#i took a few months of break and now play like once a week

[agentstarkid]

TENGO UN CORAZÓN QUE ESTÁ PERDIENDO LA CABEZA ✦ DR3

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.7K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: yearning, angst, tenderness, fondness, found family (I guess?), 2-year-old menace, spanish and portuguese are spoken, complicated feelings, Daniel interacting with a toddler—hormones and uterus could experience feelings a lil bit (mine did ngl).

✦ MAY'S RADIO: Two chapters in less than a month? Who am I?? 🤭 All I gotta say is that Iza is my MVP because she took matters into her own (tiny) hands! It was so much fun writing her personality, I based her on my niece who's a mini tornado herself 😆 Also, a few weeks ago I made moodboards and headcanons for The Girls™, gonna leave the links below if you wanna know them even more <3. Anyways, I'm excited for this chapter!!! Hope you guys like it 💛

Part of The Joker & The Queen series | Set at the end of Revenant.

Divider by: cafekitsune

Meet: Fiorella | Vittoria | Danna

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Little traitor.

The thought repeats in your head like a mantra as you glance at the 35-inch whirlwind currently glued to Daniel’s leg. Iza’s bright giggles echo through the room, and her tiny hands clutch his shorts like he’s her favorite person in the world—which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth. She’s always been attached to her godfather. But today? Today, she seems to be on a mission to play matchmaker in her two-year-old way, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between her chosen victims.

Ever since your flight landed a little over four hours ago, it’s been one emotional ambush after another, all orchestrated by Miss Izabele Abigail Sousa-Allen. She decided you wouldn’t have a moment of peace during your visit, dragging you and Daniel into joint tea parties, coloring sessions, and even a very competitive game of hide-and-seek where she demanded you both hide together. 

(How could you say no to her when she looked at you with her little frown and pouty lips, tiny arms crossed demanding you to do what she wanted? It was adorable and scary at the same time—have you experienced the wrath of a 2-years-old? Definitely not recommended.)

And now, as she tugged on Daniel’s hand and yours simultaneously, her intentions became crystal clear.

“Again!” she demanded, her big brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “All three!”

Vitto, hovering nearby, let out a resigned sigh. “Iza, maybe Tia and Tio need a break—”

“No break!” she interrupted, stomping her little foot for emphasis. Like previously said, her determination was adorable and terrifying all at once. “Together!”

You catched Vitto’s apologetic glance as she scooped Iza up in her arms, trying to wrangle her away. “Bebê, let’s give them some space, okay? Maybe they need a little break to rest," Vitto said with a gentle smile, trying to redirect Iza’s enthusiasm.

Iza frowned, her little brows furrowing as she processed her mom’s words. “But they do nothing,” she said earnestly, her tone filled with the simple logic only a child could muster.

You stifled a laugh, pressing your lips together as Daniel scratched the back of his neck, clearly at a loss for words.

“Well,” Vitto tried again, shifting tactics, “grown-ups get tired faster, bebê. Why don’t you let them rest while we do something fun? Like bake your birthday cake?”

Iza’s face lit up at the mention of cake. “pinkles?” she asked, her tone suddenly bright and hopeful.

“Of course,” Andrew chimed in from the doorway, already rolling up his sleeves. “All the sprinkles you want, my little love.”

That was all it took. Iza squealed in delight, her earlier mission forgotten as she wiggled free from Vitto’s arms, her tiny feet pattering across the floor. Her and Andrew followed closely behind—with the Brazilian in the rearguard, who sent you a look over her shoulder letting you know she was sorry—leaving you and Daniel alone in the living room once again.

Where the hell was everyone else in this house? 

‘We’ll make sure it’s all smooth for you’ yeah, sure.

(A house full of traitors.)

The silence that settled felt heavy, the absence of Iza’s chatter amplifying the slight tension between you. You shifted awkwardly, biting the inner skin of your cheek, unsure whether to laugh or bolt.

“She’s persistent,” Daniel finally said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded, crossing your arms in a feeble attempt to shield yourself. “She gets it from Vitto.”

“She’s also got great timing,” Daniel said with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “She always knows how to make things… interesting.”

Daniel nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “She’s grown a lot. It’s hard to believe she’s already two.”

“Almost two,” you corrected, glancing toward the kitchen where laughter and the clatter of mixing bowls filled the air. “Feels like just yesterday she was a tiny little human. Uh, I mean she’s still tiny but-” you rushed to clarify. (Why? the fuck if you knew. Great, if this is how the whole week is gonna turn out as then you were in for the time of your life—Take a deep breath, don’t let it get to you.) “you know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on you now instead of the kitchen. “Time flies.”

You met his eyes briefly, but the weight of his stare was too much. You looked away, pretending to adjust a cushion on the couch. “Well, she’s definitely keeping us on our toes.”

“That’s Iza for you,” he said with a small smile, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—nostalgia, maybe? Were you reading too much into it? most likely.

Before you could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Iza’s giggles and Andrew’s exasperated, “Iza, baby, no! Not the whole bag of sprinkles!”

You both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension between you. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—before everything got complicated. But just as quickly, reality crept back in, and the apparent unshakeable tension hung heavily in the air once more.

You cleared your throat, straightening up as if that would physically distance you from the awkwardness. “Well,” you began, your voice deliberately light, “I should probably go and take a shower before the little hurricane comes back and ropes us into another game. Or something worse.” you said quickly, glancing toward the hallway. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” 

You turned before he could respond, hoping to escape whatever this was. His quiet laugh followed you as you reached the doorframe.

Your name was voiced and you paused, your hand resting on the doorframe. For a second, you debated pretending you didn’t hear him, but curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you. 

You turned to face him, your expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words, his usual confidence replaced with something more. “I just… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you managed a small smile. “Me too,” you said softly, though whether it was entirely true, you weren’t sure.

As you walked down the hall, the distant sound of Iza’s giggles were a welcome distraction. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else, the weight of those four words followed you, their meaning tugging at a part of you you weren’t ready to face yet.

You wandered through the halls of the mediterranean-style house fresh out of the shower, focused on typing frantically in the groupchat, when the hallway ended abruptly—well, not ended, more like it got obstructed making you drop your phone in the process.

“Sorry, sorry,” you heard followed by a chuckle, “didn’t see ya.”

You looked up to the talking wall just to find a radiant smile and crinkled eyes staring back at you. “Oh, no, no, it was my fault,” you rushed to say, bending down to pick up the phone, “should’ve paid more attention.” 

For a moment, you didn’t move—your eyes locked on the inked skin that entered your sight as he reached for the mobile, too. The number 3 on his pinkie, the treble clef on his wrist, and the veins running down his hand, tracing a path up his forearm and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It was stupid how familiar they were, how easily they could pull you back into memories you weren’t ready to relive.

(or that you shouldn’t relive, for that matter.)

Daniel noticed. Of course, he did.

When you lifted your eyes and met his stare fixed already on you, you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your face. But instead of a cocky grin, as you expected, his expression softened, and for a moment his eyes roamed your face as if he was studying and memorizing it before he cleared his throat.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, almost hesitant.

You blinked, forcing yourself out of whatever moment you had just fallen into. “Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your phone a little tighter. “Just… distracted.”

He nodded, not pushing, though his eyes lingered on you for a second longer. “Guess I should’ve been watching where I was going too,” he admitted, stepping back to give you space. “Didn’t mean to, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward where you had collided “—block your way.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him, brushing a hand through your damp hair. “this your room?” you pointed to the door he just came out of. (Geez, why would you even ask him that?.)

“Huh? oh.” he chuckled softly, a hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck. “Yeah, yeah. It’s uh- It’s been my unofficial room since they moved here”

“Oh, nice.” you nodded, and an awkward silence fell over the two. Why was it so awkward to have a conversation when a month ago at the wedding you guys got to have a normal one?—admittedly it wasn’t a walk in the park, but it wasn’t as painfully awkward as now.  “Well, I should go find Fio and Danna, see what they’re up to. Apparently, they were checking out the new fruit stand on the next block,” you added, playfully rolling your eyes.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Yeah. They've been out for a while. Probably causing trouble. Bet Danna’s already made friends with the owner.”

“Probably,” you agreed with a smirk. “And Fio’s probably negotiating the price of fruits like it’s a business deal.”

Daniel’s lips twitched into a fond smile. “Some things never change.”

You nodded back, offering a quick smile before you both turned the corner, your heart drumming a little too loudly in your chest.

Damn it.

Neither of you said anything as you made your way toward the living room, where the little hurricane stood in front of the TV, mesmerized by a colorful kid’s show about a farmer and his animals. Andrew was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily typing on his phone, and from the kitchen, bursts of feminine laughter spilled into the space.

At the sound of your footsteps, Andy looked up, his eyes flickering between you and Daniel in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. Then, as if deciding not to comment, he simply nodded toward the kitchen. “Girls are in there,” he said.

You didn’t need to be told twice. “Thanks,” you muttered, seizing the chance to slip away while Daniel moved to take a seat next to him.

Iza, still planted in front of the TV, was now dressed in pink pajamas, her hair styled into two tiny space buns, and—most curiously—a backpack with a cute cow face strapped onto her shoulders.

(Apparently, she had decided, out of the blue, that pajamas were the outfit of choice for the evening.) 

Daniel leaned back against the couch, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as he took in Iza’s new look. “Nice fit, princess,” he mused, watching as she clutched absentmindedly the straps of her tiny backpack with little hands.

Iza, without turning away from the TV, rocked back and forth on her heels to the rhythm of the kid’s song before finally glancing over at them. “Pajamas,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if that alone explained everything.

Andrew snorted, setting his phone down. “She threw a whole speech about why she needed to wear them now. Something about the cow backpack and how they match.”

Daniel hummed, nodding solemnly. “Well, can’t argue with that logic.”

Iza gave him a satisfied look before shifting her attention fully to them. Her big brown eyes flickered between the two men, her little mind clearly working through something. Then, with all the dramatic energy a nearly-two-year-old could muster, she clapped her hands together and ran, throwing her little body face down over the space between them. “Okay.”

Daniel and Andrew exchanged a glance. “Okay… what, baby?” Andy asked warily, rubbing her back.

She pointed at them, then at the TV. “You watch Bluey now.”

Daniel chuckled, raising a brow at Andrew. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”

Andrew sighed, rubbing his face. “Nope. None at all.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, watching as Fio animatedly recounted their fruit stand adventure with Danna to Vitto.

“—and then I told the guy, ‘No way you’re selling those mangoes for that price.’ I mean, I respect a hustle, but come on. You can get better and bigger ones for half that back home in PR,” Fio huffed, shaking her head as she dramatically recounted the story.

Danna shook her head, laughing. “You’re actually insufferable.”

“You’re welcome,” Fio shot back with a grin before noticing you. “Ah, there she is. Survived your little playdate?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Barely.”

Vitto, ever observant, arched a brow. “Daniel still being… Daniel?”

You hesitated, not really sure how to answer that. “He’s… I don’t know. He’s different. But also, not? It’s weird.”

Fio furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes. “Weird how?”

“Chill, Rambo, no need to kill anyone.” A short, humored laugh escaped you as you sat on one of the counter stools. You exhaled, crossing your arms. “Like… he’s trying. But not in a way that makes it obvious. It’s subtle, like he wants to be careful.”

Danna raised an eyebrow. “Careful because of you or careful because of Rúben?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure you had the answer.

The weight of Danna’s question settled between you all, unspoken yet heavy. You busied yourself by reaching for a slice of mango from the bowl on the counter, chewing thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice quieter. “Maybe both.”

Fio watched you closely, then sighed. “That man still loves you.”

You shot her a look. “Fio—”

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” She gestured vaguely around the kitchen, earning a few exchanged glances from Vitto and Danna. “You’re over here acting like it’s some great mystery when it’s not.”

Danna, ever the voice of reason, leaned on the counter. “Okay, but does it even matter? He had his chance. And you moved on.”

Moved on. Right.

You nodded, as if agreeing, but something about those words settled uncomfortably in your chest.

Vitto, sensing the shift in your mood, quickly changed the subject. “Alright, enough about that. Let’s talk about something that doesn’t involve a walking emotional landmine.” She smirked. “Like what we’re doing for Iza’s birthday.”

Grateful for the out, you straightened. “Please tell me we’re not doing another ‘Iza commands us all’ day like the last Día de los Niños.”

Danna groaned. “God, no. I’m still recovering from the endless rounds of hide and seek.”

Fio grinned. “Joke’s on you, I actually enjoyed that.”

Laughter filled the kitchen as the conversation shifted to party planning, decorations, and the ridiculous number of snacks Iza had requested. For a moment, the tension from earlier faded into the background.

But even as you laughed along, the thought lingered in your mind—Daniel was being careful. With you. With himself. With whatever was left between you.

And you weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

Suddenly, the sound of tiny, determined footsteps filled the kitchen, and in the next second, Iza came barreling in, running straight to Vitto’s legs. She clung to her mother, her little arms wrapping around as much as she could reach.

“Mamãe, uppie!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes and her little arms reaching towards her.

Vitto chuckled, effortlessly scooping her up. “You’re getting too big, meu amor,” she teased, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

Iza, completely ignoring the comment, turned her attention to the counter, where the bowl of mangoes sat. She stretched her tiny arms toward it, fingers wiggling with determination. “Quero!”

“What do we say when we want something, Izabele?” Vitto pulled her away from the counter, giving her the mom look.

“Pweeeeeeeease” she said, tilting her head with doe eyes and a big, innocent smile.

Danna, being the closest, plucked a slice from the bowl and held it out. “Here you go, honey.”

Iza’s eyes lit up, “Fank yoo!” She eagerly grabbed the mango, taking a big bite. Juice instantly dribbled down her chin, but she was too busy enjoying the fruit to care.

Vitto shook her head fondly, grabbing a napkin to dab at her daughter’s face. “Ai, Iza…”

Fio watched the scene with amusement before nudging Iza’s little foot. “Alright, troublemaker, what’s the plan for your big day? What does the birthday girl want to do?”

Iza, still chewing, blinked at them before swallowing dramatically. She then grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “O aquário!”

Danna and Fio exchanged a look, while you looked at the little hurricane fondly.

“The aquarium?” Vitto clarified, adjusting Iza on her hip.

Iza nodded enthusiastically. “Sim! Fishies!”

Fio smirked, leaning toward you. “Guess we’re hanging out with fish.”

You laughed softly, brushing a few stray curls from Iza’s forehead. “Better than another hide-and-seek marathon.” Then, tilting your head at the little girl's mom, you added, “By the way, her bilingual skills are getting really good. At this rate, I think she expresses herself better in Portuguese than in English.”

Vitto let out a laugh, bouncing Iza lightly in her arms. “She might, yeah.” A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. “I may or may not encourage her to speak more Portuguese when Andy isn’t around.”

Fio gasped dramatically. “You’re sabotaging your own baby daddy?”

Danna smirked. “No wonder she sounds like a tiny Brazilian grandma sometimes.”

Vitto shrugged, unbothered. “It’s funny. Especially when she talks to him in full Portuguese, and he just stares at her like she’s casting a spell.”

You burst out laughing at the mental image. “Please tell me you have videos.”

Vitto smirked. “Obviously.”

Just then, Iza pointed a tiny finger at her mom’s face. “Mamãe, peixe!” she demanded, reminding them of her plans.

Vitto sighed dramatically, adjusting Iza on her hip. “Alright, xuxú, how about this—we go to the aquarium after your birthday party? That way, we have the whole day to see all the fish. Sound good?”

Iza blinked, processing the deal.

“In the meantime,” Vitto continued smoothly, “we can go on a little adventure today.”

Iza’s interest visibly piqued, her tiny eyebrows raising. “’Ventura?”

“Yes, an adventure!” Vitto nodded, playing into the excitement. “We need to go to the market and find all the special ingredients for Mamãe’s coxinhas. And maybe… just maybe… there are some big, juicy mangoes waiting for you there.”

At the mention of mangoes, Iza lit up like a firework. “Manga?!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Fio and Danna. The kid was officially sold.

“Yes, manga,” Vitto confirmed, grinning. “But first, you need to go change out of your pajamas, okay?”

