normal dysfunctional but loving family with us in it.

Okay but the real ANGST. It's not just the reader and Alfred having heart to heart or other situations between the two of them. BUT INSTEAD BRUCE HEARING READER CALL ALFRED THE TITLE WE SETTLED ON. And it doesn't have to be only Bruce that would work for angst because the others are smart so if they hear Reader call Alfred by the title... They know it doesn't correlate to them and their relationship of being Reader's sibling because Alfred isn't that title to them. Connecting and discovering at the same time that the Reader doesn't see them as siblings and hasn't for a time they weren't even aware of.

Imagining just Bruce sneaking away and thinking by himself or even confronting Alfred 😩😩. The Batkids doing their research seeing Reader live their life completely disconnected from theirs only hammering that Reader doesn't see them as family. The only thing connecting to them being Alfred and even Alfred is a different role in Reader's life than in theirs.

Maybe Batfam finds out about what the Reader tried to get their attention only to give up, maybe they don't and just see the Reader slipping away until the Reader becomes a foggy memory again until the Reader moves away like in the [Not] series everything follows.

Hope you enjoy 🥰🥰💕 drink water 💦

Yeah!!! And since there is another ask that's about the reader considering Alfred their dad, and how Bruce would react to that, I won't be going too much into how Bruce himself would react since I'd like to explain it there when I get to it- but I will say that in very, very simple terms. Bruce is not happy about it. At all.

As for how the whole name thing would start? Alfred would definitely say that you can call him whatever you'd like, but will definitely silently try to nudge you in the direction of calling him dad or something akin to that. He may not expect it to work right away, especially in this scenario where the reader already has a messy relationship with people who were supposed to be their father's in the past. However, when you do call him dad or something similar, he is literally about to cry.

He won't cry in front of you! But he might later-

Regardless, words cannot express the amount of joy he feels when that happens, and as you've mentioned, Alfred does try to not let you down. Unwilling to become another reason why you have a hard time seeing people as your father, or father-figure. He feels more inclined to look after you above everyone else, and tries even harder to be present. There isn't a single event of performance that he'll miss willingly, and even if he does- he has his ways of making it up to you, even if you know that it was out of his hands.

I think a neat detail would also be that the amount of unoccupied seats next to him slowly shorten with time. It starts off with there being a seat for everyone in the Batfam, but as time goes on the amount begins to dwindle, until there's just one for him. Maybe with the occasional one other seat beside him if it's for an event, and you get to sit next to him before going or doing whatever you have to. Further showing how you, as the reader, begin to care less and less about the Batfam, and really only see/recognize Alfred as your family. As there is only one reserved seat for him at each and every performance and tournament.

I think the idea of the Batfam noticing this and trying to fix it, yet the reader still being able to slip away, and them forgetting all over again is both just out right heartbreaking and infuriating.

Like, can you imagine as a neglected!reader, finally having your family notice you (despite you growing used to their lack of attention at this point), only to have them forget you exist all over again? Or just forget about you enough to where you still leave without saying much of anything, and only leave behind a note to the one person you considered family?

And imagine the Batfam- not only feeling, but knowing that they've failed you more than they could ever imagine? Not only making you feel alone and isolated in your own home, since they never noticed you, not only once, but twice? That's borderline unforgivable. They noticed you, and somehow still managed to neglect you all over again. It's astonishing, really. Maybe they do have powers after all.

But really- how I could see that happening is if they get too busy with the idea of you rather you yourself, if that makes sense?

Through their research and everything, they form a version of you in their heads that they're all clinging onto, that they unintentionally don't give the real you a chance. Hell, they don't even give themselves a chance to even see it as they drown in their own delusions. Stuck with plans and ideas they ultimately never saw through, either because they were far too worried to further mess things up (like a certain brooding bat), or were far too certain of the outcome and therefore came up with more ideas and plans that they ended up not doing. Like a certain robin who, after two generations, finally wore pants. So by the time they realize their mistake, (which probably happenss when one of them finally decides to actually act on a plan they made) you're gone. Lost to the wind. Like a distant whisper they nevr quite heard, but dreamed about encountering ever since. Forgetting that chasing and searching were things they could do right from the start instead.

Though Alfred and the reader having a heart to heart? Please, we could all really use that. Forget about how horrible Alfred is behind the scenes- we need the closest thing we can get to a positive influence in this family. Or really just a good source of comfort, honestly.

Though his dying hope does break his heart, he just takes it as another opportunity to fill in the shoes of being your father. Even if at this point it means being your only family out of everyone in the Batfam, then so be it. He'll just have to fill in where they refuse to, but he doesn't mind since it gets him more time with you- and I can imagine that, despite the hurt of realizing that you'll never be 'fully' apart of the Wayne family, at least you have a part with Alfred and the Pennyworth's. And there is some comfort and reassurance that comes with that. Since, while you may not be able to have this big, huge family- at least you have this small, comfortable one right here with Alfred.

Hell, this time around Alfred might even fully support the reader moving away, as he's more certain than ever that he'll still have that connection with them. That he and the reader will actually communicate, and as long as he can still see them and so on- he doesn't mind.

He'll let the Batfam run around, and play dumb at all the right moments with that sassy, sarcastic attitude of his. Letting them know that they've wasted their opportunity- wasted the one real chance they had with you, and probably won't be getting another one.

After all, it isn't his fault that they fucked up. If anything, he's probably the only reason why the reader is connected to the Batfam at all, or even associates with them the smallest amount. It isn't because of Bruce or any of the others. It's because of Alfred. Even if he won't say it out loud, he'll make sure that they all know it one way or another, and though Alfred doesn't necessarily view himself as cruel- he wouldn't mind throwing a little shade if it meant emphazing that point a little further.

You are his kid. His family. Why would they think otherwise?

On a lighter, more wholesome note, I definitely agree with the more light/cuter ideas!!

Alfred is definitely spoiling you if he can help it, and will poorly disguise his favoritism- though probably would stop even trying to hide it all together at some point.

There is never a moment where Alfred doesn't/won't remind you of how proud of you he is, and how much you've improved. He isn't afraid to admit that you're doing a good job or doing the right thing, even if you can be reckless at times, to your face. And if you end up doubting your ability, or just yourself as a whole, Alfred will definitely be there to comfort you, and remind you of how well you've been doing and reiterate how proud you make him.

He wants you to know that he'll always be there for you, and by the time you leave, you still feel that.

Alfred also makes sure to check up on you and tend to your needs, along with spend time with you in other ways- which does include, but isn't limited to; watching films at home, baking/cooking together, sewing, reading, tending to the garden, and just generally being in each other's space. Maybe even a small hang out outside of the manor if you both can help it.

Nevertheless, that was a fun read, and I fully agree!! Make sure to drink some water and rest up too!

[hanniebaeee]

Adore you

Hyunjin x reader (ft best friend Lee Know)

Warnings: crying, some kissing, jealousy, the reader has a shitty family and is severely codependent on Minho, Minho is not really toxic - he's just afraid to lose you

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: Having come from a dysfunctional family, your best friend Minho is everything to you. But when you fall in love with Hyunjin, you find Minho blocking your path and the love of your life slipping away from you.

a/n: Hyunjin is a cutie pie in this one - I just wanna squish his cheeks and keep him safe forever 😭 And please remember, this is just a story!

Your cheeks felt warm and tingly as Hyunjin placed a soft kiss on it.

'This was fun' he said, giving you a shy smile.

'Yeah, I had a great time, Hyunjin. Thank you.' You said, blushing. You liked him so much! And this little date was everything you had ever dreamt about. And within these few hours with him, you had learned how thoughtful and sweet he really was.

'My pleasure, and I hope we'll do more of this soon.' Hyunjin gave you a toothy grin. 'See you in class tomorrow?'

You nod and said good night. Hyunjin lingered, hands in his pockets and his face revealing the fact that he was contemplating something. Your heart raced as he stepped forward again, this time placing a soft peck on your lips. Though a bit surprised, you couldn't hide the smile that bloomed on your face. And this had him smiling all over again.