Before Vitto could even set her down, Iza was already wiggling to be put on the floor. The moment her feet touched the ground, she bolted out of the kitchen. “Papai! Unkie Nanel! ’Ventura!”

You all watched her disappear, her little voice echoing down the hall.

Vitto shook her head with a soft chuckle. “They better not put her in something ridiculous.”

“Oh, they absolutely will,” Danna deadpanned.

A few minutes later, Iza came sprinting back into the kitchen—now fully dressed head to toe in custom-made Enchanté apparel, a tiny washed-red cap, a crisp white shirt, and green shorts that gave her the appearance of a little explorer. Her curls peeked out from under the cap, her big eyes shining with excitement as she spread her arms wide, striking a dramatic pose.

And you couldn't lie—she looked adorable.

“I be Unkie Nanel!” She declared proudly.

And right behind her, sauntering in with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen, was Daniel. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was watching Iza with a fondness that made something shift in your chest.

“Oh my God,” Fio wheezed. “You turned her into a walking billboard.”

Daniel, utterly unbothered, crouched down next to Iza and tapped her tiny cap. “Gotta start ‘em young,” he said with a smirk.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You look way cooler than Uncle Daniel, bubba.”

Daniel placed a dramatic hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me, Iza, are you just gonna let her disrespect us like that?”

Iza giggled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as if she actually understood the teasing.

You should’ve looked away, walked off, said something sarcastic to break the moment. But you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze lingered.

Watching him with her—how effortlessly he fit into this role, how natural it was for him to give Iza his full attention, how she adored him in return—made something ache deep inside you.

You hated it.

(And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t.)

Andrew, who had been observing the whole scene from the counter where he was slicing some fruit, finally spoke up.

“She does look cooler than you, mate,” he teased Daniel with a smirk, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. “Might have to start calling her ‘Little Nanel’ from now on.”

Iza gasped excitedly. “Litto Nanel!” she repeated, absolutely thrilled with the new nickname.

Daniel shot Andrew a playful glare. “Thanks for that, Andy. Really appreciate it.”

Andrew shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying, man, she pulls off the look better than you ever did.”

Before Daniel could retaliate, Danna, who had been watching the interaction with a knowing smile, suddenly perked up. “Wait, where’s Blake? He’s usually attached to your hip like an overgrown koala.”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “He had a stopover in Miami to visit a friend. His flight got delayed, so he’s getting here later today.”

Fio let out a dramatic sigh. “So, what I’m hearing is that we won’t have our favorite Aussie for the first half of the day? Tragic.”

Daniel scoffed, playing along. “Wow. Love the support, guys.”

Andrew patted his shoulder. “You know you’re only third favorite, right?”

Daniel rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth to his smile that made it hard to tease him too much. “Wait. Who’s the second?” he tilted his head and frowned.

“Scotty.” was answered in unison.

Daniel let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own people.”

Andrew smirked. “Hey, man, Scotty’s just got that wholesome golden retriever energy. And he can do some cool tricks in the snow. Hard to compete.”

Fio nodded. “Yeah, and you? You’re more like…” she trailed off, pretending to think.

“A chaotic raccoon,” Danna finished with a grin.

Daniel gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “A raccoon? I’m the Honey Badger.”

Fio snorted. “Nah, you’re definitely more raccoon-coded.”

As they continued to joke around, you tried to distract yourself from the way your stomach flipped watching Daniel interact with your people once again—specially the toddler.

Vitto sighed with a fond smile on her face, pressing a kiss to Iza’s forehead. “Alright, Unkie Nanel Jr., let’s go get those mangoes.” She turned back to you all. “C’mon everybody, let’s get moving before this one decides she’s in charge of the whole itinerary.”

“She already is,” Danna muttered, grabbing her drink.

“Facts,” Fio agreed, grabbing her keys.

He had always been good with kids—that was nothing new. But something about seeing him with Iza, the way he knelt down when she tugged at his shorts, how he patiently listened when she babbled about some cartoon you didn’t recognize, the way he let her climb onto his lap without hesitation—it made conflicting feelings bloom in your chest.

And it was messing with you.

You shook your head, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

The morning was spent wandering around Ojai, stopping by vibrant farmer’s markets where stalls overflowed with fresh produce, handcrafted trinkets, and the scent of sizzling food. Iza sat happily on Andrew’s shoulders, pointing at different fruits and flowers, her tiny fingers reaching out excitedly every time she spotted something new. She made sure everyone took turns holding her hand as they walked, but most often, she sought out you and Daniel.

When you decided that the park was the next destination, the little hurricane was unstoppable. She ran from one end to the other, determined to get every single one of you involved in her games. It started with a simple game of tag, where she would giggle uncontrollably as Andrew pretended to be a big scary monster chasing after her, only to collapse dramatically whenever she tagged him back.

But the moment she spotted a couple of older kids being swung between their parents’ hands, her attention shifted entirely. She ran straight to you and Daniel, grabbing each of your hands in hers.

“I go high! Up, up!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes.

Daniel chuckled, exchanging a glance with you. “You ready for this?”

You exhaled, forcing a small smile. “Let’s do it.”

And so, with a countdown, the two of you lifted her off the ground, swinging her between you as she shrieked with joy. Again and again, she begged for “Mo’ mo’ mo’, pwease!,” her little legs kicking in the air each time she went up.

Fio snapped a picture at one point, sending you a knowing look that you chose to ignore.

Between the laughter, the bright sun, and the easy moments, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Like things weren’t complicated.

Almost.

But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much you tried to push it back.

As the morning stretched into the early afternoon, the group found themselves sprawled out on the grass, taking a much-needed break from Iza’s endless energy. She sat cross-legged in the middle, happily munching on a piece of mango Vitto had bought from the market.

Andrew was leaning back on his elbows, sunglasses on, looking every bit like a dad on his day off. “I swear, I don’t know where she gets this energy from. It’s like she recharges by the second.”

“She’s literally your child,” Danna pointed out, sipping from her Iced Matcha Latte.

Vitto snorted. “No, she’s my child. That’s why she’s like this.”

Daniel, who was lying on his side next to Iza, propped himself up on an elbow. “I dunno, she might just be an evolution of both of you. Maximum chaos unlocked.”

Danna hummed, tilting her head as she watched Iza try to feed her uncle what was left of her slice, and Daniel pretended to eat her hand making her squeal and giggle. “You know, if she’s maximum chaos, I can’t even imagine what your kids would be like, Danny.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Andrew snorted. “Oh man. They’d be little menaces. Just picture a tiny Ricciardo running around, making dumb jokes, riding dirt bikes, getting into trouble, grinning through it all.”

Daniel let out a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The moment the word kids left Danna’s mouth, his gaze flickered—almost instinctively—to you.

It was quick, but you caught it.

Because how could you not?

You swallowed and forced a chuckle, keeping your expression neutral as you turned your attention back to Iza, who was now attempting to balance a mango slice on her nose. “Lord have mercy on their mom,” you said with a dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

Daniel let out a breathy laugh, but there was something behind it—something wistful. “Yeah?” he shot back, tilting his head at you. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, trying to guess which way this was going to go.  “Guess she’d have to be someone really special to handle all that chaos.”

His words were playful, but the weight behind them was impossible to ignore. There was something charged in the way he said it—like he wasn’t just talking about some hypothetical her. Like maybe, just maybe, he still pictured you in that role.

Your grip tightened slightly on your cup of fresh juice, but before you could find a response, Fio cut in with a teasing grin. “Special or completely insane.”

The group laughed, the moment breaking, but the way Daniel was still looking at you—like he was thinking of all the things left unsaid—lingered.

A bitter feeling bloomed in your chest before you could stop it. You didn’t even mean for it to happen, but the name was already forming in your mind.

You hated that it still got to you. That, even after all this time, it could still stir something ugly in the pit of your stomach. You had no right to feel this way, not when you were with someone else—not when you were supposed to have moved on.

You should have let the moment go but the words left your lips before you could think twice. “Poor Heidi.”

Daniel didn’t react right away. He just looked at you, a flicker of something crossing his face—understanding, maybe. Amusement. Or maybe it was just all in your head.

Then he smiled, small and almost... resigned. “Not really.”

You blinked, taken aback.

“She, uh—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We broke up.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh,” was all you could manage.

Silence.

The kind that stretched too long, felt too loud despite the lack of words.

You felt it the second the shift happened, a wave rolling through the group as everyone collectively processed what he had just said.

Daniel and Heidi were over.

(You tried to suppress the blooming feeling of elation at the news.) 

Everyone knew what that would've meant before. Before everything changed. Before Rúben.

You didn’t look at anyone, but you felt the weight of their stares. Danna, Fio, Vitto—your best friends—all processing the same realization, all probably having the same conflicting thoughts, all silently worrying about you.

You kept your expression carefully neutral, forcing a small shrug. “Sorry.”

Daniel just hummed in response.

And yet, in the heavy silence that followed, you could hear everything neither of you dared to say.

You exhaled, focusing on Iza instead. The little girl, who was still buzzing with excitement, had stood up, and was a few paces away from the group twirling in circles before dramatically collapsing onto the ground with a giggle.

Daniel stretched out next to you now that the toddler wasn't occupying the place in between you both, propping himself up on his elbows as well. There was still something unreadable in his demeanor, like his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Fio, never one to let things go unsaid for too long, gave Daniel a sideways glance. “And what about you?” she asked casually, but there was something deliberate in the way she posed the question. “Now that you’re single again, what’s next?”

Your stomach twisted.

Daniel, to his credit, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, he exhaled a soft laugh, his eyes flickering over to you for a fraction of a second before settling back on the sky. “Don’t know,” he admitted, voice easy but thoughtful. “Taking my time, I guess.”

Vitto nudged him with her foot. “Taking your time? Since when do you take your time with things?”

Another soft chuckle. “Since now,” he replied, gaze still focused on the clouds drifting above. Then, almost absentmindedly, “Some things are worth waiting for.”

The weight of those words settled over you like a storm cloud, dark and full of unspoken meaning.

You swallowed, feeling Fio’s and Danna’s subtle but pointed glances.

Desperate for an out, you sat up and dusted your hands on your jean shorts. “Alright, break’s over,” you announced, your voice forced-cheerful. “Who’s ready to get Iza home before she finds another way to make us run after her?”

“She’s going to be knocked out after this,” Andrew muttered, adjusting his cap over his eyes, “Which, honestly? Won't be the worst thing.”

The group slowly followed your lead, rising to their feet, the conversation left hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence.

Daniel stood last, brushing stray grass from his shorts. His eyes met yours for the briefest moment—warm, unreadable, patient.

And just like that, you had the overwhelming feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

Not even close.

As the group started walking, Fio fell into step beside you, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Todo bien?” she asked, voice low.

You hesitated before giving her a short nod. “Síp.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Her eyes flickered toward Daniel—who was holding the toddler across his arms pretending she was a plane, her bright giggles making you look at them fondly—then back to you. “Just… ten cuidado, okay?”

You knew what she meant, and the worst part was, you didn’t have an answer.

The house was buzzing with a different kind of energy now that Blake had arrived, his laughter blending into the easy hum of conversation. The sun was starting to dip below the trees, casting the living room in golden light as everyone settled in after our long day out.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, nursing a glass of iced coffee as you half-listened to Andrew and Blake trading stories. Sitting on a loveseat across the table, Fio had her eyes on you, sharp and knowing, waiting for the right moment to strike. She’d seen how you had been expertly avoiding Daniel all afternoon, your movements purposefully, your gaze never lingering too long in his direction. 

But she knew you. She knew you well enough to quickly recognize when something was brewing beneath the surface.

So the moment she was waiting for to strike came when Daniel entered the room, towel slung over his shoulder from a post-run shower, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. He glanced her way briefly, offering a small nod before moving toward the men on the right side of the L-shaped sectional couch. 

As soon as you noticed your ex in the room, your shoulders tensed and you quickly grabbed your phone to pretend to be interested in whatever gossip was trending on Twitter. And that was all it took for Fio to make her move.

“Acompáñame,” Fio muttered, grabbing your arm and dragging you up from the couch before you could protest. Vitto, who was leaving the kitchen just on time to witness the whole moment, followed closely behind, recognizing the brewing intervention. You barely made it to the hallway before Fio turned on you with a look that could burn holes through steel.

“Mami, what the hell is going on?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

You feigned innocence, which only made Fio roll her eyes. “Nada, Fio. Why?”

“Oh, don’t even start with that bullshit,” Fio shot back. “You’ve been weird ever since we came back. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you tensed up when lo pendejo de Daniel walked in just now.”

“Fio,” Vitto interjected, her tone softer but no less firm. “We just want to know how you’re feeling.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down your face. You knew this moment was inevitable, but you weren't ready to unpack it. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” you said, too quickly.

Fio let out a sharp laugh. “Liar. Try again.”

Vitto nudged your shoulder gently. “You’ve been avoiding him all day, even when he’s been trying to be... I don’t know, civil? Different?”

Different. That was exactly it. Daniel was different. More patient, more thoughtful. He still had that stupid, easygoing charm, but there was something else beneath it now—something more deliberate. And it made everything ten times harder.

You groaned, leaning against the wall. “It’s just—he’s here, freshly single apparently. And it’s messing with my head, okay?”

Fio softened just a fraction, but her stance was unwavering. “Be honest—do you still love him?”

The question hit you like a freight train, your breath catching in your throat.

Vitto reached for your hand. “It’s okay if you do, fofinha. We just want you to be honest with yourself.”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your linked hands. You could feel the truth clawing at your chest, but admitting it out loud felt too dangerous. Too real. So instead, you whispered, “I love Rúben.”

Neither of them doubted that you did. But love wasn’t simple, and you all knew it.

Fio sighed, rubbing her temples. “Mira, all I’m saying is—if this is hurting you, you need to face it. You can’t keep pushing it down.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

Vitto squeezed your hand before stepping back. “Come on, let’s get back before they start thinking we killed you or something.”

You let out a tired chuckle.

You three made your way back, and you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. Because for the first time in a long time, you weren't sure if you could keep running from this.

As you stepped back into the living room, the warmth of conversation and soft laughter wrapped around you like a protective shield. Blake was animatedly recounting some ridiculous story, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures while Andrew cackled beside him. The scene was so effortlessly lighthearted that, for a brief moment, you almost let yourself slip back into the comfort of it.

Almost.

Daniel was still there.

Still real.

Still encompassing all your senses.

But before you could settle back into your spot on the couch, Vitto’s hand closed gently around your wrist. “Wanna help me finish dinner?,” she asked, her voice light, but you knew her well enough to recognize the intention behind it.

She was giving you an out. A way to escape the tension still lingering in the air.

You nodded quickly, too relieved to question it. “Sure.”

Fio gave you a knowing look but didn’t go with you as you followed Vitto into the kitchen. The warmth of the living room buzzed behind you, but as soon as you stepped into the quieter space, you let out a slow breath.

Vitto had already started making Coxinhas earlier, the smell of seasoned chicken filling the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves and handed you a piece of dough without saying anything at first, letting the act of cooking settle you.

You worked in silence for a few minutes, shaping the dough into small teardrop shapes while Vitto did the same beside you. The rhythmic motion was soothing, giving your hands something to do while your thoughts settled.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“You okay?”

You sighed, focusing on the dough in your hands. “I don’t know.”

Vitto hummed in understanding. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yeah.”

She set a finished Coxinha onto the tray and turned to you, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “I know today’s been a lot. And I know spending time with him again after everything is… complicated.”

You swallowed hard. “It’s not just that. He’s different.”

Vitto nodded, as if she had noticed it too. “People change.”

“But does it matter?” You met her eyes, your own filled with uncertainty. “Even if he’s changed, it doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t change how much it hurt.”

Vitto placed a gentle hand on your arm. “No, it doesn’t. And no one is saying you have to forgive him or even let him back in. But, fofinha, you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the dough. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Vitto gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Remember: One step at a time.”

The words brought back a memory from a night that seemed a lifetime ago, in this same house, but under different circumstances. “You’re strong,” she had whispered as she rocked you gently, as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into her words, into the quiet comfort of her presence. The noise from the living room felt distant, like something happening in another world.