You both laugh nervously before he sent one last flying kiss your way and started walking away. Your heart fluttered as you watched him leave. He looked back again before disappearing around the corner.

You stepped into your shared apartment and as you were removing your shoes, you heard footsteps coming your way. Smiling, you face your best friend Minho. He smiled too, but you sensed some tension there.

'You ok?' You asked, walking into the kitchen and pouring a glass of water.

'Why wouldn't I be?' Minho asked, and you knew that something was definitely off. 'How was your date?'

'It was so good, Lino!' You gushed. 'Hyunjin-'

'I didn't know it was Hyunjin.' Minho cut you off. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'We just decided to go right after class and it wasn't planned or anything' You shrugged. 'Do you know him?'

'I do.' Minho replied, turning away from you. 'How do you know him, exactly?'

You frown at the way he was questioning you, and he wasn't even looking at you anymore.

'We share a class.' You said, walking towards your best friend. 'Min, what's this?'

'You're a bio student. And he's in business. What class do you share?' Minho asked, raising an eye brow.

'My elective class' You mumbled, looking down at your hands.

'If I knew you were going out with Hyunjin, I would have said something.' Minho said and you were taken aback by that. You felt all of your excitement from the day ebb away.

'Why would you say that, Min? I really like him. He's really nice!' You said, sadly.

'I just don't want you to get hurt ok? I know being away from home is hard. And I know sometimes people offer comfort and a sense of safety. But don't walk into a trap, Y/N. This is not the first time for him. But it is for you. You should be careful.'

'So what if he's had girlfriends before? I mean you've had them too!'

'Are you gonna compare me with him now?' Minho sounded offended. 'I promised your mum that I'll look after you. I'm just keeping my word.'

You felt tears cloud your eyes and anger course through your veins. You hated fighting with Minho, so you just took a few steps back before running to her room. You wiped your tears away, feeling totally heartbroken.

Minho was your best friend since childhood. He and his family had been your support system since then, when your own family failed to be there for you. And being in a new country as a student was hard, but having him with you was a blessing. He protected you and fussed over you so much, you never had to worry about anything.

Through your tears, your thoughts wandered back to Hyunjin. He did struggle with his English a lot, but you loved his cute accent and how hard he tried just to communicate with you. He had been nothing but kind to you from the start, and so Minho's accusations just felt wrong.

The next day, Minho was still not in his best mood, but you walked to college together.

'I'll meet you after class.' he said. 'If you don't have any plans, that is.'

You just shook your head before heading towards class. Your heart pounded at the thought of seeing Hyunjin. And right as you entered the lecture hall and found your seat, Hyunjin had spotted you and was coming over.

Sitting next to you, he said, 'Hey Y/N.'

'Hi Hyunjin.'

You forgot all about Minho's warnings as Hyunjin started talking and two hours went flying by. Ans over the days, you couldn't help but fall for the guy. He was just so sweet, you were confused and you didn't really know what to do anymore.

You hated sneaking around Minho, but you couldn't shake the thought that he was being unreasonable. You had lunch with Hyunjin whenever you could, but he understood when you told him that you had to go with Minho sometimes.

You knew that Hyunjin was very fond of you from the little things that he did. Dropping your favorite chocolates on your table on his way to his seat in the middle of a crowded class, smiling cutely as you blushed. Or just sitting opposite you in the library as you studied, sketching into his book, or just watching you silently.

One day he had found you in a corner of the library, hand pressed to your mouth as you cried. Another one of your fights with your family. All the name calling and the insults had you falling deeper into self pity and such loneliness. But Hyunjin pulled you into a hug and told you that you were none of those things they called you and that you were the most precious girl in the world.

And then he kissed you, so softly. Just so soft and warm and comforting. And you had opened up to him, about your life back home and about Minho. How he had always saved you from everything. And everyone. How you felt like you owed your life to him.

Hyunjin listened as you spoke and held you as you cried. And then he told you that he wanted you to be his girlfriend, that he was crazy about you. You nod and say yes. You wanted that too. He had introduced you to his friends, Felix and Seungmin, who took you in immediately. You hated yourself for not having the courage to talk to Minho and just tell him that Hyunjin meant the world to you.

You tried. You tried to talk to Minho about Hyunjin, and every time, he left the conversation hanging. Minho had never thought he would feel this way. He had been seeing Jisoo for a while now and he was so sure that he loved her. But then there was you.

For years, he was everything to you. You turned to him for literally everything and he was incredibly possessive about you. And seeing you look at Hyunjin with heart eyes had him seething. He was jealous and more than that, so afraid of losing you. Having another man in your life, who'll protect you and get to love you in ways he had only dreamed of.

Minho knew he was being selfish, but just couldn't lose you. He was sorry, but he was also desperate. Every time he dismissed you, you left crestfallen, looking so heartbroken - it broke his own heart, but to him, losing to someone else was worse than anything else.

Hyunjin was confused as to why you never introduced him to Minho. His friends adored you, and he wished he could have such a relationship with your friends too. He did know some of the girls you hung out with in class, but wanted to know why he didn't get to meet Minho till now. So, he voiced his thoughts to you one day.

'How come we never hang out at yours?' He asked casually. 'I mean, we can always hang out with Minho. I've never met him personally, I would like to.'

'Um, sure, we just never bring anyone home...' You lied, feeling afraid all of a sudden. You knew that shoving this problem under the carpet was a short term thing. And you really didn't know what would happen if you told him that Minho didn't like him.

'I know that Jisoo visits all the time.' Hyunjin said, giving you a strange look. 'Isn't Minho seeing her? So, this about me, yeah?'

'What, no!' You said quickly.

'Whats going on, Y/N? Are you doubtful about us? Are you ashamed of me or something?' Hyunjin asked, the hurt clear on his face.

'Hyunjin, no! Oh my God!' You stood up, panicking. 'I like you so much, Jinnie... I am sure I'm in love with you... I just have things to sort out before I can-'

'Yeah? You love me? Then what's this, hm?' Hyunjin asked, folding his hands against his chest.

Your cheeks grew red in embarrassment as you realize that your confession just diffused into the air. Hyunjin showed no emotion whatsoever. He just looked angry.

'I'm sorry.' You said, feeling a lump in your throat and your eyes stung with tears.

'Minho doesn't feel good about our relationship. He's been against it right from the start. I...I haven't been able to talk to him about it...I've tried, I swear, Hyunjin. He's been acting so off and I don't want to lose either of you. I grew up with him, he's done so much for me... I can't hurt his feelings.'

Hyunjin just looked like he was stabbed in his heart.

'Oh? So what about my feelings?' He asked, his voice shaking. 'What about me?'

'I'm so so sorry, Jinnie. I will talk to Minho. I will fix this ok? Please don't be mad.' You pleaded, tears now streaming down your face.

'I have nothing to say to you, Y/N. I feel like an idiot right now. You clearly chose what you want, and it's definitely not me.' Hyunjin just looked so hurt and defeated, you wished the earth would just fucking split and swallow you whole. 'I don't want to be your dirty little secret. Do you understand? I am proud to say that you're my girlfriend. If you don't feel the same way, then we can't be together anymore.'

You just stared at him. He was actually breaking up with you?

'I can't do this, ok? Whatever this is. I want you to think about your priorities, yeah?' Hyunjin's words felt like swords through your heart.

You nod, now sobbing uncontrollably. Hyunjin turned away, hiding his own tears as the girl he loved quickly picked up her things and left his apartment. Then he sat curled up on the sofa, breaking down.

Minho watched in worry as you came home in tears, going straight to your room. You locked the door and refused to come out. He sat in front of your door, heart heavy and guilt ridden. Jisoo had come over later that night, and you let her hold you, as you cried. When she got you to come out, you didn't speak or cry. You were so numb, you could hardly feel anything.

You and Hyunjin avoided each other at college. Felix gave you a sad smile when he passed you in the halls, but Seungmin glared daggers at you. One day, you were going down the stairs and Seungmin and Hyunjin were coming up. Seungmin scoffed as he saw you, and Hyunjin just pretended to not have seen you at all. You tried to hold in the tears till you reached a restroom, and hid in a cubicle for hours, crying.