And for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

Vitto suddenly perked up. “You know what we need? Some music.” She didn’t wait for your answer before speaking again. “Alexa play ‘Caraluna’ by Bacilos”

The robotic voice answered back and the unmistakable opening chords of one of your favorite songs filled the kitchen. One she knew put you in a good mood. A grin spread across her face as she turned to you, already swaying to the beat.

¿Quién dice que no duelen las huellas en la arena?

Tu huella el mar se la llevó, pero la luna sigue ahí.

Pero esa luna es mi condena.

(You couldn't help but internally chuckle at the irony of the song’s lyrics and your current predicament.)

“You have to dance with me,” she insisted, holding out her hands. “Come on, you know you want to.”

You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Vitto…”

“No excuses!” she cut in, grabbing your hands and pulling you toward her. “Let loose, fofinha!”

And against all odds, you did.

Laughter bubbled up as she spun you, her energy infectious. The rhythm took over, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in your chest loosened. You sang along, carefree, as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a long-forgotten embrace.

Yo seguiré buscando o seguiré escapando

Tal vez de ti, tal vez de mí

Before you knew it, the kitchen had turned into a makeshift dance floor, the scent of freshly made coxinhas mixing with the warm nostalgia of song after song.

And then, as if called by the rhythm—because it was in her blood, after all—Iza came toddling into the kitchen. Just woken up from her afternoon nap, her curly hair bounced as she moved, her big brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you and her mother dancing.

“Titi! Mamãe!” she squealed, her tiny feet already moving to the beat in her adorable, uncoordinated way. She wiggled her hips, her little arms waving in the air as she giggled.

Vitto gasped dramatically. “Look at her go! We have a future bailarina in the house!”

You laughed, reaching for Iza’s hands to twirl her around, her delighted laughter filling the room. You had spent months in this house after your breakup, healing, learning to breathe again, and in those months, you and Vitto had passed down a piece of your own childhood to Iza.

Disney Channel songs had been the soundtrack of your teenage years,—Camp Rock, High School Musical, Cheetah Girls, you name it—and now they were becoming hers. She knew them all by heart, but her ultimate favorite? Hoedown Throwdown by Hannah Montana.

So it was no surprise when, as soon as the last notes of ‘Batida de Coco’ played, she gasped dramatically and clapped her hands. “Hodan Trowdawn!” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Vitto smirked. “You heard Boss Baby.”

You sighed, already knowing there was no getting out of this one. “Alexa, play Hoedown Throwdown by Miley Cyrus.”

The second the upbeat intro started, Iza shrieked in excitement, already trying (and failing) to follow the choreography you and Vitto had taught her. You joined in, going through the familiar moves, laughing when Iza tried to stomp her tiny foot with exaggerated determination.

What you didn’t notice, however, was that the ruckus had drawn the attention of the others.

One by one, the voices from the living room started trickling into the kitchen. First Andrew, then Blake, then Fio and Danna, all grinning at the sight of you, Vitto, and Iza in the middle of a full-on Hoedown Throwdown performance.

And then, leaning against the doorway, towel still draped over his shoulder from his earlier shower, stood Daniel.

But he wasn’t just watching the dance—he was watching you.

There was something different in his gaze, something softer, something more intense. He watched as you twirled Iza around, your laughter blending with hers in a way that made his chest tighten. He had always known you were good with kids, but seeing you like this—with Iza, with your guard completely down, with that effortless, nurturing ease—it did something to him.

Something dangerous.

But you were too busy living in the moment to notice.

Fio and Danna wasted no time jumping in.

“This is our moment,” Fio announced dramatically, flipping her hair as she slid into position before the song went back to the chorus.

Danna laughed. “You mean, this is Titi and Mamãe’s moment, and we’re just background dancers.”

But still, the second the chorus hit, the four of you fell into sync like it was second nature. Muscle memory kicked in, and suddenly, it was like you were back in your childhood bedrooms, practicing in front of TVs, convinced you’d someday perform this choreography on a real stage.

Iza squealed in delight, trying her best to keep up, even though her little feet didn’t quite move the way she wanted them to. But she had the spirit, and that was all that mattered.

Andrew leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, shaking his head with amusement. Blake had his phone out, definitely recording what was happening. And somewhere in the back, laughing along with them, was Daniel.

And yet, his gaze kept coming back to you.

Something about this scene—it was overwhelming in the best way. Nostalgic. Warm. Effortless. You were so yourself in this moment, dancing like no one was watching, letting Iza twirl between you and Fio, her giggles filling the air like music.

You were happy.

And it hit him, all at once.

God, he had missed this. He had missed you.

He barely registered when the song ended, when the room erupted into applause and Iza immediately yelled, “Again! Again!”

You caught your breath, shaking your head with a laugh. “Iza, amor, your Tías need a break, or we won’t survive dinner.”

Fio wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I don’t have the stamina I had at 14, mi amor.”

Vitto chuckled, scooping Iza into her arms. “Okay, bailarina, let’s give them a minute.”

As the moment settled, the energy in the room slowly shifted, you finally looked up—only to find Daniel watching you.

And unlike before, when you had done your best to avoid his eyes, this time… you held his gaze.

And your lips turned up into a soft smile.

[ecoplasma]

Dunno if you still play genshin but your c6 wanderer moment is approaching

Friend, I am indeed prepared.

[genderkoolaid]

In Los Angeles, one of the queerest cities in the United States, there are surprisingly few spaces where trans masculine individuals can find solidarity and community. For some, trying to fit into queer spaces after transitioning can be an isolating experience once they start to pass as men. “In general, people can’t necessarily look at me and know that I’m trans,” says Devyn Payne, jumping rope outside to warm up ahead of his match. It’s now different for him to enter LGBTQ+ rooms where lesbians might read him as a straight man or gay men might not recognize him as trans. “Passing as a Black man, my experience has been different in sapphic spaces ... I don’t necessarily feel welcomed [anymore].” The 27-year-old used to wrestle competitively in high school, but three years after coming out as trans he is now rediscovering his joy in the sport and reconnecting with the queer community in a different way — tonight by wrestling another trans man in a neon green jock strap under the alter ego “T-Payne.”

“Before I went to my first Trans Dudes of LA event, I had no trans men friends,” Payne says. “I can’t necessarily relate to [cisgender men]. So it’s great to have people who I can talk about the changes of being on testosterone.” [...] In this room full of transgender people, the weight of a gender binary disappears. Masculinity becomes play material, a performance to bend and break. People dressed for the part exude “Brokeback Mountain” homo-eroticism, another pair act out a construction worker role-play in a BDSM scene in which a plastic hammer is shoved in the mouth. Cal Dobbs, dressed for the part as a judge for the tournament, wears a white wig reminiscent of the founding fathers and a thong under his black robes. (“RBG, classic sex symbol,” Dobbs explained of his costume inspiration from the late Supreme Court Justice.) “Trans men and trans masculine people are redefining masculinity,” says the 27-year-old, who was the first trans person to run across the transcontinental United States. “[Wrestling] is a hyper masculine sport, [but the competitors] bring an element of humor and romance and cuteness to it that makes everyone feel really comfy and safe.” [...] In the weeks leading up to the big performance, Elías Naranjo and Arón Sánchez-Vidal had practiced their wrestling routine weekly for a month, familiarizing themselves with consent and boundaries to make sure they wouldn’t hurt each other. “I was asking them, ‘Is it OK if we kiss? Is it OK if I pick you up and grind on you?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah, I’m open to it,’ ” says Naranjo. But on the spot the two also decided to improvise as Sánchez-Vidal took his testosterone shot on the wrestling mat — a moment met with thunderous applause. The two entered the ring waving Mexican and Peruvian flags dressed as vaqueros. “EL VAQUERO... STR8 4 PAY?” read a sign that Sánchez-Vidal’s girlfriend had made to cheer on her partner. “There’s so much in being brown and trans and queer,” says Naranjo. “We want to show up and take up space ... we’re Peruvian, hot and trans.” The two won best partners, splitting a $150 cash prize at the end of the tournament. Inclusiveness was on the forefront of co-organizers Miller and Bandrowski’s minds as they planned this event. They prepped over 200 hot dogs to feed their hungry fans, a hot and heavy playlist to rally their attendees, and hired ASL interpreters to make the event accessible for deaf members of the queer community. This was their biggest event yet.

[hausofwoo]

graphic | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x afab reader

word count: 6.6K

summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡

working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.

you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.

on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.

you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.

the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.

so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.

sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?

you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.

you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.

the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?

you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.

you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.

after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”

“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.

“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”

“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”

“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”

“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.

mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.

“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.

“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”

“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”

“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”

“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”

“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”

“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.

“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.

“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”

“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”

“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”

“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”

he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.

for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?

you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.

you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.

you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.

“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”

you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.

he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”

he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.

“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”

“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”

“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.

“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.

“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.

“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”

you smile and accept it.

your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.

you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.

like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.

“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.

“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”

“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.

“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”

“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.

“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“you didn’t have to do that—”

“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”

you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.

“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.

“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.

“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”

“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”

you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.

sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin

you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.

sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it

you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.

the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.

“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”

“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”

“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”

“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”

“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”

“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”

“i will.”

the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.

it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.

he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.

after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.

you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.

you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”

mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”

you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.

he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”

“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.

you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.

after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.

“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.

“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”

“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”

“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.

“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.

“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”

he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”

you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.

there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.

you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.

you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.

you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.

it’s you.

the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.

it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.

“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”

mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.

“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”

“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”

“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”

“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course i like it,” you say.

“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.

“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”

mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”

mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.

a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.

“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.

he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.

he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.

his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—

“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.

you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.

“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”

he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.

suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.

he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.

you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—

“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.

he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.

he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.

he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—

“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—

“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.

his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.

“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.

you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.

“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.

it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.

“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”

“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”

all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.

his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—

“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”

“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”

he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.

he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—

“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.

“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”

he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.

he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.

his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.

he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—

“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.

he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.

and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.

“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.

he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.

“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.

“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”

“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.

“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.

“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.

“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.

a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

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[piastappies]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 END OF THE DAY ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. lando norris x reader

summary. being a supportive girlfriend during an awfully stressful time is hard, so when reader and lando ends up fighting, neither of them is surprised. however, she can’t help but be in love with him at the end of the day.

notes. pretty short and not proofread 😕😕

YOU WERE WALKING ON EGGSHELLS FOR THE PAST two weeks around your boyfriend. he was thrown into contention for the title mid-season and as the last race weekend of the season was getting excruciatingly closer, lando’s mood was dropping drastically. you understood it, not in the way that you were in the same situation as him, but frustration, pressure and disappointment weren’t strangers to you. you could see that your boyfriend was gradually becoming a ticking bomb, yet unsure when will his breaking point happen.

as it turned out, it happened on a second day after he got back from brazil. it was a silly argument that escalated to a major fight, resulting in you, driving back to your apartment in ventimiglia to give the brit his required space.

it wasn’t ideal, coming home, you hardly stepped a foot into your apartment, when lando was in monaco as you usually stayed at his place to get as much of him as possible in the — usually — short period of time. norris, unbeknownst to you, immediately felt terrible just as he watched you left. guilt creeped up his spine, yet he made no effort to stop you, knowing that he needed some space to get ahold of himself. no title could make him fill the void if he lost you.

so, after a few days of radio silence from one another, you were starting to feel like you were losing the precious time you had with lando. the clip from max fewtrell’s stream with your boyfriend there, saying that he’s eating food that sat in his fridge for more than six months or staying awake for 26 hours, has found its way into your twitter feed. it made you worry restlessly.

thirty or so minutes later, while lando was still playing some game with max and a few of their friends, you let yourself into his apartment and started rummaging through his to find all those expired items and threw them out, already making an order for new groceries. as much petty as you could be sometimes, you didn’t want your boyfriend to end up with food poisoning, it was kind of oscar’s thing now.

cleaning his fridge took you fifteen minutes at most, considering that you threw up a huge portion of its content. it was just then, when you decided to put on your big girl pants and face him. you made him some tea with lemon and honey, before quietly tapping him on the shoulder.

“jesus christ!” he shrieked, causing you to giggle. “mate, i think i’m having some sorta proper hallucinations.” your boyfriend spoke into his headset, not believing the sight in front of him — not believing that he was seeing you. you could’ve easily picked up the guys taking a piss out of him, which made you laugh even harder.

“you need sleep, lad.” “yeah, you sound like a maniac.” “that’s the expired meat speaking.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, lads. i’ll take care of him.” you moved closer to the microphone to let the guys know that everything’s taken care of, fully aware that max, your boyfriend’s best friend, would get concerned.

“i’m super sorry.” lando spoke softly, once you left the discord call. his arms snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against him — almost as if he had really missed you. “i love you so much, please don’t break up with me.” he added. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back the chuckle upon not only hearing his words, but also upon seeing his childish-like expression.

you managed to escape his embrace, dropping your hand into his, while trying to drag him back into his room for a nap. it wasn’t a hard task with lando trailing right behind you until you sat him down at the edge of the bed.

“i’m not mad at you, baby.” you reassured him in a gentle tone. your hand caressing his cheek. “i still love you, okay? but you gotta go to bed, lando. we’ll talk later, alright?” you tried to coax him into listening to you and you’ve succeeded.

WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND WOKE UP A FEW HOURS later, he thought that your presence in his apartment was just a dream. having pushed himself off the bed, he walked to the kitchen to finish off his expired chicken. that’s when he found you lounging on the couch, while eating something that smelled incredibly well.

yup, he must’ve been hallucinating.

with that in mind, he didn’t even approach you, trying not to feed into his delusions. if his mates knew that he started seeing his girlfriend after eating something that spent a few months in his fridge, they would never let him live it down. he furrowed his brows at the sight of a pan full of carbonara that he had no recollection of making — maybe he should go see a doctor?

lando sighed in relief after having taken a sniff of the dish, realising that somehow it’s not gone bad. how did it ended up in his place? no idea.

“bloody hell, no more eating expired food. i’m seeing stuff.” the brit muttered, rubbing his face in slight frustration. upon hearing his quiet mutter, you let out a small chuckle, tilting your head to the side in amusement.

“lando, you know i’m real, right?” you mused, a small smile creeping up on your lips. your boyfriend’s forehead creased in confusion. god, he seemed so out of it. “as in, i came here this afternoon, you’re not seeing stuff.” your words were coated with hilarity as you gave him a look.

lando was bewildered. twenty six hours of sleep weren’t that much, how did he forget that you got to his apartment and, apparently, talked to him? his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he put the plate down on the coffee table and sat next to you.

“i, uh, wanted to call.” he spoke, his head hanging a bit lower. “t’was unnecessary, my outburst, i mean.” a sigh escaped his lips. he was slowly beginning to look like a sad, kicked puppy.

“it was super unnecessary.” you agreed, running a hand through his hand in a slow motion. “we can’t really go back in time, can we?” he shook his head at your words, taking your hand in his hair as an invitation, so he moved closer to you, his arm sneaking around your waist.

“but you still love me?”

“yes, lando. i still love you.” you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“good, i would probably kill myself, uh, or die without you.”

[leahwllmsn]

toxic till the end

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 3.3k

tw: toxic relationships

You and Alexia are bad news for each other, but you don’t want anyone else.

It’s another day after yet another fight. You already know what’s going to happen next—it’s a routine so ingrained in your life that there’s no room for uncertainty. Alexia will show up at your door, begging for forgiveness, and you will welcome her with open arms. 

This time though, you tell yourself it’s going to be different. You’re going to put a stop to this whole thing.

You’re letting go of Alexia for good.

It’s been years of back and forth and you’re tired. 

You’re on your couch, clutching your phone, battling with yourself about being the first one to text. To break the routine you and Alexia have perfected means breaking this cycle once and for all.

I meant what I said last night. it’s over. we’re done.

Alexia’s response comes not a minute later. How fast she responds gives you more satisfaction than you admit. Her response however… It left an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

A: if that is what you want

No, that’s not what you want at all. But it’s what you need. For your sanity.

I want you out of my life. goodbye, ale

—

You met Alexia through a mutual friend. You liked to go out to clubs and bars, something to get your mind off the stress at work. It was a wonder that you hadn’t met Alexia sooner, but you later realized it must be her job as a football superstar that prevented her from partying every week like you.