By now, Minho knew something was very wrong. No matter how many times he asked, you just shook him off. You told him that you needed space. You believed that this was all your fault. Everything your family said about you was true. You weren't worth loving. You weren't worth anything.

You had trusted Minho to never ever hurt you. And he took that trust and crumbled it so bad, you were afraid this can't ever be fixed. The sad fact was that it was just your nature. You put people on a pedestal and they fucked with you all the time. It was true that you craved love and affection, something you never got from your home. Minho had taken you under his wing and more than your best friend, he had been your family.

You felt the need for his approval all the time. You had always put him first out of love, but now this had gone and destroyed the one thing you treasured so much.

A week later, things were still bad and you had the worst thoughts forming in your mind. You were going through a particularly bad session of overthinking, when Minho came into your room. He took in your shabby form and was taken aback. There were dark circles around your eyes, and your cheeks, visibly more pale.

'Wanna order pizza and watch a movie tonight? Jisoo's coming over.' He said, sitting on your bed.

'Ok' You said, not taking your eyes off the book you were reading.

'Why don't you go take a shower? I'll get things ready by then.' Minho said, hoping that you would just talk to him.

'Ok.' You said again.

'What's going on, cupcake?' Minho's old pet name for you sat heavily on her heart. 'Is this about Hyunjin? Did something happen? Please just talk to me.'

'Let's talk after the movie, yeah?' You said.

'Ok. ' Minho said, nodding. 'You know you can tell me anything, right?'

You nod. You didn't think this would change anything. Hyunjin hated you. It felt like everyone hated you.

Jisoo couldn't help but notice the tension between her boyfriend and you. She was well aware of Minho's little crush on you and that he'd been fucking with your feelings for Hyunjin for a while now. It made Jisoo so mad. She was just waiting for an opportunity to give him a piece of her mind. She really liked Minho and she was quite fond of you too. And it saddened her to see you both hurt.

A bit into the movie, your phone pinged. You checked it absentmindedly and your heart fluttered seeing Hyunjin's name in the notification.

Jinnie: Can we talk?

You felt a fresh supply of tears threatening to spring out any moment. Your eyes met Jisoo's, who gave you a kind smile.

Y/N: Ok

Jinnie: Come outside?

Y/N: Are you here?!

Jinnie: For the past 1 hour, yeah

Y/N: Give me a minute

You stood up and aaid 'I need some air. Gonna step out ok?'

'What's wrong, I'll come with you-' Minho was on his feet.

'I want to be alone, Min. Please.' You said, looking at Jisoo for help.

He was ready to protest, but Jisoo held him back.

'Go ahead, Y/N.' She said. 'Take your time.'

You stepped out and saw Hyunjin sitting on the stairs leading up to your house.

'Hyunjin.' You said softly and Hyunjin stood up, turning to look at you. It broke his heart to see you like this and he felt guilty.

'Y/N.' he didn't even know where to start. All he wanted to do was hug you.

'Everything ok?' Y/N asked, nervously. 'Were you really sitting here for an hour?'

'I was.' Hyunjin said with a shrug. 'Let's step away from the door?'

He didn't want Minho to come out and see him. He wasn't ready for a fight of any sort. Not tonight. You follow Hyunjin as he walked and stopped when he did.

'I didn't know how to do this, Y/N.' He said, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

You drew in a shaky breath and said, 'It's ok, Hyunjin. I understand. You don't have to say anything. You deserve someone better. I understand, it's not me. It's ok.'

You bite your lip to contain your sobs and wipe at your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, not looking at him.

He just gives you a confused look before saying, 'What?'

'Didn't you come to tell me that you are done with me?' You asked, still not looking.

'No no no. Y/N, baby, oh my God, no!' He took quick steps to reach you, and cupped your cheeks with his hands. 'Baby, look at me.'

You do, and you don't see hate in his eyes. Instead, he is looking at you with the same love and adoration that he did before.

'Y/N, I'm so sorry for snapping at you that day. I was just so hurt, I couldn't think. It hurt me so much to think that you put Minho first.' Hyunjin said. 'I-I couldn't wrap my head around that. I didn't stop to think that he is not just a friend. I didn't even think about everything you've told me. I understand why he's so important to you, sweetheart. I do. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way. Oh my God.'

You tried your best not to cry.

'And when you told me that you love me, I threw it at your face like it was nothing.' Hyunjin's voice cracked as he said that. 'I hate myself for it. Because, I love you too. I love you so much. I just-'

You look at Hyunjin, heart racing. Did he just say that?

'I mean it, I'm in love with you, baby. I want you back. I want you in my life and I'll do anything for it. You don't have to tell him about me till you're ready. Just, just take me back?' Hyunjin's cheeks were a sweet pink, his eyes gazing longingly at you.

You couldn't think or speak. You just threw your arms around his waist, hugging him. His arms went around you immediately, burying his face in your neck. He was too tall for you, so he had to bend down to be able to do that.

'I adore you, Jinnie. I thought I lost you!' You whimpered. 'I wanted to die. I just...I couldn't think of not being with you. I love you so much.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' Hyunjin said, cupping your cheeks in his big hands. 'I'm yours.'

He kissed you, a long wet one at that. And you pulled him close to you, desperate to have him as close as you could.

Minho was restless. His eyes kept darting towards the door, anticipating your return. Jisoo had had enough, and paused the movie.

'Minnie.' she said, tapping his arm. 'We have to talk.'

'Hm?' Minho looked at her, confused.

'So, I need you to get your head outta your ass so that you think about what I'm saying, ok?' Jisoo said calmly. 'This is for your own good. And Y/N's. I know you both are childhood friends and things, but she's my friend too and she's fucking miserable.'

This had Minho's attention.

'I know that you love her Minho. And not just as a friend. That's totally ok, since you guys grew up together and she's always been there. That's all fine. But I NEED you to understand that she doesn't feel the same. She loves you, Minnie. But as her best friend. There is nothing romantic about it and if you really think there's even a little chance for her to feel something other than friendship for you, then you're in for some huge disappointment.'

Jisoo's words weren't something Minho didn't know. Yet, it hit him hard. He was selfish enough to want to try to win her over somehow.

'She is in love, Minnie. She is in love with someone and you have been really cruel with her. She is depressed and miserable because she is bent on getting your approval. She respects you and wants you to be happy for her.' Jisoo said, taking Minho's hand inher own. 'After everything she's been through, you're the only one she can really call her family. And is it fair that you are making her let go of something so precious to her?'

'How do you know all this?' Minho asked, feeling so lost.

'Because she is my friend too. So is Hyunjin. Don't take advantage of her trust and love. You're not that person. I know you're not.'

'I've never been this afraid my entire life. Seeing her want to be with someone who isn't me... that's something I never prepared myself for.' Minho said, a tear rolling down his cheek. 'Jisoo, I'm so sorry... I fucked up. I could never live with myself if she hates me... She's, she's -'

He covers his face with his hands and lets out a sob.

'What have I done?' He cried, as Jisoo rubbed his back, trying to console him.

Minho felt like he'd just failed two women he was crazy for.

Hyunjin wiped the tears off your face and gave you a tender smile.

'No more crying. Not for me, Ok?' He said. 'I'll wait, as long as it takes.'

You took his hand and said, 'Let's go meet Minho.'

'What? No, not like this.' Hyunjin said shaking his head.

'I already told him that I wanted to talk to him. It's ok. It had to happen one day. I don't want to lose you, Jinnie. I've lost enough. Not you too.'

You led Hyunjin into the house, holding his hand tightly. Minho and Jisoo stood up as they saw you. Jisoo smiled happily and Minho just looked... sad?

'Min, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Hyunjin. I know I should have done this long back. I was so afraid to disappoint you. I was lying to you and to Hyunjin and to myself... I'm so tired of this. I love him, Minho and I want to be with him. But I don't wanna lose you because of this. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do! Can't we all be happy? Can't you be happy for me?' Your voice was strained and it broke Minho's heart.

He looked at Hyunjin who looked just as miserable as you.

'Im so sorry, Y/N.' He said, eyes filling up with tears. 'I don't know what came over me. I was afraid to lose you... I was so afraid...I am such an asshole for hurting you.'

You just look at him sadly.

'Will you forgive me? Can we start over?' Minho asked, moving forward to take your hand in his and squeezing it. 'Please?'

'I love you, you idiot!' You said, hugging your best friend.

Minho gave a little laugh, letting you crush him with your hug. Hyunjin and Jisoo shared a look and smiled in relief. Letting go of Minho, you looked at Hyunjin.

'This is my best friend.' You said, giving him a big smile.

'Nice to meet you, Minho.' Hyunjin said, holding out his hand.

'And you. This could've been better.' Minho said, shaking his hand. 'I'm sorry, for everything. I hope we can put this behind us, Hyunjin.'

'I'm glad we worked it out.' Hyunjin said, smiling.

Minho and you lay on your bed, side by side. Just like you did when you were kids.

'I've always dreamed of you walking me down the aisle on my wedding day.' You said suddenly. 'Can you think of that?'

You turned your head to look at him.

'Makes perfect sense.' Minho said with a shrug. 'I would be upset if you didn't let me.'

You smiled and said, 'There wasn't another option, Minnie.'

Minho cleared his throat, feeling warm all of a sudden. He had thought that losing you to another man would destroy him. But strangely, he didn't feel too destroyed. He felt happy and relieved to see you smile after so long. And he liked Hyunjin a lot. The way he looked at you was enough for Minho to know that you were in good hands.

He was afraid that Jisoo would want to end things with him, though. He waited in silence as you kissed Hyunjin good night when his friends came to pick him up. He watched the two boys pull you into hugs, and how affectionate they were to you. After you had gone to get ready for bed, it was just him and Jisoo.

'Are we good Jisoo?' He asked in a small voice.

Jisoo looked up, frowning.

'What? Why wouldn't we be?' Jisoo asked. 'You ok?'

'Jisoo, after everything that happened today...you aren't mad?'

'Minnie, I'm so proud of you. Letting go isn't easy. When it comes to love, it's even harder. And you did the right thing today. So I'm not mad. A little jealous, maybe, but not mad. I can work on that if you promise me you'll work on it too.' Jisoo said, giving him a smile.

Minho just sighed in relief before pulling his girlfriend into a bone crushing hug.

'Thank you, baby. Thank you.' He mumbled. 'I love you.'

'I love you too, Minnie.' Jisoo said, pecking him on his lips. 'Pick me up at 8, ok?'

'Yeah, I'll be there' Minho promised.

He smiled as he thought of Jisoo.

'I can think of us in the future.' You said, breaking his thought bubble. 'You and Jisoo. Jinnie and me. Our babies. It'll be the cutest thing ever!'

Minho laughed.

'I bet it will be.'

[smehur]

More Harry/Draco fics I loved

I'm reading so much fic, I don't have time to read the actual books! And my Read Later list still keeps growing! Thank you, Drarry Tumblr, for feeding me so well. Here's a little something in return.

In the order of reading them:

Bitter Honey, Green Night by Faith Wood

An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery.

I loved this story for the seduction, and the tension, and one of the most exquisite, most intimate sex scenes I've ever encountered. Even weeks after reading, it still lingers in my mind and I can envision it with almost painful clarity. I admit I wished the story went on: although the main conflict got a satisfying resolution, there could've been a bit more closure (read: another sex scene). Not a critique, mind you--if I were in the author's shoes, I'd have probably stopped there too--just the longings of an insatiable fan.

i was having visions of sugared pastry (cooked up in clarified butter) by infectiousdisease, solifuge

Draco Malfoy doesn't remember a time before his eating disorder. Not that he'd call it that.

This one gutted me in all the right ways. Draco with an eating disorder passed on from Narcissa clicked for me with frightening ease. It just rings so true? The unflinching depictions of his mental and physical illness, of his relations with his dysfunctional family and the bullying he inflicted on others made my stomach clench--and I loved it. I also loved how the horrors of the war were communicated as subtext, reflected in Draco's war against himself, rather than explicitly, to great effect. I loved the soft things too: Draco's relationship with Harry developing between the lines, the cathartic trial scene and the well-earned beginnings of recovery, all written in brisk, efficient prose that cuts to the marrow. An absolute gem of a fic.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Easily one of the loveliest stories I've read in this fandom so far. Draco is such an unmitigated darling; I rooted for him deeply, while fearing at the same time that he'd fuck things up irreparably, lol. And Harry, dear, pure, clueless Harry, with his long-time crush that's teased but never fully elaborated. There's also a little owl, heart-warming moments between Draco and his parents, his unrelenting focus on clothes and a scene where he goes jogging in a Muggle park wearing robes (and little else).

All that said, the end left me feeling weirdly cheated. (Spoiler alert!) Harry says it himself: it's not fair that Draco had their first kiss without him. Was Draco's exploration of the timeloop selfish, or just inconsiderate, or entirely justified? What would Harry have done in his shoes? Not gonna lie: I kept mulling over this for days.

Mortal Frame by tackytiger

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

Oh, this was such a treat. Mysterious, atmospheric and reticent in just the perfect measure, it had me wide-eyed and heart-aching and mouth-watering. Most of my reading is about Harry and Draco getting together, and I'm always surprised when stories where they're already a couple (of one sort or another) manage to evoke in me such deep longing. If you haven't already, go read this now.

À Bon Chat by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Omg, this fic. I don't even know where to start with the praise. It is so well-written, and so well-researched, and it offers such insight, not only into our beloved characters, but into human nature in general. I still can't decide whether I entirely bought the ending or not. But that didn't lessen my enjoyment of the story; it even contributed to it by making me engage with it on a deeper level. I remain astonished and humbled.

Tagging the authors I managed to find on here: @faith2wood, @oknowkiss, @tackytigerfic. Thank you for enriching my life! 💚

[ohmycale]

I read your argument post and I read the same opinions online. I would like to ask if you considered that Deruth might have hestitant to communucate his feelings because he mught lose his relationship with Cale. I agree with the opinions that communication is important but shouldnt Cale also communicate his father?

Also, you cant deny that Cale wasnt the best person in his version in the story. He was called a trash for a reason.

I also feel that you keep Violan, Basen and Lily out? Do you not consider them as Cale's family? Why or why not?

Anyway, interested on what you think

My take on this:

Deruth is the adult. Cale is the child. It doesnt matter how many times have passed. That is their relationship and their dynamic. It is the duty of the adult/parent to care for the child and assume all the heavy lifting in the relationship until Cale himself is an adult. The main reason is that in the end, it is the adult/Deruth who brought Cale into this world and is tasked to guide said Cale - not the other way around. And Deruth's problems or flaws will affect Cale no matter what. I also like to highlight that almost all power and authority resides in Deruth as a parent and adult in all ways - good or bad.

ETA: There is a line in Sekiro by the last boss - Hesitation is defeat. It's fine to hesitate - as long there is also an acceptance of the risk with the choice. In this case, the growing gap and distance between the two, the continuation of resentment or other negative feelings Cale has for the relationship. While distant is not yet formed as full rejection here, constant isolation and uneasiness in the relationship are good ingredients to maybe a permanent no contact with each other in the future. TLDR - Hesitate at your own risk.

re:Cale communicaitng. Sure, Cale can talk. The issue is - is he comfortable enough with his relationship with Deruth to actually communicate his true feelings? Deruth distanced himself and Cale would have definately felt that. Deruth was given a wide berth due to his grief and his remarriage - assuming it helped him cope in his roles. But his relationship with Cale never did recover pre-Jour's death because rifts and gaps formed during the distance. So, if there are already gaps and issues, do you think Cale would be comfortable bringing his concerns without being accused of destroying/delaying Deruth's happiness? If this is the case, shouldnt be the parent/adult be the one who gives reassurance, love and all those things that help them reconcile and their relationship grow? Or is it another burden for the child who has to hide his own authentic self because he already experienced being isolated and hurt from the person who is supposed to give him unconditional love?

2nd question - He wouldnt need to be a trash if his own father protected his new family over the status he inherited.