When Alexia came up to you, her chin held high, a smirk permanently etched on her face, you knew she was nothing but trouble. It was the way she presented herself, so full of herself—as if she could get anything she wanted, that got you hooked. You loved a confident woman, and Alexia was the most confident woman on earth.

“Hola.” Alexia was the first to greet you, observing you with a curious look. You took her outstretched hand, and you couldn’t help but appreciate how… strong her grip was. Yeah. 

“Hi.”

“I’m Alexia,” she gave you a smile, one that girls must fawn over. Before you could respond, she continued, “And you must be… the prettiest girl in this room.”

Your immediate response was to roll your eyes, but your heart was a mess. You couldn’t believe that something so corny had your cheeks blush a deep shade of red.

“Got anything better than that?” you replied calmly, taking a sip of your drink to hide the way your lips wanted to form a smile.

Alexia hummed in thought, leaning closer to you until her mouth was inches away from your ear. You could smell her perfume now—it was something from Le Labo, the woody one that people liked so much.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘u’ and ‘i’ together.”

It was so bad that it genuinely worked on you. You let out a laugh so loud, ten pairs of eyes turned in your direction. But you didn’t care because Alexia was looking at you with that glimmer in her eyes.

You couldn’t have known what was to come.

—

Despite your wariness about Alexia, you gave her a chance. You gave her multiple chances.

A few months in and you were inseparable. 

The most shocking thing about Alexia was that she was the most loyal person ever. You thought that she was, well, a playgirl. It was the stereotype that came with being a footballer and how charming she was—she could get anyone she wanted.

But all she wanted was you.

It was a huge boost to your ego, you must admit.

Maybe that was why you decided to test the waters. To see whether Alexia really loved you or she was just playing you.

(Looking back, you realized you were the one who started this whole game.)

You didn’t watch football, you had zero interest in it. Alexia loved that she got to be the one to introduce football to you.

So when you begged Alexia to let you meet her teammates, claiming you found a new interest on the team, she was surprised. 

The first thing you did in that locker room was introduce yourself to Patri. Sexy, funny, tattooed Patri, who flirted back the moment you bat your eyelashes at her. To you, it was exhilarating the way Alexia grabbed your wrist and pushed you to the nearest storage closet.

Maybe that was why you loved to push her buttons so much. 

But that wasn’t to say that Alexia didn’t do the same. She was so much more intense, you learned. Maybe even borderline toxic, but you didn’t think too much about it.

You hadn’t been partying every week like you usually would, spending each night with Alexia instead, living in that lovesick bubble. But one night you were bored, and you wanted to go. Alexia had a game tomorrow so you knew she would be staying at home.

“Where are you going, amor?”

You saw Alexia’s reflection in the mirror as you were putting on the final touches of your make-up. You were wearing a dress so tight that it left no room for imagination. “I’m going to Manuelas, baby.”

“What? No, you are not.” Alexia stated. 

You turned around and gave her a questioning look. “I am? Can’t you see that I’m ready?”

“Well, I do not want you to go,” Alexia crossed her arms over her chest, a frown on her face. “Especially with that dress.”

You rolled your eyes at her, scoffing. “I think I can do whatever I want, Ale. I’m going out.”

“So you are just going to leave me here alone? I need you tonight, amor.”

The way her tone changed almost gave you whiplash. She was no longer commanding; she was pleading, her voice trembled as if you leaving to a club would be the worst thing to ever happen to her.

“Please, cariño?” 

You knew the moment she gave you her best puppy-dog eyes, your resolve was crumbling. You’d agree to whatever she wanted, just like always.

“You can come with me,” you suggested, although you knew she couldn’t.

“You know I have a game tomorrow.” Alexia stepped closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing gentle kisses along your exposed neck. “Let’s have a night in. I’m going to give you a better night than your friends could anyway, you know that.”

So you stayed.

You didn’t care when it happened again the week after, letting Alexia undress you was much better than any nightclubs anyway.

When your friends complained that they hadn’t seen you in so long, you made an effort to meet up with them for lunch, but that was cut short when Alexia called and demanded you to come home because she was done with training.

Alexia was possessive, you knew that. You didn’t need your friends to hold an ‘intervention’ for you because they thought Alexia was getting too much.

You loved her possessive attitude. So much so that you intentionally flirted with waitresses and strangers just to see her jealous streak.

You didn’t think anything could break your relationship. You loved each other.

One day, Alexia went too far and you got proven wrong.

You were tired from work, and you wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep. Alexia had other plans. She was wearing a suit, her hair slicked back in a neat ponytail. She looked good. 

“Where are you going, Ale?”

“Oh, hey, mi amor,” Alexia pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling back when you wanted more. Alexia always made you feel better. “I’m going to be late. I have dinner with old friends.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Alexia never mentioned any dinner with old friends. “Who?”

“Just… some friends I haven’t met in a long time.” You let her go without any more questions because you were seconds away from falling asleep.

When you woke up and found Alexia asleep on the couch instead, you thought nothing of it, going through with your morning routine. When Alexia stretched lazily, flashing you a smile, you returned it without a second thought. But then you caught the lipstick stain on her white collar, a lipstick shade that you would never wear… That was when you started screaming at her.

“I can’t believe you!” “What did I do?”

“What did you do?” You pointed towards the red stain on her collar. “Do you think I’m blind? Stupid? Both?!”

“Oh no no, amor,” Alexia immediately stood up, hands raised defensively as she faced you. “This is not what it looks like. You are misunderstanding!”

“You’re crazy, Alexia. Who’s fucking lipstick is that?!”

“No one’s! You are being paranoid.”

“Stop lying to me!”

“Amor, I would never lie to you, you know that,” Alexia huffed. She had the nerve to shake her in disappointment. “In fact, I am insulted that you think I would do such a thing!”

“Oh yeah? How’s this!” You unclasped the necklace Alexia got you as a gift and threw it at her face. “Fuck you!”

“Amor! That hurts!”

“Fucking cheater!”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me!”

The amount of anger coursing through your veins was a new feeling. You let out a shout before stomping your way out of the apartment. You looked back at your girlfriend, still with that stupid, glaring red stain on her shirt. “I never want to see your face again, Alexia!”

You slammed the front door and left.

That was the start of the cycle.

—

Alexia showed up at your apartment the next day, flowers in hand, eyes swollen from when she cried too much—a rare sight for her. You felt your heart soften at the sight.

“Hola,” Alexia rasped out. “Can I come in?”

Against your better judgement you let her in. You allowed her to explain her side of things, how she claimed that yes, her ex kissed her, but Alexia didn’t return the gesture. You didn’t entirely believe her but you pulled her into your arms anyway.

Alexia repeated how sorry she was over and over again, she told you that she loved you, and she would never intentionally hurt you. 

“I know, Ale,” you kissed the top of her head, your voice softer now compared to the shouts yesterday. Alexia was laying on top of you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck—usually you would be the one in Alexia’s arms, this change felt nice too.

“Do you still love me?”

You didn’t hesitate when you replied. “More than anything.”

Alexia promised that there wouldn’t be anymore fights after that. You didn’t really believe her, and you didn’t think she believed herself either, but you agreed nonetheless.

It was true, you and Alexia went back to the honeymoon phase and didn’t fight at all.

The calm lasted for a few weeks. Barcelona won something, you couldn’t remember, but it was huge. So it called for a celebration.

Alexia, being the captain, was busy being the center of attention. She loved it when people worshipped her, you knew that, so you let her be. You were alone at the bar when someone approached you, offering to buy you a drink. It was Jana—you remembered her from before you met Alexia, through mutual friends. She was definitely your type, but she was five years younger than you and that put you off.

“You do know I’m dating your captain,” you spoke directly in her ear, the music making it harder to hear.

“I’m just being friendly,” Jana shrugged, although the glint in her eyes revealed otherwise.

You took the drink she offered and stayed close to her—too close, because the next thing you knew Alexia was in front of you, a dangerous smile on her lips.

“We are going home.”

“It’s early!” you laughed, passing your drink to your girlfriend. “Have some fun, Ale. Don’t be so uptight.”

Jana giggled and Alexia’s frown deepened. You turned towards the younger brunette and grabbed her arms. “Jana and I are going to dance!”

You left Alexia speechless as you made your way to the dance floor. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, but all you did was something innocent. There was nothing conspicuous about dancing with a friend. You didn’t kiss her like Alexia kissed someone else.

You didn’t even last five minutes, before Alexia dragged you away and forced you into her car.

You pouted at her the whole ride home. “You are being so ridiculous, Alexia. I was just dancing with a friend.”

“No, you were slutting it up with a friend. There is a difference.”

You were so offended by her words that you demanded she pull over and let you out.

“I am not doing that.”

“Pull over.”

“No.”

“Alexia, pull over or I’ll open this car door and step right into oncoming traffic.”

“Estás loca!” Alexia granted your wish and you were met with the cold, night air as you stepped out of her car. “How are you going to get home now?”

You answered her by slamming her precious car door and flipping a middle finger in her direction. Thankfully it wasn’t that far from your place, you could walk for fifteen minutes. It was fine.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, whether it was because of the anger you were feeling or the anticipation of seeing Alexia the next day. But by morning, all you felt was disappointment, because Alexia didn’t show up. You waited and waited, until it was night time and you decided to send her a text.

do you even care about me?

Alexia showed up five minutes later even though her apartment was almost half an hour away. This time, instead of flowers, she brought your favourite chocolates. Ten boxes of them.

“I am sorry, guapa.” You were sitting on Alexia’s lap, your hands playing with the baby hair on the back of her neck. “I was just jealous because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “I was the one to provoke you.”

Alexia nodded, pecking your lips. “Sí. You provoked me.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, you know,” you assured her. “I’m all yours, Alexia.”

She grinned at you, pulling you even closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. “That’s good to hear, amor. No one can love you like I do.”

—

You stayed with Alexia despite it all. Despite the monthly–if not, weekly–fights, despite the red flags waving at you every time you recalled something Alexia did to your friends.

You didn’t care about any of it as long as you have Alexia.

Your friends stopped trying to meddle. Once, they decided to give Alexia a piece of their minds and that made Alexia ignore you for a few days. So in turn, you gave your friends a piece of your mind and told them to back the fuck off. You were a big girl; you knew what you were getting yourself into.

It went on for years. You and Alexia continued the routine: someone says something they didn’t mean—fight—make up—someone gets jealous—fight again—make up, and so on.

It was incredible how much strength you had in you to put up with it. But you loved Alexia, and she loved you back, so it was worth it.

It wasn’t until a fight got so big that it left you both screaming at each other in an empty park in Barcelona at midnight, and suddenly, you felt so suffocated. For the first time ever, you wondered what would happen if both of you just… stopped this whole thing. You wondered then, if you could survive living without Alexia.

“I do not know what you want me to do, Y/N!”

“Well, for one, I would like you to stop flirting with every girl you see. I’m right here!”

“I was not flirting! You just keep on imagining things!”

“Fuck you, Ale!”

“Sí, you have done that many times,” Alexia shrugged casually, her body language telling you she was unbothered by this whole thing. “We can do it again tonight if you want!”

“Fuck! You!”

You turned to leave, but Alexia grabbed your wrist. “Where are you going?”

You yanked your arm free from her grasp. “I’m leaving! It’s over!”

Alexia let out a mocking laugh. “Over?! I do not think so. Come on, amor, do you really think you can live without me?” 

Alexia was so sure that you couldn’t. You felt like you wanted to prove to her otherwise.

So you held your chin out and held her gaze. “Yes. I can. I’m leaving you.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Alexia silently challenged you to take back your words, but you weren’t going to. You decided that you were strong enough to end things.

“You are lying,” Alexia scoffed. “You cannot leave me.”

You glared at her. You hated that she was undermining you. “Watch me.”

As you turned around once again to leave, Alexia suddenly stepped forward and snaked her arms around your waist, her front pressed against your back. You let her hold you—it was going to be the last time anyway.

“Mi amor,” Alexia’s voice trembled. “You cannot leave me. I do not know how to do this without you. Please don’t go. Te amo. Te amo mucho.”

You held back your tears, not expecting Alexia to sound this vulnerable. You placed your hand on top of hers, hesitating for a brief moment before slowly pulling away.

You were finally free.

—

A week passed by without anything from Alexia. Not a phone call, not a text, no flowers on your doorstep, no unannounced visits to your apartment. You realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing Alexia beg for your forgiveness. Alexia is actually respecting your wishes.

She’s no longer bothering you.

You should feel happy, but all you feel is the opposite. You genuinely feel sick at the thought of having Alexia out of your life.

You want her next to you. You want her near you, right now. You don’t care that all you do is fight, that’s what couples do—Alexia once said.

Your friends think it’s a good thing that you cut things off with Alexia, but you don’t think their opinion matters anyway. They’ve always acted like they know your relationship with Alexia better than you.

To get them to back off though, you agreed on a blind date with someone. Just for one night. One night to see what a “perfect girl” looks like.

Her name is Jennifer. What a bland name.

She likes to play tennis and does horse riding. Football is better.

She has a British accent because she grew up in London. Alexia’s accent is much better, way sexier.

An hour in and you could tell that there is nothing wrong with her despite your best efforts at trying to find the worst in everything. But she’s not Alexia.

No one will ever come close.

Before Jennifer gets the chance to order dessert, you fake a stomach ache and leaves.

You walk aimlessly, but deep down you know you have one destination in mind.

It’s been years of back and forth. Yes, you’re tired, but you also crave it.

You crave her.

No matter how much Alexia breaks your heart, you know she’s the only one who can fix it—albeit, not perfectly, she can still patch it up nonetheless.

You don’t mind it. 

If being with Alexia means having a bruised heart full of bandages, you’ll take it.

“Hola, guapa. I missed you.”

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi, I wanted to ask if you could make a batbro who is a clone of batman and supermam and the batfamily and the superfamily fight over who will get him (you can also make him a few months younger than damian and jon and also a cute moment with families please)

Sure, of course I can. They would totally fight. Absolutely everyone. I'm running out of gif ideas... I don't know what to do anymore... Also, this is under Clark kent masterlist, just to let everyone know... I the batfam list is getting too long... I don't know what to do anymore.

Summary: (Y/N) is a clone of Superman and Batman. Fighting ensues.

Warnings: none really, just a (Y/N) clone, nothing graphic or anything in that matter.

Superman and Batman has found that that Lex Luthor has been making clones, yet again. However, Lex has decided to spice the situation up. How, I might hear you asking? With Conner, Lex only used Bruce's DNA. Aka Batman's. Turns out that the boy was growing up like a normal child, in terms of development. However...

That doesn't mean that his childhood was anything but normal. Bring prodded, examined... Being taught how to use his powers to be a weapon. He wasn't being treated like a normal person, a human, should be treated. The fact that (Y/N) grew up physically like a child, meant that they had more time to manipulate (Y/N).

Bruce was appalled at the news of having a clone made from his own DNA and Clark, however, he was livid when he saw that (Y/N) was growing like a normal child, physically, so that would mean he is young.

Younger then Damian and Jon... Bruce nearly exploded with anger once he saw (Y/N), so young, so afraid... Damian was older by a couple of months. Superman was disgusted by Lex Luthor and has vowed to bring him down somehow. No matter what it took. And it tugged at his heart too. Jon was also a few months older than (Y/N).

Both fathers saw red. Pure and utter red. Clones are still human beings... Seeing (Y/N) so afraid, utterly terrified of them... Bruce, despite his code, wanted to rip Lex's throat out. He really wanted to. Clark was no better either.

Thankfully, karma has hit Lex. Bruce and Clark woke up in their respective cities on morning, when the breaking news hit. Bruce was confused. Crime in Gotham happen during the night. Rarely during the day. Only if it's something that involves the Justice League.

So, Bruce was curious and decided to watch the news.

Tax invasion. Damn tax evasion. And a whole lot more of financial crimes. Bruce had to sit down in the living room, on his arm chair.

" Who would have thought... The bastard is also greedy. " Jason mutter from the kitchen, sipping some coffee to fully wake up.