For the third question - Violan and her children are his stepfamily. Deruth chose them for himself - not for Cale. Stepfamily dynamics are complex and way more complicated vs bio/nuclear family. There are many issues but I would say that Cale cared for them because his father brought them in Cale's life. One argument (reflected in real life) is since they made Deruth happy, Cale should be happy that his father is happy because of them. In a morbid sense, it can implied that post-Jour, Cale wasnt able to give his father happiness or him being enough for Deruth to move on from grief (not that he is supposed to in the first place). In way, Cale deserves them than his father but his link to them is very weak. The Henituse is a classic high-functioning dysfunctional blended family.

I know many people hate the prefix of 'step' and 'half' - but in the 10yrs that this family has been doing, there has been no evidence they came together or act as one unit. It's always Cale or Deruth + Violan (& OFC Basen and Lily). Violan will side by her husband and take Deruth's lead (wrongly or rightly) because she did marry him (you dont marry children, I cant fathom why she did marry this man but I digress) and Basen and Lily would side with their parents. So, I dont think they are a family - they are people who live in the same place and trying to get along like roommates. Besides, it seems that Deruth + Cale isnt considered as a family in its own right.

Hope this satisfies your interest and ask away again if I left out something...

[darlingshane]

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 1

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Implied/referenced drug addiction, Alcohol mention, Divorce, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy. Undisclosed age gap (in my mind Michael is late 30s and OC is late 20s, but it's really up to your interpretation).

Word Count: 6.8k // 4 chapters // AO3 link.

A/N: This is set in the year of the Fishes episode on season 2. It starts in summer and slowly builds up to that Christmas.

— This was an anon request that I got a few months ago, I hope you're still around. I tried to fit all the ideas you sent as best I could. There's a bit of info dump on the first chapter, but I hope it isn't too off-putting.

Chapter 1: Best thing since sliced bread

Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes elongate into long hours on slow days like this at The Beef. Especially in summer when the air conditioner stops working for the second time in the middle of August. Any living soul that crosses that door must have a dying wish or be the devil themselves to adventure themselves to what has become Michael's personal hell.

It's been a testing year, and there's so much he can do to fix this place right now. While he waits for Fak to come check the damn AC unit, Michael tends the front while Ebra takes his lunch break.

Turning the paper's pages on the counter, he comes across an article about the extensive fires eating different parts of the country. A wretched thought crosses his mind as he reads – maybe it'd be better to burn this place to the ground and start over. He entertains the idea for a second until the door swings open, inviting more heat into the boiling pot.

He lifts his eyes from the words to find a familiar face approaching the counter. It's not Fak, but a much better vision of someone he used to know.

“Mayhem Maya.”

“Magic Mikey.”

That former thought of burning down this place disappears somewhere in the midst of that beautiful aura that saunters with her big brown eyes, long raven hair, nervous smile, and firm steps.

“It's been a while, Maybird.” Almost ten years since she set foot in this establishment. “What brings you to this hole in the wall?”

“Came to collect that meatball sub you promised at uncle Teddy's funeral, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Ever since she moved to a different state, he only had seen her a handful of times when she came back for the holidays. Last time he saw her was at the beginning of spring, when her uncle, Ted Silva, passed away.

“I also had an interview at the new vet clinic on the next block.” She places her cross-body bag on an empty stool while she perches her ass on the one next to it.

“How's that going? Did you get tired of California already?”

“No, I love California. But I needed a change of scenery. It's been rough after… you know…” the divorce. She wasn't married for long, but she still can't bring herself to say the word.

“I’ve heard some of it.” He’s pretty much aware of how everything went down. Well, he’s got grapevine’s juicy version of the story, but he never heard her side directly.

Though Michael and Maya know each other as if they were related, they were never close confidants. She always thought he was the coolest guy in Chicago. And he always thought fondly of her, given their families association, and Maya’s close friendship with his brother.

Michael places an order for her sandwich and grabs a soda for her, while she explains she has two more job interviews later.

“Does your mother know you're back?” He folds the paper and props his elbows on the counter.

“She probably does.”

“Still not talking, huh?”

“It's not my fault she made me the black sheep of the family. She’s like vitriol on steroids.”

“Yeah? What happened at the wake? You left before I could say goodbye.”

Michael recalls the tension at the funeral, particularly at the wake when Angela Silva grabbed Maya by the elbow and took her youngest daughter outside the house as if she was still a child that needed to be scolded.

“Nothing. I barely said a word that day. Guess everything I do feels like a personal attack to her. I can admit that I'm not perfect, and that sometimes I've acted up just to get a reaction out of her, but that day she just went off again…” She pauses without finishing that thought to take a refreshing sip of her coke. “And that wasn't nearly as bad as the day I told her I was getting…”

“Divorced? Why can't you say the word? It's not Voldemort.”

“What the hell do you know about Voldemort?”

“How do I… Who took you and Carmy to buy those damn books? Have you forgotten?” Maya shakes her head. “You even tried many times invoking his name, so I was haunted by eaters or something like that. You two were real potterheads.”

“And you were just a pothead,” she laughs, stirring the ice cubes in her drink with a straw. “I totally blocked that out. We were just a couple of nerds.”

“I’d say!”

“Meatball sub!” Richie calls from the pass-through window and takes a second look when catching Maya in the joint. “Maya Papaya?!”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She scoffs while Richie promptly abandons the kitchen and goes around the counter to give her a welcoming hug.

“Did you know she was coming?” He asks Michael, as he props his ass on the bar.

“Had no idea. She just showed up.”

“Did you tell her about Carmy?”

“What about him?”

“He’s in Copenhagen.”

“Oh, I knew about that.”

“You two talk often?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Barely more likely. They don't even text anymore. She's tried but there's been nothing but crickets at his end for months.

While Richie grills her about Carmy and what she’s been up to, Michael can’t help but look around the shop to notice, from every corner and wall, memories bouncing all at once in his direction. It takes him back in time to those days when she and Carmy were as thick as thieves.

Their shared history goes back to that same street their families have lived on for over thirty years… It’s still clear in his mind, like it was yesterday, when he was forced to babysit them when they wanted to go to the movies or trick-or-treating or the bookstore. That was a little annoying back then, now he fondly remembers all those times in summer, when they’d go to the convenience store to get ice pops on their bikes. Then they’d ride back and sit in the middle of the swanky rug in their living room and watch TV for hours. More than once they were yelled at by Mama Berzatto when she would come home to find melted colorful stains in the fabric. She would lose her shit. Carmy was used to it. Maya wasn’t, but the girl never flinched once cause Donna and her own mother were cut from the same unstable piece of cloth.

Maya and Carmy were really close up until they went separate ways for college. Their bond was something to admire. They had something so special that inevitably, Carmy fell in love with her. She was his best friend and confident. They kept each other's secrets, and Carmy thought she'd feel the same in return. It wasn't a crazy notion. They spent so much time together, everyone thought it'd lead to something more, but that never happened.

Mikey and Richie used to tease the youngest cub relentlessly. They tried multiple times to encourage him to ask her out, but he never found the guts to do it. Especially if it could potentially end their friendship. Carmy didn't want to lose that. Though he never confessed his feelings, Maya always knew. Even in her teens, call it a woman’s intuition, part of her already knew. Maya wished she'd felt the same toward him, but the heart wants what it wants, and she couldn't change that.

What was really fucked up was that she had the most ridiculous crush on the older Berzatto when she was a teen. While she knew he'd never look at her as anything other than Carmy's annoying little friend, that didn't stop her from daydreaming about it for years. It was a secret that no one ever knew and that was placed in a drawer at the back of her mind after she left Chicago.

After graduating, Maya and Carmy stayed in touch for a long time, until their calls and texts became less frequent. They followed different dreams that required a lot of attention and sadly their friendship got hurt in the process.

While she attended Vet School on the west coast, he became a chef on the east.

Maya thrived at school and work. She really went out on her own, and became the woman she always wanted to be. Unsheltered, confident, outspoken. She outgrew her shell and opened herself to new experiences and people. She loved it all. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but for the most part she was pretty happy with her choices.