" Deja vu of Al Capone. Couldn't get Lex on meta human trafficking and what not, but on finances. " Tim said and Dick chuckled at the comparison. Al Capone, a big mafia boss, brought down by the all mighty IRS. And now Lex too.

" It seems so. These are nice news, " Damian said as he sipped his tea.

" I agree Damian. This is a nice way to actually start your morning... Did Titus eat? " Bruce asked, bringing his mug up to sip his coffee.

" Yup. He is now out and about playing with Pennyworth, " Damian said, referencing the cat, not the person.

" Okay. " Bruce then stood up, cracking his neck. " I'm going to the League, I need to check on (Y/N) and how he is doing. And don't worry, we are having our movie night. " Bruce reassured everyone as he finished his coffee and put it in the sink for Alfred.

" How is he doing anyway? " Jason asked and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

" We are trying our best, but he is still scared. " Bruce explained and everyone nodded.

" That's no surprise. " Damian said as he finished up his tea. Bruce nodded, getting ready to leave the room.

" Please don't fight. Any of you. " Bruce said before he left the room, making everyone chuckle.

" (Y/N) is staying with us Bruce! End of the discussion! " Clark raised his voice, making Bruce scoff. It's been a few weeks since Lex Luthor was arrested and (Y/N) has been doing much better, so much so that there was a big difference. And it was noticeable. (Y/N) talked more, tried to smile more...

Everyone stepped up for him and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Once (Y/N) got better in every aspect of that word, talks about where he would live after he was stable enough to be released. At first it started objectively, but as time passed, both families have gotten attached.

And that's why this argument was going on.

On one side, you have Clark and his 'Superfamily' on one side and you have Batman and his 'Batfamily.' Both patriarchs of the families argued with everything in them, trying to keep (Y/N) with them. Conner and Jon were ready toe to toe with the bat boys and vice versa.

" What can you do to help him? And if you bring up Conner as experience in clones, I'm going to use Kryptonite on you and make sure you can't get out of bed for the next 10 years! I know all of your weak spots! " Bruce threatened making Clark scoff.

" Oh please, I know all of your weak spots too! (Y/N) would benefit more in Metropolis than Gotham! More so on in our household! Your boys fight every chance they get! "

Bruce and Clark continued to bicker, both of them standing their grounds. The 'bat boys' glared at Clark and Damian was ready to fight with Jon. The other 3 were ready to take Conner on.

" What's going on? " (Y/N) asked as he came in, hearing all the commotion, even from the hall. Everyone froze and started acted friendlier, not as if they were just arguing like cats and dogs.

" Nothing, we are just talking about where you should live. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) nodded.

" Do you have a preference? About where you want to live? With me or Bruce? " Clark asked and (Y/N) tilted his head, clearly thinking about it.

(Y/N) loved them both equally. He was not really sure with whom he wanted to live with.

" What about I spend some time with one and some time with another? " (Y/N) proposed and everyone stopped for a second to think.

That isn't a bad idea.

" Paired with his online schooling once he starts... I like it. " Clark said and Bruce nodded, also agreeing with this idea.

" Good thinking (Y/N). " Bruce said. Clark and Bruce could work around this. The best option would be 6 months with Clark and 6 months with Bruce.

" How about a group hug? " (Y/N) suggested, making everyone jump in, ready to hug it out. Bruce and Clark joined last, hugging their boys too.

" Why didn't we think of this idea? " Clark asked and Bruce chuckled.

" Because we are idiots apparently. " Bruce answered and both chuckled.

" I guess we are. " Clark confirmed.

" Yeah, you are. " (Y/N) chimed in, making everyone laugh. " You could have just asked me what I preferred. " (Y/N) said and everyone nodded.

" I guess we should have. " Bruce said, reaching to pat (Y/N)'s head.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Play fighting with any of these guys can either be really fun or a traumatic experience.

Just a few play fighting hc’s

AGSZC+Hojo

————————————————————————

Zack

Immediately catches on to your antics and “fights” back, also always starts a fight with you

Will definitely lift you up and toss you over his shoulder

Lets you win sometimes unless you start shit talking, will start a new round for your transgressions

Loves slamming you onto the bed or couch, absolutely takes advantage of the fact he can swing you around

He definitely knows a set or two (three) of wwe moves, can’t tell me otherwise

Will stop to make sure you’re okay after underestimating his strength, tossing you completely over the bed

Didn’t play fight with you for months after said incident ^^^^^

This boy has too much energy and is going to play with you until you’re wheezing

Will fight you any and everywhere

Angeal

Had to learn that despite him telling you a very very firm no you were going to climb him like a tree and attempt to secure a rear naked choke

Easily breaks free of any hold you manage to surprise him with (if you can get lucky enough to catch him off guard)

Caves in to your playfulness eventually but asks if you’re okay 45 million times because he can’t “hurt his baby”

Never lets you win but will prolong fights for your sake since you call him mean

Almost always ends in cuddles

Uses said cuddles as a tactic to end your assault. catching on you eventually make it your playful way of asking for cuddles

Only play fights with you in private but will occasionally do it in front of friends

Sephiroth

That man’s reflexes almost took your head off, looked at you with pure bewilderment the first time because “why do you want to hit me?”

Definitely has to get use to this form of playfulness but grows to like the amount of physical contact

On the rarest occasion he might playfully attack first, stopping whatever he was doing to play with you before casually going back about his business

Can get fed up pretty fast sometimes, will pin you down and ask “are you done now”

Memorizes any strategy you have against him (not that you ever win)

Has no idea what it even means to let you win, he’s undefeated. “you have to earn the title”

Only uses 2% of his strength when fighting you, you try to force him to use even more strength

Only play fights at home

Cloud

“What the hell are you doing?” Another bewildered look, he’s no fun right now

He’s not going to play with you…at first

Caves in after months of attempts, to your surprise he attacked you first

(He’s just hard ^)

Also likes the amount of physical contact because he’s touch starved

You thought this guy would let you win? No. Absolutely not—he’ll be damned. You know that boy loves to win.

Is definitely gonna go 3D Brawlers on you and 3 piece combo the shit out of you.

“Are you okay?” He’s smirking as he asks, as though he didn’t just leave you on the floor to die

Definitely only does this when it’s the just two of you

Hojo

Don’t even bother with this man. isn’t entertaining anything ever

Christ he’s an old man why are you trying to fight him anyways

Just wants you to get back in your pod “don’t make this more difficult than it has to be”

Slaps your hands away (kinda sassy) “I have work to do”

Are you supposed to care about his work when he only lets you out of your pod once a week? You’ve gotta enjoy this

Still touching him and refusing to get back in your pod, he sees clearly now you must want to breed

Genesis (The Rizzler)

Started play fighting with you first, he’s gotta see what positions he can contort you into for later

Also loves tossing you around, has to show you that his muscles aren’t just for show

The biggest show off of them all, isn’t going to let you win. not unless you sit on it

100% going to hunt you down for trying to slip in a shot, running away after you hit him

Likes holding you against him as all you can do is giggle and squirm

Almost always ends with you naked underneath him. I don’t make the rules, he’s gonna tickle you out of those drawers

Knows you want to fight before you know you want to fight

Will play with you in front of any of his friends and at home, also not very public about it.

————————————————————————

I call Genesis The Rizzler on a regular basis, you couldn’t even convince me his name is Genesis anymore

[limerence-17]

take her home

masterlist

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

warnings: 18+ mdni blowjob, fingering, mutual masturbation, drinking (underage presumably), vulgar language, intoxication (reader is, rafe is sober no drunk driving here friends!!), angsty very angsty, reader is drunk and annoying but then again rafe is also annoying in this

synopsis: you're a family friend of the cameron's and sarah's childhood best friend. after one night taking it too hard at rafe's party, sarah's asks rafe to drive you home...

word count: 2.1k

A/N: all characters are 18+ here. also my photos for some reason are uploading weird so sorry for the collage thats not in HD rip. lowercase intended.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

you weren't going to drink, that wasn't even your original plan but between sarah's strange mixed drinks (vodka crans were her usual) and your recent break up with your boyfriend you were a lot more drunk than you'd expected to be.

rafe threw parties every once in a while in the obx and seeing how he was two years older than you, it was fun for sarah and yourself to join them every once in a while.

"there's gonna be at least one hot guy there to get your mind off of lucas," sarah told you as you both were getting ready. lucas was your boyfriend, ex boyfriend now. ever since he cheated on you a week ago with some girl from the cut.

that night, you had a few drinks and ended up swimming in the cameron's pool. once you got out of the pool, you found yourself gravitating to some guy who rafe supposedly knew. he was tall, brown hair, kind eyes. you'd touch his chest every time he said something remotely funny.

you let out a loud belly laugh, playing with your half dried hair from the pool. you were only wearing a pink bikini top with your shorts. now that you thought about it you remembered leaving your bikini bottoms in the upstairs washroom. so technically you were going commando? it didn't matter anyway, you'd find them eventually.

sarah was standing across the pool, closer to the back porch. she could hear a few of rafe's friends speaking about you. but as she listened closely, they were nasty comments.

"yo who knew that friend of the cameron's had tits like that, i'd fucking grab them any day..."

sarah was about to run over and intervene when rafe suddenly stumbled out the back door, laughing with some buddies. he reached for whatever drugs he had in his pocket before sarah went up and smacked his hand. he whipped his head around, eyeing her viciously.

"you have a death wish or something tonight sarah?"

sarah grabbed rafe by his cheeks, smushing them in her hands as she turned his head so that he was now paying attention to you and the boy. she figured he would’ve understood just how serious this was, but clearly rafe was not having it that night.

rafe removed sarah's hand from his cheeks, rather annoyed now.

"so your annoying ass friend is flirting with nate? so what?" rafe said, reaching down into his pocket once again.

"our friend is gonna regret this by morning if we don't stop it at some point. these assholes you know are talking about her behind her back like she's some piece of ass. rafe can you please take her home?" sarah said, pleading with her eyes wide.

rafe glared down at sarah. he rubbed his hands against his eyes, groaning.

"are you fucking kidding me right now? i mean this is my party-"

sarah's eyes widened more and her eyebrows creased. she was making the same puppy eyes she would make when they were kids.

"she's our family friend rafe, and if anything happens to her you know dad will hold you responsible! not just for this shit party, but for her! plus don’t you remember-“

rafe cut her off.

"fine! fine... jesus i'll take her home, but you owe me for this one sarah i swear to god-"

"yeah yeah i know, beers on me for a month…” sarah said mockingly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"i'll be back in a sec baby, just gonna go to the washroom," nate said as he walked away from you. you couldn’t help but smile as his hand grazed your back as he stepped away. you took another sip from your drink

seconds later, you felt a cold hard hand grip at your upper arm. you whipped your head to the right, only to see rafe standing beside you, looking more serious than usual.

"no fucking way rafe cameron is here..." you groan out, swinging your hands. rafe rolls his eyes.

"i'm taking you home." rafe commands you swing around once more, this time facing all the party goers.

"rafe cameron everybody!! you yelled, grabbing the attention of everybody outside. “let’s all give me a round of applause for throwing this wild wild party!” the sounds of whoops, and cups being raised into the air followed.

rafe grabbed your arm harder now, sighing from frustration.

"you're drunk. and i'm taking you home…now."

you stumbled backwards over your feet, as he dragged you back through the side backyard door. you were laughing, still a little out of it until you were near the car.

"woah, you're not seriously taking me home right? the night's only started,” you say, snorting a bit as you laughed.

"i'm not doing this for you, i'm doing this cause if i don't i'll get in shit. so just be obedient for once and get in the damn car," rafe said demandingly, opening the passenger door and guiding his hand across your back so that you could sit in the car.

"so pushy dad... you're so totally acting like my dad right now," you said, putting your feet up on the dash and clicking the buttons in the car as he sat in the driver's seat. you playfully keep touching things in the car.

"jesus… don't call me that," rafe said, rubbing his temple as he turned on the ignition.

"fine..." you wave your hands up in the air like you've been caught red handed. you cover your mouth because the second the thought crosses your mind you already want to laugh, but you haven't even said it.

"my bad...daddy..."

rafe freezes, his hands gripping the steering wheel. he’d only just started to back out of the driveway and he flips his head over to face you.

"what? don’t call me that shit-“ he says.

rafe grabs your leg, motioning it downward.

"and get your feet off my dash."

you start pushing at random buttons. of course rafe cameron drives a tesla.

"beep boop, boop..." you say jokingly as you open the window now putting your hand out.

"it's a spaceship in here," you say. you've only gotten about two blocks down. rafe is ignoring your comments, focusing on the road.

"this car is so much better than my exes anyway... i totally hated that guy i mean what was i thinking?"

this has seemed to have gotten rafe's attention as he glances over at you now.

"what do you mean?"

"i meannnnnnn he was a cheater and a liar and totally wasn't even that cute," you say, swinging your hands around.

"i mean wouldn't it make sense to want to sleep with someone who is attractive? lucas was really not even attractive, i mean his nose was like so small, like a little rabbit or something," you groan on. to your surprise, or maybe shock, rafe laughs at this. a genuine laugh.

you could almost sober up from that alone because it's something you haven't really heard since you were kids.

"i think it would make more sense to sleep with someone like you y'know," you say.

oh there you go. you've done it now. no taking that back anymore.

rafe glances over at you quickly, as if he's debating pulling over or something.

"me? what-what are you talking about?"

you shrink slowly into the seat, now embarrassed that you ever said that. you can almost feel yourself head and limbs sinking into the seat.

"are you-you saying you'd wanna sleep with me?"

you glance over, and for some reason your eyes glance over to his pants, and you can't help but notice the bulge that's forming. holy shit did i do that? you think to yourself.

"i mean… i'm not blind rafe, i'm just drunk."

rafe scoffs, switching his glance frequently between you and the road.

"you're serious though, you're not bullshitting me? you like- would actually sleep with me?" rafe says again, as if he can't believe it. he's speeding a little bit more now and you can't help but wonder if it's because you've distracted him.

"i... would yes," you say, nodding slowly, although you're too nervous and humiliated now to make eye contact with him. not too mention, you're still in your bikini top and now widely aware of that.

"jesus i mean... is this your way of asking cause i'm kinda sitting here getting turned on one way or another," rafe scoffs. he's so arrogant, you think to yourself. arrogant, but stupid hot. you glance over, looking back at his pants, he notices your eyes widen at the sight.

"besides, its kinda hot, knowing that sarah or our parents could never find out i mean... it's the secretive part of it that's so... well and your tits too i mean they look fucking magical tonight..." rafe says.

he turns to you, meeting your gaze, looks back at the road and then grabs your hand and gradually brings it to his crotch.

"i mean feel how hard i am, and that is all your doing princess," he says.

you grip at his cock, feeling it harden in his shorts. he's harder than you could have imagined.

"you can take it out if you'd like," he says, reaching for the zipper. the way he's unzipping his shorts while still keeping his eyes on the road is now starting to turn you on. there's heat pooling in your shorts and you're now viciously aware of the fact that you're not wearing any bikini bottoms. if you get any more wet it's game over.

you pull out his cock slowly from his boxers, and your shocked to see the pre cum already soaking out from his tip. he's hard, and you know it's your doing. rafe glances down for a moment, and then you feel his hand against the back of your head.

"you can suck it too," he says grunting.

"but-rafe you're driving what if someone sees-"

"who gives a shit let them see your pretty face sucking me off."

and with that you lick the tip, hearing him let out a slow moan. you just know he's trying not to lay his head backwards in pleasure just based on the noises he's making. you twist your right hand around his cock, moving it up and around and down. your tongue swirls around the tip until you start bobbing your mouth. after about three minutes he pulls you back up. you wipe your mouth and look over at him.

"what? what's wrong?"

"nothing- i was just gonna cum from that is all. plus i wanna feel you anyway-" he says. your eyes widen.

"me?"

"yeah," rafe replies. "unbutton those shorts why don't you so i can feel your pussy."

the way he says that, the rasp in his voice has you already unbuttoning your shorts. you're not sure how he's gonna do this, considering he's driving, until you come up to train tracks and the lights have gone off.

hm nice timing, you think to yourself.

as the train whooses by, you turn over to meet eye contact with rafe and he looks hungry. really... hungry. you both practically smash into each other, your lips colliding with each other. he's biting your bottom lip and sticking his tongue into your mouth and your letting out moans. if this was wrong, how could it feel this good.