And now she's back in Chicago, set on a new path and awaiting to see where it takes her.

She’s living in a house in Oak Park with her dog, Coco; Richie fishes out of her. Apparently, she got some money from uncle Teddy, and she’s invested it in a home for her and her beloved staffy.

“Does Carmy know you’re here?” Richie circles back.

“No, I haven't talked to him in months.”

“Why? Did you two have a fall-out or something?”

“There's no why. We're just busy.”

“Mike, help me out here. Weren’t these two fools supposed to get married?”

“Yeah, everyone thought you'd ended up together.”

“Man, I don't know what to tell you, we just didn't,” her head sinks between her shoulders.

“Just get over yourself and hit him up. The kid has been hung up on you since forever. It looks like things didn’t go so well with your marriage and all. You should take that as a sign, you’d never find anyone better than Carmy. The boy could really use some excitement in his life. And so could you.”

“C’mon, leave her alone. Go back to work, Cousin.”

Michael throws her a lifeline, noticing how miserable she looks every time Richie opens his unfiltered mouth.

“He’s not wrong, you know? You and Carmy… it looked like you two had something special.” Michael offers once Richie is back in the kitchen.

“It’s called friendship. You should look it up.” She points out.

“I have Richie.”

“Exactly. You have Richie. Why don't you two marry the other and leave me alone? If you think about it, you were as close to Richie as I was with Carmy. Even more. Should everyone assume you are in love with him? Cause that's what you're implying.”

“Touché. I'll drop it.”

“Look, as hard as it is to believe, there was nothing else between us. I was aware he felt something for me, but I didn’t feel the same.”

“You should give him a chance sometime. He might surprise you.”

It’s not the first time these two have been trying to play matchmaker between Maya and Carmy, and it’s bizarre to see they still do at any given opportunity.

“Okay, if I give Carmy a chance, you have to give Richie a chance. Those are the rules, Berzatto.”

“Oh, I've tried. He's not into me,” he remarks, amused, and leans closer to confess something in a lower voice. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Uh, sure.”

“He and Tiffany are having a baby. He just told me a few days ago.”

“What? You let him reproduce? I'll pray for Tiff.”

Chapter 2: Cool as a cucumber

Everything falls slowly into place as Maya settles back in Chicago. She secures the job at the clinic near The Beef, which is a huge relief after her rushed decision of moving back to her hometown without securing a job first. It was part of the plan all along to practice what she loves but never thought this would be the year. As much as she loved California, once her divorce was finalized she felt like something was trapping her there. And the money she got from her uncle gave her some leeway to improvise, get away from all that, and start over.

Maya is spending her morning going through the stack of unpacked boxes, finding a good place for everything, making it feel more homey. It's not a big house, but spacious enough for the two of them. The big selling point was the backyard for Coco to zoom around and cool down in her wading pool, which she loves. It didn't take long for the five-year-old pup to get used to her new neighborhood. They've even made a couple of friends at the park nearby.

A moment before the doorbell rings, Coco whines from her spot by the window, where she often sits to watch passers in the street.

“Who is it?” Maya playfully asks her dog as she makes her way to the front door.

Through the peephole, she sees Michael's profile as he inspects the porch.

“Hi,” her eyes widen as she opens the door. “Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I would've called, but I didn't get your number the other day.” But he got her address from Richie's intense questioning when she visited the shop.

“I knocked on two different houses until I got the right one,” he explains as Coco curiously circles around his feet, sniffing his pants, hitting his crotch with her nose in the process.

“No, Coco. Sit. How many times have we talked about no nut-tapping?” Maya glances at her with amusement as the dog sits on her haunches.

“It’s fine,” he snorts. “All dogs do that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But she’s not any other dog. I thought I had taught her better. So what brings you here?”

“This.” He offers the paper bag hanging in his hand. “It's just a little house-warming gift.”

“You didn't have to.” As she takes the bag from his hand she ushers him inside before closing the door.

“It's nothing, really.”

He glances around as Maya takes out the box from the bag.

“Wow, a set of knives? That's not nothing.”

“Everyone needs one good set of knives. But you can exchange them for something else if you want.”

“No. I like these. But I gotta warn you that I'm not much of a cook, and I'll probably use the same one for everything.”

“That's fine I can show you sometime though. Is she friendly? ” He points at the dog that keeps staring at him. “Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, she loves everyone. Go ahead.”

Michael cautiously pets the brown coat of her head as her floppy ears lower at the passing of his hand.

“Never pictured you with a pit bull.”

“Me neither. I always thought I'd be a cat lady. But I met her at this adoption drive when she was one, and she stole my heart.”

“I can see why.” Michael crouches down, and pets Coco with both hands. “She's really sweet.”

He lets her lick his chin a couple of times before standing back on his feet. Then they go on a tour around the house.

“It's still a work in progress. I'm thinking of painting a few walls, but we like it so far.”

“Yeah, it has good bones.”

“So you don't have to work today?” Asks Maya.

“No, we've had some trouble with the gas line, and we've been shut down for a couple of days.”

“That sucks. Now where am I going to get my sandwiches and coffee on my way to work?”

“Heard Starbucks is pretty good.”

“Shut up. Don't even joke about that.” She playfully shoves his shoulder as they go back to the living room.

“Are you doing something later?”

She shakes her head. “Why?”

“I don't know, thought you were having a comeback party or something.”

“I don't really have any friends here. And I don't feel like inviting my family yet. As you can see, I still have a lot to unpack.”

“Physically or mentally speaking?”

“Both,” she scoffs.

“Let's do something then? Just you and me. We could grab some pizza, or go out for a drink for old times’ sake?”

“Old times’ sake?” It's amusing, surprising and confusing his sudden interest in her. Maybe he can see how pathetic she thinks she is, and he's taking pity on her. Although, that was never Michael style.

“Yeah, c'mon, Mayhem. You look like you could use some fun.” He picks up a book that's sitting on top from the box opened by the couch that's titled — Dating Again with Courage and Confidence: The Five-Step Plan to Revitalize Your Love Life after Heartbreak, Breakup, or Divorce. “And maybe a rebound or something. You don't need a fucking help book. You only need me to show where to get the best guys, or girls. Whatever you're into.”

“Give me that. I don't need a rebound, a help book, or you for all matter finding me a date.”

“No? Then why do you have that?”

“My friend Paige thought I should give it a try.”

“Maybe she was onto something there.”

“I'm perfectly fine. Just want to finish organizing everything, focus on work and this handful I have right here.” Her hand gestures at Coco. “What are you so interested in my love life anyway? First you try to play matchmaker with Carmy, and now you want me to do what, exactly? Hook up with the first guy I see?”

“No, I'm just asking you to go out and have some fun. I know Carmy was the only friend you had here. And if I was in your shoes, I'd feel pretty lonely.”

“I'm not lonely, Michael. Do I miss my friends in Sacramento? Sure,” she admits. “But I don't wanna force anything. I'm just taking it slow. When the time comes I'll jump right in but for now, this is all I need. Really. Stop pitying me.”

“I'm not pitying you, sweetheart.”

“No? Then what is it? Where is this coming from?”

“I don't know… I've always thought you were the salt of the earth. And though we never really hung out together, I thought you could use… But I can see now that you're different, and that you know what you need right now, so I'll just shut up and back off. Let you do your thing.”

“Thank you. I do know what I'm doing, by the way. You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. But I appreciate you coming here anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. And I can help you unpack if you need.”

“Hm, if you don't have anything better to do, be my guest. We could grab a pizza later, if the offer still stands. Or just order some food.”

“Sure.”

Michael helps Maya unpack all the boxes and put everything in place in half the time it'd have taken her alone. They order some food for lunch and spend half the day talking and laughing until late in the afternoon when they decide to go out for some drinks to keep the good vibes going.

At the end of the night, she offers to drive Michael back to his apartment as a thank you for inviting her.

“Did you have fun?” Michael asks from the passenger seat as she pulls up in front of his building.

“Yeah, I did. I'm glad I changed my mind.”