"wanna... touch your pussy..." he moans out between kisses and so you pull away.

you pull down your shorts instinctively, forgetting you're not wearing anything underneath. great, i'm half naked in rafe cameron's car ,you think to yourself.

rafe's eyes go wide as he glances over at your body, your agonizingly wet pussy on the car seat.

"fuck me can't believe you've been hiding all that underneath those shorts," rafe grunts as he reaches over to feel you. his middle finger slides up your slit painfully slow. you grab your seatbelt as you lean back.

"holy shit you're so wet, all for me i fucking love that shit," rafe says. he uses his middle finger and ring finger to slowly start tracing circles around your clit, gradually upping the pace. you start grinding against his fingers. this train was taking forever.

"wait...wait...." rafe says pulling away causing you to groan.

"i know baby but... just touch yourself. i wanna see you make yourself cum." he says, now pulling out his dick once again.

you feel a little embarrassed but you're also so turned on so you oblige, slowly tracing circles around your clit. you can't help but watch as his jerks himself off, his eyes hungry staring down at you. it's like he's memorizing your every moment. you stick in one finger, than two, fingering yourself hard now. you rotate between that and rubbing circles against your clit until you feel your build up coming up. it only takes a few moments before you feel your release about to happen.

"fucking cum for me you dirty bitch come on-" rafe says between grunts.

you gasp as your orgasm hits you, and so does his seconds later, cum coming out of his cock. the train has now passed, and you both realize this in a panic.

you pull your shorts up quickly and look around for a tissue. rafe has started to drive away and you wipe at his stomach. he's exhaling deeply now.

"your parents home tonight?" he asks.

you lean back smiling teasingly as you bite your lip.

"no..."

"good cause i'm coming inside."

[penkura]

No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

[endereies]

ONE MORE DAY

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Contains: Mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression and anxiety, happy ending, heavy angst - sorry not sorry

Requested?: no

Author's notes: I really enjoyed writing this, especially with sad music like take care or duster playing. that shit hits.

Word Count: 3954

Dealing with mental health wasn’t a new situation in your relationship with Matt. He has had anxiety problems since he was 11 and has always been open about it, whether that was to his family or to his fans. However, that was a skill that you lacked.

Matt was always talking to you whenever he felt anxious in a situation, finding that his concerns seemed to lessen when he was around you. He had often silently latched on to your hand in a public environment as he focused on the warmth between your palms.

He confided in you after a stressful day of filming and taking pictures addressing how he particularly felt in each moment.

And you would always accept these small rants of anxious build up because you didn’t want him to feel the same way that you did.

You had internally struggled with your own anxiety for a few years, more recently symptoms of depression.

You never told Matt about any of this, not that you didn’t trust him with the information, you just didn’t want to overbear him when he had his own anxiety to manage.

You blamed yourself for selfish thoughts whenever he felt anxious at the same times as you, often relying on the same hand holding that he did to simultaneously calm you both down.

Over these years of having anxiety, you learnt what your tells were when feeling anxiety build up inside and tried to hide them whenever you could. And when you couldn’t? You’d hide in your room and cancel plans until that overbearing feeling went away.

-

This type of day had grown to be typical for you, one that consisted of a growing pit in your stomach caused by emotions you no longer felt in control of. You were left in your bed scratching at your wrists, the actions only growing harder the more you couldn’t satisfy the ‘itch’ that tore through under your skin. One left behind from previous nights.

As much as anxiety wasn’t a new feeling to you, your self-harm methods were. Of course, you had known about it, and how bad it was to deal with. The addiction of the lines that changed colour the more the razor dug into the flesh, or the harshness of reality that stepped in and out of your mind. It wasn’t enough to deter you and last night you gave in once more. Wanting to feel something else consistently other than that pit that sunk more every day.

The feeling was addictive, but it grew harder to hide from people, especially Matt. The constant handholding or affection made you paranoid and so you pulled back from him. You didn’t want him to find out.

The more you pulled back, however, the more that Matt grew concerned.

You had overheard him talking to Chris and Nick about how he thought you were starting to fall out of love with him, but to you those accusations couldn’t be further from the truth. To you Matt was a break from that feeling, making you smile subconsciously on days when all you wanted to do was turn off from everything. It was selfish the amount of time you craved with him, selfish the amount of things you wouldn’t tell him, selfish the number of times you cancelled plans made in advance over something you desperately needed to control.

But as much as you loved him, and had tried to privately talk to professionals, this feeling grew way more than you had ever wanted, and it had begun to wear you and others down.

-

“Are you cancelling again, y/n? We’ve had this day planned for a week now.” Matt voice was tainted with disappointment, and it took me a while before I got the courage to respond to him.

“I’m sorry Matt, something just came up and it’s urgent.” My breathe shook after I had finished, hating the more lies I had created the last month.

“Can I at least come over tomorrow..?” As much as I didn’t want to, I felt like I needed to see him, in a hope that I would feel somewhat better.

“Yeah, course..” And with that I hung up the phone, before either of us got another chance to speak.

That night I got to writing, the mood from earlier spilling over my brain and into my tears that were evident on the paper. The words were messy but said all I needed them to. I just hoped that whoever read it, understood all I was ever silently saying to them. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

-

After a rough night’s sleep and a few hours in bed I dragged myself out of it and towards the shower. I sighed once my skin made contact with the water trying to relax my arm under the sting of the water pressure.

 I made sure not to spend more time than I had to in the shower, needing enough time to get dressed and get something to eat before Matt arrived.

The outfit didn’t seem like much, but it did hide a lot more. I grabbed an old hoodie and tossed it over a plain black t-shirt. The sweatpants I threw on matched my shirt and hung loosely on my hips.

Dishes has started to stack up in my sink, but I wasn’t prepared to wash them all and I was thankful that Matt never minded, as long as we were able to talk with one another. The food I picked out was just a small bowl of cereal that I have had for several days now but it was one of the only foods I was okay with eating. I felt too tired to finish the bowl and simply abandoned it next to the identical unfinished bowl over by the sink.

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock at my front door, and I instantly knew it was Matt. I gathered my mind and opened the door for him with a smile on my face.

“Hey baby, how was the ride over?” I shut the door behind him after he enters to lean on the door to take off his shoes.

“Traffic was okay, I’m just glad I get to see you again” As much as I know he meant well, his words stung a bit and made my heart drop slightly. Luckily, his back was still facing me, and he couldn’t see it happen.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you yesterday” Matt’s body faces mine once he pushes his shoes to the side and walks towards me with a meek smile displayed on his face.

“y/n, it’s okay, things come up. I get it.” He put his arm around my waist and rubs my waist lightly, just caressing the skin underneath, I pull away as quick as the touch begin and I feel his touch linger onto my skin, making my guilt apparent.

I wander around the kitchen for a moment, thinking of an excuse for leaving Matt until my eyes fall onto a selection of sodas and drinks.

“Want anything to eat or drink at all..?” my fingers trace the glass bottles slowly before landing onto the cans and picking a Pepsi.

“I’ll have a Pepsi with you, baby.” I smile as I hand him a Pepsi with my free arm and taking it back once I realise, I wasn’t watching how far my sleeve went up. I was grateful that he wasn’t paying any attention.

-

It had been an hour since Matt arrived and we had settled on watching a film, one that Matt had picked out several times before, but we never got bored of it. My duvet covers were shifted around to place both Matt and I underneath for comfort, but I took it as an opportunity for Matt to get close to me without being consumed with paranoia.

His fingers tangled in my hair and gently rubbing my scalp nearly nulled me to sleep. I felt safe enough to relax my body for the first time in over a week and my body ached after being tense for so long.

The feeling of his fingers stroking my hair brought me back to my childhood, one where I felt safely vulnerable in front of my mother who allowed me to watch cartoons while she braided my hair. Moments like these took away from the stress of those previous weeks.

“Do you want me to brush your hair, pretty girl?” I look up at him and weakly nod, feeling a little tired from him stroking my hair.

I have always loved when he plays with my hair and it became a token of affection after long days, and often I would return the favour whenever he asked.

He nods at me with a slight hum for a response before his body shifts under the covers. I sit up and lean off of his chest so that he can leave the bed. I take his place in the bed soon after just so that I can retain the warmth he left behind.

I notice him walking over to my desk and resting his wrists against the top of my chair as support while he scans it for my brush. I don’t pay any attention to it until he moves a drawer, not being able to locate it.

“Baby? It might be in the spare room; I was tidying there in there a while ago.” I try not to mumble within the tiredness I felt and offer him a small smile which he reciprocates.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a second then, want to pause the film?” I only nod in response, looking on the pillows for the remote to pause the show and once it does, Matt disappears to the hallway.

Matt’s Pov:

The spare room door was already open, and I simply pushed it open to glance into the room, the door was immediately put to a halt when it hit a box behind it. Luckily, I had enough of a gap to go through but I was met with more boxes and random items everywhere. This was so unusual for me to see in y/n’s house; she was persistent over how the house had looked and presented itself.

I stand among the clutter before focusing on what I entered the room for, yet once again it wasn’t obvious to me.

The boxes seemed to be filled with clothes and the items were old art projects I had seen her buy for fun, so I crossed those areas off as places to look.

I had been in this room before, yet it seemed so unrecognisable from the other places in the house I had been so used to over the years of knowing y/n. But the large white bookcase was still a standout against the dark blue walls. They didn’t seem as scattered as the rest of the room and so finding the brush became an easier task. Bright blue stood out against the white and I walked towards it to grab it, but I noticed a small stack of papers laid next to it. All folded sporadically with names scribbled all over them. It shouldn’t have peaked my interest but I had never known y/n to journal or write to people, so curiosity got the better of me. The top where names of family members, ones that even I knew well, but once I got through family members, I saw my name in a section next to Nick’s and Chris’s.

It stayed shut in my hand for me moment, my eyes not even deterring to place the pile back onto the shelf. The handwriting seemed rushed and scribbled and it only made me question these actions more. I shouldn’t have looked at the paper and I had already felt guilty for it, before it even happened.

I shouldn’t have opened it.

I started to read the letter to myself, and I sat on the spare bed on the small section that wasn’t already covered with the boxes and my heart sank.

Matt, I am so sorry for doing this, to you or anyone else. I’m still not sure about what I might do but I know that you’d want closure if I did. It’ll make itself clear. And I hope the main point you get from this is that this was never your fault.

I’ve just been feeling so shitty for weeks, maybe months at this point and honestly? I don’t see myself getting any fucking better.

Everything is stressing me out every day and it’s limiting everything I do, I can’t go outside often without someone there to ease my anxiety, nor can I even walk freely in my own home without any fear of being watched by people, and I’m rotting.

You were actually the only help I really had, not that you ever knew it.

I wanted us to last a bit longer than this, our three-year anniversary is in a few months but I’ll be lucky to not do this all by September.

I’ve planned a few things for you, love. I’ve saved all my money aside and sold things you would have trouble doing yourself. I didn’t want that burden on you. I wore several hoodies for you to have and slowly given things to you that I know you adore. That necklace you got me a year ago? The one of the gold star with the thin chain? I saved it for you, you were the wish I got from the stars I lay under in my childhood and I never want you to forget that.

I know this is selfish and I’ve done every way to rid of this feeling, good and bad. I’ve talked to people, talked to people who have gone through similar things and even talked to you about what helps you. I even started to harm myself. ‘Stupid’, I know. It only made me hide from you. Everything, from you.

My love, I’m sorry for this last burden on you, but after today you can rest happily without the castaway feeling I’ve shone on you the past few months.

I love you forever, y/n.

Y/n’ Pov:

“Shit, shit, shit” the words come out stuttered and repeat as I fling the covers from over my waist, realizing my errors.

Matt was taking a longer time than usual and when I looked at my phone, I realised it had nearly been ten minutes. I started to be confused and wondered what could’ve delayed him for so long. I mentally scan the spare room while I shift so that I can sit on the edge of the bed. I remember the boxes that were scattered and the things that were a mess compared to the other sections of my house. Was that a call for his curiosity? That’s when it hit me. The notes that I had left on the bookshelf was obvious and open for anyone to see. I started to panic.

I instantly flung the rest of the duvet off of me and slide off the mattress, muttering cuss words under my breath. I approached the spare room with a heavy chest and opened the door to meet Matt who was sat down on the bed with one hand holding his hair and the other gripping onto a slip of paper that I immediately recognised. His tears had dampened the paper similar to how mine did whilst writing, filled with heartbreak and torment.

It takes him a second to calm down enough and acknowledge that I had ran into the room, both of us with lingering heavy chests.

“Wha-” His voice escaped his lips in a raspy stutter.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked more firmly, some sort of emotion, thick in his voice. Though I couldn’t pull apart whether it was anger or betrayal, could’ve been both.

I tried to response but all that I was able to communicate were small stutters. My palms became sweaty, and the anxious feeling grew in my stomach on the brink of physical pain.

“y/n, tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.” His tone remained harsh and cold, but his tears made it sound brittle.

I didn’t want to say anything in fear of how Matt would react, but my silence answered his question for him.

“You have this all planned, don’t you?” His voice was unwavering making me shrink back into the corner by the door I entered prior.

“Don’t you.” I jolt when his voice becomes flat, making the only distinguishable teller of his emotions the tears that continued to fall past his cheeks.

My head nods in response, the small action making Matt take another shaky breath and face me dead on. He sucks in a harsh breath before facing me and speaking again.

“What’s going on.. wha- wh-..” His voice trails off with a break in his voice, making me internally wince.

“It’s nothing I just..needed an expel of stress..” My voice is monotonous but its shaking through the lies that we both know aren’t true. I just needed time to gather what I wanted to say to him.

“This is more than nothing, talk to me y/n.” When he stands up, I suddenly feel like a rabbit under a predatory stare and with my back against the wall, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. He notices a fearful expression in my eyes and creates distance between us, giving me a chance to step forward which I reluctantly took.

I was conflicted between the fear of how he felt towards me and the comfort I found in him, it was tearing me up inside and he could tell my thoughts were scattered. His own thoughts followed.

“Why didn’t you tell me a- any of this.” His words were swallowed harshly, and more tears threatened to spill over and I felt so guilty.

“You have your own shit to deal with. I couldn’t bore you with mine.” I look off to the side with a flat expression overtaken with so many emotions that I had started to shut down.

“Bore me? Baby this is your wellbeing we are talking about. Y-“ He takes a moment to regain his composure again “You could never bore me, especially with something as serious as this” He looks down at the paper, now slightly crumbled from the tight grip Matt had and the tears that fell.

“Is all of this true y/n, I mean the..self-harm”

I take a deep breath and exhale quickly when I nod my head and say yes with a whimper. My palm subconsciously rubs the fabric over my wrist, and I start to shake my hands with the raw shame of what I had done.

“I need you to know something, okay?” I meet his gaze which was full of compassion and for the first time in this conversation, I felt a little safer.

“I’m not mad at you”.

And with that my body practically collapses onto his and I hold his body tight. My arms wrapped around his waist and gripped the fabric while I choked out sobs into his chest. His own hands lay on my back, one holding the paper and the other rubbing the bottom of my neck back and forth. My heart simply broke with the pure kindness Matt still showed for me.

He broke down above me, hearing small sniffles when he lay his head on top of mine. He held most of my weight with his body and he lowered me on the ground and sat next to me, letting my legs rest under the pressure.

“I’d never, ever be mad at you for this, I just wish you came to me to talk about this. Any of it” Some words were mistakenly for others through the tears that ran down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, i-“

“Hey hey.. look at me.” My eyes try and focus on Matt, but they stutter and shut tight, releasing the tears that blocked my vision. My throat starts to feel tighter and restricts my breathing slightly.

“Don’t apologise, jus- just talk to me.. what’s happened baby”.

I use a free hand to wipe my face and the breathes that I take in are shaky but are enough to relax my body.