“Me too. I didn't know you were this fun. You're nothing like I remember.”

“Yeah, I was kind of weird growing up. You guys probably thought there was something wrong with me. ”

“Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. We were all weird in our own way.”

“Uh-uh. No Michael Berzatto. You were the coolest guy back in the day, and you still are.”

“I don’t know about that,” he scoffs. “For the record… I never thought there was anything wrong with you.”

“You were probably the only one… Anyway, thank you for today. I know I said I didn't need this, but I guess I did.”

“You're welcome, Maybird. I'm glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Thanks for bringing me home,” he softly squeezes her arm before reaching for the handle to open the door.

“No problem.”

“You know you can call me if you ever miss your friends, y’know?” he throws casually.

“I uh…sure. I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoes back as he pulls the handle and the door opens.

“Have a good night, Michael,” she says as he gets one foot on the pavement.

“You, too, sweetheart.”

He closes the door and vaguely waves as she sets the car in motion and watches her drive away.

Chapter 3: Don't cry over spilled milk

In the few weeks he's been spending time with Maya, Michael has found himself enjoying her company more than he'd like to admit. Being with her grounds him. She makes him forget for a little while all that's wrong in his life. She's like a beacon in that immerse darkness that his sorry existence has become. Despite having her own set of problems, he's watched her rise above all that with poise. He wonders what it's her secret to her steadfast determination, even when her own family has disavowed her.

After closing shop, he dives into his stash to tame that brewing headache before driving to Oak Park to pay her a visit. She told him earlier via text that she was at Home Depot buying some paint to update the color of her bedroom and asked him to come over to hang out after work.

For some reason, he couldn't say no. Not even the storm in his head is strong enough to deny her request. He has a pull on him, tugging him hard like a dog tied to a leash in her hand, he can’t help but follow her lead.

When he arrives at her house, she's halfway done. Two of the walls shine bright new in a lavender tone as she starts working on the next one.

After having beer and playing a tug of war game with his new friend, Coco, Michael offers his help to finish painting the walls. He uses a brush to paint the corners, while she gracefully uses a roller like a pro with her denim overalls over a tank top, and her raven hair pulled up in a ponytail sprinkled with lavender paint beads. When she lifts one of her arms, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her rib cage, leveled to the roundness of her chest that looks like the outline of a dog paw.

“What are you looking at?” She asks after catching him staring.

“You have paint on your chin.”

“Oh.” She wipes it with the back of her hand, but she just spreads the stain along her jaw. “I made it worse, didn't I?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs it off and continues with the task ahead until the whole wall is covered.

“Is everything okay, Bear?” Maya puts down the paint roller. “You're quieter than usual.”

“Yeah, everything's alright.” It sounds so honest, he almost believes it. “It's just been a long day.”

“I'm sorry that I put you to work.”

“Don't be. This is relaxing.”

“Yeah?” She takes a step back and surveys how much brighter her bedroom looks already after covering most of the former downcast grey. “Is the color right? Do you think it's too girlish?”

Giving the room a once over he says, “it's a good shade. I dig it. It doesn't matter what I think or if it's too girlish, as long as you like it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She dips the roller on the tray to cover another section of the wall.

“You never told me what happened at the funeral with your mom,” Michael leans on the stepladder, taking a short break.

“Do you really wanna know?” She glances over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Everyone does. I’ve heard some crazy stories about it. Thought I should get it straight from the source.”

“I never pegged you for a gossip girl.”

“I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”

She mockingly narrows her eyes, drawing a lopsided smirk, “liar.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. But yeah, can’t help being a little curious about it.”

“I don’t mind telling you, but it won’t be as entertaining as those crazy stories people have made up.”

“I’m not here for entertainment. I just wanna hear your side of the story, Maybird.”

Maya lets out a heavy sigh and while keeping her focus on the wall she shares with him what really happened. She’s right to say that is not the best story she’s ever told, though when it comes to her mother, all her stories tend to have a surreal element even she can’t fathom sometimes.

That day at the funeral, she was taken outside during the wake by Angela Silva to get scolded about her imminent divorce. It wasn’t finalized by then, and her mom invoked one last Hail Mary to convince her to stay with her husband, who was also currently dating someone else. It was a messy situation that Maya couldn't wait to get out of, and the fact that her mother never offered an ounce of support wasn’t surprising, but still devastating. Somehow, Angela found that the reason for her separation from her husband was that Maya didn’t want to have kids, and that really vexed Angela. All she wanted for her three kids was to follow the same traditional path Angela was forced into, no matter how miserable she was. Her two older sisters followed her mother’s narrowed traditional values. But Maya, ever-the-nonconformist, swore she would never follow anyone’s drum beat but her own. Her husband thought she’d change her mind eventually. He was wrong. She knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which led her here, to this moment.

“Is your mom ever happy?” Michael has always wondered.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happy, except when she’s drunk. That’s why she has to make everyone else miserable.”

“Yeah, but she’s always had a fixation on making you miserable.”

“Like I said, every family needs a black sheep, and I’m it.”

“Is that why you became a vet?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, it's true, you don’t wanna have kids? I’m not judging. I’m just curious.”

“I honestly don't know. I just knew that when he told me he wanted to have a baby right away, it didn’t feel right. I said that maybe in six or seven years I’d be okay with it. Told him I wanted to travel and just be us for a while, and he said that was too long to wait. I don’t know… he stopped talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn’t changing his mind, and I wasn’t changing my mind, so. At some point I got tired of trying… He got a girlfriend as soon as I filed for divorce and I got a text from Paige the other day that said he got her already pregnant, like… that was never me. I guess it served me right… I married him on a whim, an impulse without really talking about what we wanted…”

“Hey, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You dodged a bullet there.”

“You really think that?.”

“Yeah, I do. You stood up for yourself and knew when to step back when it didn’t feel right. Not everyone has the balls to do that. Think how miserable you’d be by now if you had tried to please him or your mom. You seem happy now. That's what matters.” He means that with all his heart, and wishes he had the same drive to follow those same steps. As much as he loved the restaurant, he chose to run it to please people within his family. And that love turned into a nightmare he couldn't escape.

“You know… I liked you better when you were quiet,” she quips.

Michael huffs a soft laugh, picking up his brush to resume painting.

When the room is finished, she plugs a couple of fans and closes the door to keep Coco away.

Maya washes her hands and face in the bathroom sink. When she comes out, she catches the motion of Michael's arm as he shoves what looks like a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water from one of her glasses.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache,” looking down, he runs a palm over his short growing beard.

“Is it the fumes?”

“No, I had it before coming here.”

“Michael,” she sighs softly at his name. “You should've told me. I wouldn't have let you help if I knew.”

“Would you stop that? I wanted to help.”

“Okay, c'mere. Let's sit down.”

“No, I think I should get going.”

“Nonsense. I'm not going to let you drive until you feel better.”

He yields with a long exhale, and follows Maya into the living room, where her bed is settled askew in the middle of the space.

She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and waits for him to sit next to her.

“Give me your hand,” she shows her palm up, as his eyes narrow. “C'mon, don't be a baby, give me your hand, Berzatto.”

“When did you become so bossy?” He slowly lifts his hand and as he lays it on top of her palm, his fingers tremble upon contact with her skin. Maya then uses her opposite hand to clip the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers with her own and begins massaging that spot.

“My friend Sierra is really into acupressure. She says this is a pressure point that helps with headaches.” She explains while slowly increasing the force. “Does it hurt?”

“Not one bit. Is that like acupuncture?” His voice comes as a whisper as he focuses on her diligent fingers.

“Kinda. I think. I’m not really sure.”

“You don't have to fix me, you know?”

“I'm not trying to fix you, Bear. I just wanna make you feel better.”

“Admit it. You just love a good wounded animal.”

She smiles softly, placing his hand down on his knee and picking up the other. “Does it feel any different?”

He’s not really sure, it wasn’t truly a headache that led them to take that pill but the annoying rambling of his thoughts. She shouldn’t have seen that. And he shouldn’t have lied. But having her hands on his like this is straight up lovely. Inside of him, it truly feels like something is broken, wounded, and missing, and this is giving him a sliver of relief as he waits for the pill to kick in. If he was a better man, he’d tell her the truth. But he’s too far gone for saving. All he can do is keep that facade up.