“My anxiety just keeps flaring up, to the point where it’s almost constant and in any situation. Its why I’m cancelling so much on you. I keep feeling so guilty whenever I mess up and so after everything built up, I started to- to self-harm and I just kept getting worse. I didn’t want to bother you when you had your own anxiety to cope with” words spill from my mouth in some sort of word vomit, but it was the only way to say what I needed without feeling so overwhelmed.

I had started to scratch at my wrists gently and I didn’t notice until Matt took my hand in his and caressed the skin lightly, his touch allowing me to ground myself.

“Is this why you shut people out?”

“Yeah..it’s why I’ve been cancelling and distant.” I lay my head down onto his, seeking comfort from his touch.

“What can I do?” Calmness starts to rise through his words, getting rid of most the emotion that tore us down a few moments prior.

“What?”

“I want to help you, you don’t deserve this, baby.” The grip on my palm moves to my arm and shoulder and rubs it while pulling me slightly closer.

“You being here is enough. I was so scared to tell anyone about this, I was so paranoid that they would shut me out. But-“ my eyes welled up again but this time it wasn’t for anxiety. I wasn’t shaking anymore, and my throat eased up the pressure, finally letting me take my first stable breath.

“I’ll never leave, I’m always here to listen and talk when you, literally anything you want.”

My hand raises to hug him tighter, but my shirt gets caught on the skin of my scars and makes me wince and pull back.

“Hey, you alright y/n?” he sits up and hold my hand that pulled away from him and grabs the end of the fabric.

“Mhm just pulled some skin I- I’m fine.”

He looks between the hand he holds and my own gaze asking for permission but before he does anything, I pull the shirt back up towards my elbow. I hear a faint gasp from Matt followed by a shaky exhale, realizing the real damage caused by my mental health.

“Let’s bandage this up, yeah?” he stands up beside me and holds his hand before me to help me up, which I oblige.

-

I look at my arm again and my mind clears from my issues. The severity of my actions caused by my own hands. The person I once admired simply was torn through the skin and it was hard for me to look away. I only did when Matt placed his hand on my chin and made me face him, seeing how long I was staring for.

“M’sorry..” a tight-lipped smile crosses his face before he pulls me in for a hug and rubs my back in a soothing way. Falling into a quiet atmosphere.

“I love you, Matt”.

“I love you more, kid.”

We stay in silence for a bit, only breaking it to sniffle from our tears or to adjust ourselves onto one another.

I was finally feeling the peace I craved for months, and I was happy it was with Matt.

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerssturns @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @luverboychris @rootbeerworshiper

[sevikaslapdog]

The regular

Summary: Working at babette’s you’re used to people asking for you after being in your company. You’re used to some of your clients speaking to you in passing, telling you they’ll see you soon. But your not used to that person being Silco’s right hand (wo)man.

Warning: mentions of prostitution, drinking, smoking, mentions of stalking, mentions of r#pe (very briefly), mentions of sex but none actually occurs, let me know if i missed anything else

a/n: Very clique plot for Sevika I know I know, but its perfect.

You’ve been working for babette since you were in your early twenties, now years have passed and you’ve grown accustomed to the life of a prostitute. Babette takes good care of you, as she does for most of her workers. Its just in her nature as she knows the work isn’t easy.

Throughout you many years of working for her you’ve had your bad experiences, men being way too rough, some even stalking you, but the past week you had the worst of them all. A specific client thats visited you multiple times forced his seed inside of you, breaking one of the few rules. After you were a bit shaken up and immediately went to Babette about it.

She immediately sent someone to go get the need medicine to prevent a pregnancy, comforting you and granting you a week off per your request. You spent the first couple days laying in bed and sleeping, as you didnt get much due to your job. The rest you spent taking a much needed self reset, doing things that made you happy. Like taking a nice bath, trimming your hair and nails, painting them in your favorite color, and cleaning to soothe your anxiety if it came creeping back up. The day before you had to go back you made sure to get enough sleep knowing your body craved more rest before returning to the tasking work.

On your first day back you took your time getting yourself together, walking into Babettes office and asking who had booked you today. To your surprise she informed you that Sevika booked you for your whole shift. You could tell by her tone that she was a bit surprised too, but she didnt mention it. She mentioned that every day you were gone she barged in asking for you, and with each passing day she got more aggravated with hearing ‘Shes not here today.’

Shes payed you many visits throughout the past couple months, sometimes seeing other girls but she always came back to you. Whispering in your ear that no one could satisfy her better than you, while you whined and moaned on the strap she always wore when seeing you. You let out a hum as you strolled down the hall, knowing she was waiting for you in your room.

As you pushed open the curtain your eyes landed on her, taking up a good amount of space on the couch, her legs spread wide with her mechanical arm resting on the back of the couch as she smoked her cigar with her right. You let the curtains fall behind you as you leisurely walked towards her. Once you were close enough she moved the arm from the back of the couch and wrapped the cold metal around your nearly bare skin. Letting it slip down to your hip as she pulled you into her lap.

With a smile you got comfortable while perched in her lap, placing your hands on her shoulders and moving them to the back of her neck. Playing with the locks on the back of her head. She took one last drag of the cigar, digging it into the tray that you had in your room just for her as she blew the smoke into your face.

You breathed it in with a sigh, it was quiet for a moment before she spoke up. “You’ve kept me waiting woman.” Despite her harsh words there was no ounce of anger lacing her tone. Using her actual arm to place under your chin and held it firmly.

“Wanna let me know why that is hm?” She leaned in slightly, a sly smile pulled on your lips. “Missed me sev?” You were avoiding the question, you both knew it. She let out a huff, ducking her head to your neck and placed a soft bite to your neck, not enough to hurt but enough to make it known she wanted answers. You tilted your head back in bliss, missing the way her mouth felt pressed against your neck. As she pulled away from your neck you whined at the loss of contact.

Through the many visits you let your persona fade away, letting yourself enjoy her pleasure just as much as she enjoyed yours. Not caring to put up a front like you do with other clients. “Tell me.” Letting out a huff you look at her, glancing away briefly as you mumbled to her what happened. You knew you shouldn’t, it wasn’t a good idea but it was Sevika. Not just some random man who came stumbling in.

Immediately her attitude shifted, her touch more gentle but she would deny it if you brought it up. You spent the next hours in each other’s blissful company while she praised you, focusing more on you than pleasuring herself.

When it was time to leave she fixed up her appearance slightly in the tiny mirror you kept to fix yourself up in-between clients while you sat next to her. You stared at her tiredly, sighing as you got up from the couch. She placed the mirror down that seemed smaller in her big hands, standing up and towering over you. She took two pouches of coins from her bag and tossed them on the table, “Keep ‘em. I’ll see you later doll.” You smiled at her and waved your fingers at her as she left.

You felt more at peace as you changed into your regular clothes, placing the two pouches Sevika gave you in your bag. Waving to Babette as you left the brothel for the night, and grabbing some food from Jericho’s on your way home.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Weeks have passed since then, you’ve fallen back into your usual routine. Lately Sevika’s visits have been less sex and more talking. Mostly her complaining about all the shit she has to deal with when it comes to cleaning up after jinx messes, and Silco’s been putting more work on her than usual. Of course no matter what you two were doing you enjoyed her company, the whole time she rambled you ran your fingers through her hair, up and drown the side of her neck while holding her cigar for her until she motioned for it.

On one of those days you told her about how you used her money to fix up your place, you managed to snag of of the few two story homes in zaun. Of course it was abandoned at first but with much grueling work and help from some friends years ago you fixed it up the best you could. You slightly rambled on how you were able to buy a heater to fight against the grueling cold weather that was flowing through zaun right now. You also told her that you were able to buy some new outfits you think she’d like.

Today though was one of the few days you were off, a friend from the brothel asked to snag one of your shifts because she needed some money to buy her son new winter clothes. Of course you let her have it, obviously making sure sevika didnt book you for that day.

Deciding you wanted to get a drink today instead of staying home you pulled on some old worn down leggings and then some thick cargo jeans. Sliding on a black long sleeve that was skin tight and a thick jacket you purchased many cold winters ago which was obvious due to the jacket being worn down. Pairing the outfit with your old black boots that don’t get much wear now. But it did the job so you couldn’t care less. After sliding money in your pocket that would surely cover a few drinks you headed out to The Last Drop.

You pushed the doors open and were immediately greeted with strobe lights and loud music, and smoke flowing through the air. Pushing your way through the crowd to get to the bar, you slid into a bar stool and ordered a shot of whiskey. It was a bit expensive but you liked to take pleasure in spoiling yourself sometimes.

So as you downed the shot, and the next few you didn’t think about how much it costed. Instead you cherished the way the warm liquid ran down your throat. You didn’t take enough to get drunk, but enough to feel a slight buzz. You decided to just sit at the bar for a while until you heard an all too familiar whistle.

It was the whistle she used every-time you stripped off your new set, or when you moved in a way she particularly liked. You head slowly turned to the sound, locking eyes with her. She was sitting in a booth near the stairs that led up to what you would assume is Silco’s office. She was sitting across from a work colleague she mentioned once, Ran if you remembered correctly.

You tried to fight the small smile that played on your lips as she beckoned you over, you slid off the barstool and walked over to her booth. Sliding in to sit next to her. Her arm immediately moved to rest behind you, “What’re you doing here doll?” You glanced to her friend who was simply looking at you. Not with a glare or anything but was trying to figure out who you were. Looking back over at her. “Had the day off, wanted a drink.” You shifted your leg so it was draping over hers, something you’ve grown accustomed to.

She hummed, eyes glancing down at your leg which seemed so much smaller compared to hers. Something she enjoyed when the time came. “If I knew any better i’d say you were looking for me.” She let a teasing smirk pull on her face. You saw her friend slide out the booth through the corner of your eye but didn’t pay it any mind. “Would it be so bad if I was?” Raising your brows at her in a playful manner.

Her hand lifted from behind the couch, wrapping around and her fingers grazed your cheek. Her gentleness taking you aback for a moment, “No, it wouldn’t.” she stared down at you for a moment before rest her hand on your thigh and turned to take a sip from her drink.

The rest of the night you spent with each other, sitting in the booth and talking. Getting to know one another beyond sex, and the rambling that occurred in the brothel. When the night came to a close she walked you back to your house, and with much convincing she stayed the night.

home

[theemporium]

[1.8k] when both hughes brothers think the pretty girl at the bar is way too out of quinn's league, not realising she is very much his girlfriend they were about to meet.

not totally convinced i like this but it's the first quinn piece so who knows

.

“There’s no fucking way, dude.” 

“Mhm.” 

“She’s out of your league, just drop it.” 

“I don’t know, I think I could pull it off.” 

Jack raised his brows at his older brother, examining his face like he was trying to work out if he was being serious or not. However, when Quinn showed no signs of joking around—not even a hint of a smile—the boy was inclined to snort and shake his head. Luke, sitting on the other side of his oldest brother, could only join in. 

“I love you, but you’re fucking delusional,” Luke told him before his eyes glanced back over to where you were sat at the bar. “Not to be funny, dude, but she looks like she’d walk all over you.” 

Quinn just lifted his bottle of beer to his lips, trying to hide the grin that was threatening to break out. 

With the chaos of the hockey season and the summer months spent at the lake house, it was rare for his brothers to find a chance to come up to Vancouver. They flew up just as often as he came down to Jersey, which wasn’t enough by any of their likings but it was the unfortunate way things worked.

Unless they were playing a game—like they were in a few days. 

With no games or pre-planned duties beforehand, it was easy for Jack and Luke to come up a little earlier than the rest of the team to spend a few days with Quinn. And he was glad to have them up in Vancouver. 

Sometimes, it was hard not to feel a little isolated during the season when both his brothers played for the same team and he was left by himself. He wouldn’t change playing for the Canucks, and he adored his team. But he also adored his brothers and maybe, just sometimes, he missed having them be the biggest pain in his ass. Only every once in a while though, not that he would ever admit that to their faces. 

But the distance between them and the chaos of the hockey season meant that sometimes it was hard to keep up to date with each other’s lives beyond the messages and odd phone calls they could slip in here or there. 

And, to his brothers’ defence, he probably should have told them about you before they arrived in Vancouver.

But the thing between you and Quinn started as a small experiment, no real labels and just a lot of fucking chemistry that both of you were willing to explore during the pre-season training. It didn’t seem like a big deal, or something worth telling his brothers about. 

Yet, the weeks went on and the relationship between you two grew stronger and, yeah, it took him a little bit longer than he cared to admit to grow the balls to ask you out. But he got to call you his now so he wasn’t all that bothered with the details.

But you being his girlfriend should have been a detail he shared with his brothers, along with the fact the night out to grab a drink at the local bar near his apartment wasn’t just a random decision but an opportunity to introduce you to them. 

And that really was the plan. 

However the second they walked into the bar, Jack and Luke had nabbed a table and didn’t give Quinn a chance to explain himself as they waited for his ‘friend’ to show up (not that Quinn used that word, once again, his brothers were just idiots who made assumptions). And Quinn was left staring helplessly at where you sat at the bar, sipping your drink as you probably waited for them to arrive. 

And just when Quinn was about to open his mouth again, his brothers picked up on his staring at the pretty girl by the bar and did what brothers do best—rip the absolute shit out of Quinn for thinking he even had a chance. 

And Quinn did what oldest brothers do best—he let them continue to embarrass themselves before he proved them both wrong after he had his fun with the situation. 

“Let’s make a bet,” Quinn said casually, knowing full well he was about to exploit the competitiveness that ran through all three of them.

Jack’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Go on.”

“I get her number and you both have to give me a hundred bucks,” he said as he glanced between his two brothers.

Luke’s brows furrowed together. “And if she rejects you?”

“I’ll give you both two hundred each,” Quinn stated. “And you get bragging rights that you were correct.”

“Deal,” Jack said without even thinking twice.

“Wait, wait,” Luke quickly spoke up, giving the boy an exasperated look before turning back to Quinn. “You can’t tell her anything about the bet though, that’s cheating.”

Quinn raised his brows. “You don’t think I’m a good sport?”

Luke just shrugged. “Just covering all our bases.”

“Now, go on and embarrass yourself!” Jack grinned as he slapped his older brother on the back in a faux comforting gesture. “We will totally not be recording you from way back here.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “You’re on.” 

The oldest Hughes said nothing more as he chugged the last dregs of his beer before stepping away from the table. His lips were pressed together to try and repress his grin as he walked away from his brothers and towards your spot at the bar. 

Something in his chest eased a little as he closed the distance between you, his fingers itching to just reach out and hold you close after barely seeing you over the last two days since his brothers arrived. The messages were not enough, not when he was selfish and spoiled having you around him almost every day since the spark between you two started.

“Hello, gorgeous.” 

Your head snapped around at the familiar voice, and instantly a smile broke out on your face when you saw your boyfriend sliding into the spot beside you. 

His fingers skimmed along the small of your back, the touch small and subtle before his warm palm was pressed against you. It was a comfort you grew to enjoy around Quinn, the fact he always needed to be touching you in some way, shape or form—even if he didn’t realise he was doing. Whether it was his knuckles skimming down your arm, or a hand resting on your ankle when you threw your feet on his lap during movie night, Quinn Hughes always liked the comfort of knowing you were there with him.

And after two days of not seeing you, the palm on the small of your back was almost like a reassurance you were actually sitting next to him and you were not running off again any time soon.

“Hey, baby,” you grinned as you turned on your stool, spreading your legs slightly so the boy could easily stand between them. “Where’s your brothers?”

“They grabbed a table by the back,” he said, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as it rode up slightly, exposing a small slit of skin along your back just above the waistband of your jeans. “You excited to meet them?”

“So excited I almost threw up on the way here,” you told him with a sheepish smile.

“They’re gonna love you,” Quinn reassured you. 

“Aren’t you meant to be better at giving pep talks?” You murmured as your hand itched to reach for his, to intertwine your fingers and hold onto him.

“Nah, that’s the captain’s job,” he murmured with a small grin before he nodded vaguely towards the table his brothers were at. “C’mon, gorgeous, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you deadpanned before straightening your spine. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“You ready?” He asked, his brows raised slightly.

“Absolutely not,” you breathed out with a shaky smile. “But that’s what the two margaritas I had before you got here were for.”