“Does it?” She insists after not getting an answer.

“A little.”

“Do you wanna lay down?”

Swallowing, he responds with a nod, and they both lean back on the mattress at the same time. Looking at the ceiling, she keeps kneading that pressure point, unsure if she’s even doing it right.

They stay in comfortable silence for a good five minutes and when she finally places his hand down, Maya glances to the side and sees that his eyes have closed, and his chest gently rising and falling. She calls his name softly, but she can see that behind the sharp edges of his face and the ever-growing shade of his beard, he’s truly exhausted, so she doesn’t insist. She extends her hand to turn off the lamp, and curls on the other side of the bed without disturbing his sleep.

“Good night,” she says softly and closes her eyes.

From a dusty corner of her mind comes crawling that little forgotten part that used to harbor a lot of feelings for Michael. Though a few weeks ago he seemed practically the same Michael she knew, over the past month she’s keenly noticed little changes here and there. His eyes sometimes cast a dark shade tainted in nothing but sadness, it’s barely noticeable for other people. It comes and goes, but it tells her he’s not truly as happy as he pretends to be.

Michael wakes up disoriented at the crack of dawn.

It takes him a few seconds to remember he’s still in Mayas’ bed in the middle of her living room and that the weight that has his arm pinned is her body pressed against his. She’s warmly snuggled on his side, with her arms tucked between his chest and hers, and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face. She’s so awfully close, he can smell the scent of her hair, and feel the heat of her breath every time she exhales.

It's such an odd moment for him to have her that close. He's unsure of whether it would be better to slip out of bed unnoticed before she wakes up, or just stay there and watch her sleep for a bit longer. Either option would make him look like a creep, he thinks. So he opts to gently wake her up. His free hand reaches to his forehead to move a stand of hair away. Her brow scrunches as his light-feather touch grazes her skin. His lips curve up as he traces the shell of her ear to see her stir awake. She blinks slowly a couple of times until her focus shifts onto him.

“Hey, Maybird.”

“Hey.” Her lips move, it's barely audible.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” His fingers absentmindedly massage her earlobe.

She's so stunned by waking up to that level of intimacy, she simply nods, as her mouth softly draws a smile.

“It's fine. Does your head feel better?”

“Much better. That pressure thing really worked.”

“I'm glad.”

“Listen, I gotta go open. Maybe we could do something later?”

“Okay,” she swallows nervously, hoping that waking up with him like this isn't just a dream. “Can you do me a favor first?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stay five more minutes?”

“I uh… I think I can,” against his better judgment, he decides he can stay for a few minutes more holding her.

The way her lips pull up timidly at the corners, revealing the dimples framing her mouth, completely disarms him. He’s always felt a certain affinity towards her, but being this close to her awakes a longing within that feels dangerous. He can’t bring someone new into his life. Not while everything around him is falling apart. It’s already hard enough having to pretend around other people.

He couldn’t do that to her. He won’t.

Michael will have to fight harder because when her arm tucks around his waist he can’t help but press his lips against her forehead.

Chapter 4: Hard nut to crack

Four months later…

After that initial moment of weakness when he fell asleep on her bed, he fought hard to elude that odd longing that has only grown into a big mass of love toward Maya. To anyone else in the world, a feeling as big as that would be a blessing, especially when it's reciprocated. To Michael, it's a weakness he can't afford right now.

Spending all that time with Maya has been like discovering a whole new planet Michael never thought existed. She's all vast, uncharted territory that fazes him more than it should. Despite his best efforts, he’s fallen into her alluring orbit and can’t find the way out into his own universe.

Far gone is that moody teenager that would mumble a few words here and there. And now there's this tragically stunning woman that looks you directly in the eye, says anything that crosses her mind, and laughs without a care in the world.

Though falling in love with her wouldn’t be completely wrong, it's not quite right either. It fills him with guilt to think about her in that manner. Moreover, it feels like a betrayal to Carmy, who’s far away in a different continent, prospering in his craft.

Michael tries to fool himself into believing that this is just temporary infatuation. He’s even attempted several times to convince her to get in touch with Carmy but hasn’t succeeded. It’d be easier for him if she were to put her focus on someone else instead of him. He has nothing to offer to her and has deemed himself unworthy of her, or anyone for that matter. If she only knew what’s really going on with him, she wouldn’t want Michael nearly as she believes she does.

Layer by layer, she’s tearing all his walls and defenses down. And after all the back and forth, he's absolutely sure she wants more than he can offer her. She’s been giving him the right signals. She doesn't shy away from it. Maya is direct and impulsive, and everything about her is fascinating and intimidating.

It’s time to either cut her loose, or accept that he’s madly in love with her and do something about it.

Amidst coming to terms with a final decision, he's lured into a surprise party she's organized for his birthday.

Michael is left speechless by her determination. And a little annoyed too for reasons he can't explain. To be honest, he’s never been a fan of surprise parties, but the main problem is that this would make things much harder for him to let her down easily. She’s carved herself into his life and the longer he drags this out, the worse this is going to hurt.

He’s aware that it’s selfish and obtuse of him for being that ungrateful that someone who cares that profoundly about him, that they would go all out to prove that. He feels like an asshole, but the train has already left the station.

Using the same tiring self-defense mechanism, he draws his best smile and brings out the Michael everyone seems to love. Not without help. There's always that crutch tucked in his wallet in the form of a pill. Being high numbs him enough to deal with the situation.

The cherry on top comes at the end of the night, when he walks her up to her car and asks if he's had a good time. He lies through his teeth and for the first time, he can tell Maya is not buying it. Perhaps she never did, but he's well-versed on her tells by now, and he can clearly see she's fed up with all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth.

“Look, it's not that I didn't like the party. It's just that I hate surprises, and I was exhausted today. But it was a nice thought, sweetheart. I just… I wasn't in the right mood.” It's seemingly convincing the second time around, but her face shows nothing but regret. “I love the jacket you bought me, though.”

Michael has never been interested in fashion, but he's always loved vintage jackets, and the one she picked it's a perfect addition to his collection. It's a bomber jacket, aviator style, in brown leather with a couple of patches and fur collar.

As they reach Maya's car, they come to a stop. She turns to him, “I know I can be a little too much sometimes. But I promise no more surprises from now on.”

“You and I both know, you won’t be able to keep that promise even if your life depended on it. That's part of what makes you– you, sweetheart. Don’t let my bad mood ruin that.”

“I’ll try.”

After a beat, without hesitation she leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on his bearded cheek and on a whim, she decides to press a second one on his lips.

It takes him completely aback. He wants to dive so badly into her mouth, but he freezes on the spot. And when Maya attempts to deepen the kiss, he finally reacts by placing a placating hand on her shoulder as he pulls his head back.

“I'm… I'm sorry we can't do this, Maya.”

“Wait, I thought… Did I misread something?”

“No, you didn’t misread anything. I just can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“I can't.”

“You can't or don’t want to?”

“Guess I don’t want to.”

“Can you at least tell me why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” He wants to spill out the old – it's not you, it's me – excuse, but he refrains. Every thought and action go against every good instinct he's ever had. He hates himself for making her feel insecure. And yet, he can't backtrack now.

“Stop calling me sweetheart. You see how misleading that is?”

“Sorry. I think I gave you the wrong impression.”

Her eyes narrow, and he can see the gears turning for a long moment before opening her mouth.

“I don't think you gave me the wrong impression, Michael. I think you're too chickenshit to admit that there's something between us and, for whatever reason, you're just taking the coward's way out. You've been weird the whole night, especially with me. I just threw a party just for you, the least you can do is tell me why.”

“I didn't ask you to do that. And I don't owe telling you shit! I was trying to let you go easy, but nothing is ever easy with you. So I'll just say it. This, you and me, is never going to happen.”

It sounds ridiculous as it comes out of his mouth, but he stands firm on that statement as her heart breaks in front of him.

In the end, it'd be better for her, he believes.