Quinn’s lips twitched upwards as he lifted his hand from your back, raising it to gently hold your face in both his palms instead. “It’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”

You leaned in before you overthought it, enjoying the first kiss you were able to get from him after over forty-eight hours of nothing. You sunk into his embrace, your fingers looped into the belt hoops of his jeans as you tugged him closer, a needy noise sounding from the back of your throat that had him smiling against your lips.

“Easy, tiger,” he murmured, his nose playfully nudging yours. 

“It was for confidence,” you said shamelessly as you pulled back, an innocent expression on his face.

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “Sure.”

The defenceman let you intertwine your hands together before he began to lead you through the bustling crowd at the bar, his hand squeezing yours to reassure you were behind him. But, his attention was momentarily drawn away from you as he noticed his brothers’ table a few feet away—and more importantly, the absolutely gobsmacked and baffled expressions both his younger brothers were wearing. 

Their jaws were hitting the table by the time Quinn stood on the other side, pulling you forward until his arm was wound around your waist to hold you close to his side.

“Guys, meet my girlfriend.”

Luke blinked, his face absolutely blank.

However, Jack’s reaction was a lot more animated.

“Girlfriend?!” Jack spluttered out before shaking his head, a noise mixed between a scoff and a laugh leaving his lips as he pointed between the two of you. “This is cheating! You were in cahoots!”

Your brows furrowed together in confusion. “Cahoots?”

“Cahoots!” Jack repeated passionately.

Quinn only shrugged, glancing at you before he glanced back towards his brothers. “Say what you want but I’m pretty sure I won the bet.” 

“The bet?” You questioned.

“They didn’t think you were in my league,” Quinn mused, a glint of mischief in his eyes that told you more than enough. It took mere seconds to put together what the boy had just pulled off, and you could only snort in response.

“You’re evil,” you murmured with a shake of your head.

“I agree with your girlfriend!” Jack huffed out as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Stop being dramatic, Rowdy.”

“You’re a cheat!” Jack shot back.

“Luke doesn’t seem to think so,” Quinn retorted, and all eyes turned to the youngest Hughes who looked up from his phone, a blush painted across his cheeks.

“Oh no, I think you’re a dirty cheat,” he said, his lips pressed together. “I was just messaging the family group chat so we don’t have to pay.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “Dick.”

“Be nice,” you playfully scolded with a shake of your head. “You were the one that tricked them.”

“Their fault for being stupid enough to fall for it,” Quinn shrugged.

“You never told us you had a girlfriend!”

“All I’m hearing is excuses.”

“That’s it, I’m calling mom.”

.

[faetima]

THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man

(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .

. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.

// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 

a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3

ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.

but last week had just solidified your beliefs.

you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.

words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.

and after that?

aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.

your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.

everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.

you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?

after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.

so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.

"i want to break up."

--

now, you were rethinking your decision.

on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.

you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.

you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.

but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.

but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.

marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.

you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.

--

it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.

you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.

you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.

at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.

--

aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.

he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.

horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.

he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.

maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?

--

aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.

he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?

he took a shaky inhale.

fuck it.

--

he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.

he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.

[aismoker]

Playing for the winning team

David had always wanted to become a professional soccer player. had been invited to a company to discuss the possibilities of a sponsorship.

When he had receivedthe invitation, David was excited, but now sitting in front of a representative of his potential sponsor, Marlboro, he wasn't so sure anymore. He hated smoking, but deep inside he knew that the opportunity to get a sponsor wouldn't come a second time. He once more read the contract. There was a lot that he didn't understand.

Suddenly the representative spoke, with a cold emotionless voice: "So, what's it going to be?" David looked up at the man. In his opinion the man represented everything that evil corporatism stood for. Deep inside he knew that he shouldn't sign the contract. That getting involved with this sponsor was everything he was against. But on the other hand, it would probably be the only way to realize his dream to break through as a soccer player. It would probably be easier to get another sponsor once he was in the circuit...

"You know there will not come a better deal," the representative said, whike exhaling a cloud of smoke towards David, "just sign it. You won't regret it." David took up the pen. "I'll sign." After he signed and the pen left the paper, David had the feeling this was the worst decision he had ever made.

He put the pen back and looked up again. The representative smiled a cold cruel smile. His eyes seemed to glow red. "Welcome to the team." He then gave a sign to two men that had been standing silently in the room all the time that David had been there. They walked up to him and grabbed David forcefully. "What the fuck!" David shouted. "Nothing to worry about, they will take you to Introduction," the man said, still smiling at David.

The men that had grabbed David, started to drag him towards an elevator. David tried to fight, but they were too strong. They had grips of steel. They shoved him into the elevator and went down. David was desperate. What had he done?!? He tried to fight again, but the men that hokd him didn't move a muscle, literally. They didn't move. They just stood there motionless. Only the heaving of their chests as they took rythmical drags of their cigarettes indicated that they weren't statues.

The elevator went down deeper and deeper. When the doors opened, the men dragged David out into a metallic hallway. They went into a large room. In it, there were rows and rows of pod-like devices. Most of them seemed to be off, but several seemed to be working, as a humming noise came from them and clouds of smoke hung above them. David was dragged to an empty pod and locked in. David had no power to fight anymore. Desperation took over. "Please, let me go. I will do anything!" But the men didn't respond. They pushed a button and left him.

A helmet started to lower over his head. One last time, David tried to get out. To no avail. When the helmet covered his head, he heard a metalic click and he saw the Marlboro-logo light up on the display in front of his eyes.

6 WEEKS LATER

With a hissing sound, the pod opened. Out stepped David. He grabbed a pack of Reds that was lying on a table and expertedly lit up. For the last few weeks he had done exactly the same. He looked at himself in the mirror and admired again his new team uniform. Gone were his fears and reservations. He understood now. He had been enlightened. Made better. He was now part of the team. Marlboro was now taking care of him. He lived now in the training facility, together with the other members of Team Marlboro, to train for the upcoming soccer season. Thanks to Marlboro, he could now do the thing he loved most: playing soccer. In fact, he knew now that soccer had become even better, as he was no longer doing it to gain personal renown. No, he was now doing it for something bigger, something better than himself. By playing soccer, he could spread the joy of Marlboro, making sure the team would keep growing.

4 MONTHS LATER

The soccer season had ended and there they stood. Team Marlboro had won!

It had been uncommon season. From the very first match, David and his fellow team members had dominated the field. They were so synchronized to each other that it seemed that they were all part of one well-oiled machine.

The team had caused some commotion though. Their first match had been postponed, because the team had entered all with cigarettes in their mouths on the field. The referee had to go through the rule book, but couldn't find any rule that forbade smoking during a match, so there was no reason to cancel the game. Team Marlboro won that day with 17-0.

That was not the only unusual thing that happened that season. The season saw also an unusual number of irregular transfer. After each match, the star players of the opposing teams received invitations for a tour of the Marlboro Training facility. A few weeks after the tour, they usually announced that they had decided to leave their current team, because they wanted to be part of the winning team. Marlboro of course paid all the fines. Eachbtime it happened, their official statement was: "We of Marlboro are delighted that Mr. [so-and-so] has decided to join our team. We accept everyone with open arms."

This all didn't go unnoticed by the media. At first they ridiculed the team, for non-stop smoking. After that, as the success and renown of the team started to grow, they started to accuse the team members of using illegal performance enhancing drugs. Some outlets became openly hostile towards them. To stop this, Marlboro had invited all sports hournalists to the Training Facility. After that, most of the smear articles were retracted and replaced by articles stressing the team spirit and unity of team Marlboro, praising the dedication Marlboro showed for the team and that this was the future of sports.

But that was in the past. Now the team stood there, with the cup in their hands. They didn't feel happy, just grateful for Marlboro that they were part of the team. The cup didn't mean anything to them. Ever since they had become part of the team, they had known they had become part of the winning team. Thanks to Marlboro, their aspirations had become so much bigger than winning a piece of metal. Their goal was now to make sure that everyone would know the joy and bliss of Marlboro.

8 MONTHS LATER

Due to the victory of Team Marlboro, the sale of Team Marlboro merchandise sky-rocketed, just like the sale of cigarettes. And the hype didn't die out over time. On the contrary, the numbers increased each month.

Of course, Marlboro had expected this and was well prepared for the next step in the plan. Everywhere in the country new Training Facilities popped up, organizing training camps. Men flocked to them like moths to a flame. They all wanted to become part of the winning team.

Here you see the latest batch. They just finished the training camp. They were ready to play for the winnong team and spread the joy of Marlboro.

[vitalverstappen]

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - C. Leclerc

summary: after Charles broke your heart... again... you figured it was time to get your life together

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings: drinking, swearing i think?, simping for a man

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

the tortured drivers' department masterlist

You walked into your apartment to find your on and off boyfriend, Charles, sitting on the couch, staring at the TV. It was the third time you two were together, and things were going great up until recently. Up until the past week, the two of you clicked, just like two puzzle pieces. But now, the dates were few and far between, the texts were one or two words each, and the spark wasn’t there like it had been a few months prior. 

“Hi” You greeted as you set the groceries on the counter.

“How was shopping, amour?” Charles asked,his eyes still glued to the screen and his voice seemed to lack any real care. 

You chose to ignore it, knowing if you questioned him, it would lead to another argument. “It was good. I got everything we need for dinner tonight” 

Silence overcame the two of you as you put the groceries away. The only sound in the room came from the soccer match on the TV. Once you were done with the groceries, you sat down on the couch next to Charles. 

“Who’s playing?” You asked 

Charles motioned to the screen in front of you “Monaco and Lyon” He huffed 

You nodded, clearly getting the message he didn’t want to talk. The two of you were quiet until the half ended.

“I think we need to talk” Charles spoke, breaking the silence as the players rushed off the field. His eyes were much softer than before, with his face covered in concern.

Here we go again. 

Those six words were always the beginning of the end - a tell tale sign he was going to pull the trigger. 

“We’ve both been so busy the past few months, we’ve barely had time for each other. The spark isn’t there anymore. I think it’s best if we end it.” He said 

And there it was. 

As much as you wanted to argue and fight for the relationship like an army doll, you knew it would be in vain. You had tried to fight for your relationship before, all to end up separated anyway. So, as you barely fought back the tears forming in the corner of your eyes, a small plastic smile formed on your lips. 

“Yeah, I get it.” Was all you were able to get out 

“Thanks for understanding. We’ll both be better off”

Within the next two weeks, Charles had moved his things out of your apartment and loneliness filled the air instead. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. In fact, sulking just as you did the last time you two broke up, was almost comforting. 

You were laying on your couch in misery, watching your favorite rom-com and nursing a carton of ice cream. Was it stereotypical? Yes. Did you care? Absolutely not. Your head turned to the door as you heard a key rattle in the lock.

Charles?

“Alright, that’s it y/n. You’ve been sulking in here forever” y/bf/n said as she swung open the door to your apartment. 

It was times like this where you regretted giving her a key. A sigh escaped your lips as you sunk back into the couch cushions. The sound of her footsteps echoed as she made her way to you. 

“Being sad for this long isn’t healthy. You haven’t left your apartment in weeks. We’re all worried about you.” She continued

“I’ll be fine” You mumble “It’s just the worst thing about a break up is losing your best friend” 

“Yeah, the ‘best friend’ that wants nothing to do with you. I’m still here. The worst part is that you’re not gonna see his dog,” She said. You didn’t respond as you took another spoonful of ice cream. 

“Is that LEC?” Y/bf/n grabbed the carton out of your hand. “Why are you eating LEC?” 

“I didn’t wanna waste it” You mumbled. Even though Charles was the creator of the brand, it was really good ice cream. 

“Whatever” Y/bf/n mumbled as she handed you the carton again. “This isn’t the gym rat, adventure seeking, life loving y/n that we all know and love” 

“And who knows if she’s ever going to come back” You said as you turned your attention back to the movie that was playing 

Y/bf/n grabbed the remote and paused the movie, causing you to let out a groan. “No. We are getting her back, whether you like it or not. We are not letting a boy break you like a cheap toy.” 

The wheels started to turn in your mind. Charles did break you like a cheap toy. But once something’s broken, it gets fixed. And once it gets fixed, it gets used again. 

You sit up and look at your best friend. “Yeah, I need to fix myself.”

The progress started slow and with physical changes in your life. Instead of binge watching romance movies, you were taking a walk everyday. Instead of ordering takeout, you were making dinner at home. 

The changes then began to be mental. You had started journaling and going to therapy. Talking out your thoughts and feelings about the “on and off” again tragedy helped you get to a better spot. What started as fixing yourself to get him back, ended with you finding yourself again. 

It wasn’t easy and it sure took a long time, but finding yourself was the best thing that you could’ve done. 

A few months later, your group of friends decided to go out to Jimmy’z for the night. Clubbing wasn’t really your thing, but your friends had insisted you join them just once. 

And so you agreed, which is how you found yourself at the bar, a few vodka crans deep. As the bass boomed through your heart, you found yourself dancing like there was no tomorrow. Nothing, or no one, could ruin your night. 

Or so you thought. 

Hours after you had entered the club, you saw a group you knew all too well. Only four of the twenty possible guys were there but that was four more than you wanted. 

It was only a matter of time until you saw them - a handful of them did live in Monaco afterall. However, you had managed to avoid them for the past year, you were hoping you could push it one more night. 

You watched as the four guys made their way from the entrance, all the way to the bar. They practically parted the crowd as they walked through the packed club. Everyone knew who they were. 

“I’m gonna go outside for a minute. I need some fresh air” You told y/bf/n. You didn’t even wait to see her response as you turned and headed towards the patio. 

The chilly air sent a shock through your system as you walked outside. Even though it was summer, the sun was long gone and the sea was close, making it much colder. Only a handful of people were outside, which you were thankful for. 

It was the week between races, and Charles, Max, Lando, and Pierre all decided to pay a visit to their favorite club in Monaco - Jimmy’z. They made their way to the bar, and one by one, they got their drinks. 

Lando was the first one to spot your group of friends from across the club. You were nowhere to be found, but Lando was still a blabbermouth. 

“Y/n’s friends are here” Lando yelled over the blaring music to Max and Pierre

Max’s eyes widened and he glanced at Charles, who was still at the bar, then back to Lando, almost asking if you were with them. 

“Haven’t seen her” Lando continued “Just her friends”

“We should still be careful though.” Pierre chimed in “She could be in the bathroom or something” 

Charles finally got his drink and joined the three boys “Shall we go outside?” 

The second Charles got out to the patio, he wanted to turn around. He knew your silhouette like the back of his hand.The other guys seemed to notice as well, with all of their eyes on the Ferrari driver. 

“I didn’t think y/n would be here” He said 

You found yourself staring out at the sea, watching the waves crash on the shore as you tried to think of a plan out of here without seeing the guys. 

The train of thought was cut off by the feeling of an arm snaking around your waist. One you knew a little too well. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone out here?” An all too familiar voice slurred. 

Here we go again. 

You turned to find yourself face to face with Charles. The three other boys were off at a table on the patio, completely oblivious to what was going on. You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you took in the Monegasques features for the first time in a year. He had the same tousled black hair and charming smile, but he clearly put on more muscle and carried himself with the confidence of a god.

“Hey Charles” You said trying to calm yourself 

“Y/n, it’s been a while” He replied as he took in all of your features “You look amazing.” 

The two of you chatted about your lives since the split. Work, friends, traveling: the usual. It was a matter of time until the inevitable was asked. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been good. I can’t really complain.” Charles said and a lull formed between you. He took a careful breath before speaking again “Are you seeing anyone?” 

There it was. 

“No, I’m not. I haven’t really been focusing on dating” You answered

A small smile formed on Charles’ lips. You could see his wheels turning as you returned the question, solely out of politeness. 

“I’m not either.” He paused, his green eyes meeting yours and his hand taking yours, “I realized I had made a mistake letting you go last year. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left. Would you be willing to give me another chance?” 

You had imagined the day you would see Charles and the rest of the grid again, but that was when you were still miserable on your couch. The plan was that once you “fixed yourself” he would see how much better you were and how he was an idiot for leaving you. You imagined him admitting his mistake and asking to try again. But now that you were in that moment, you realized you didn’t figure out what would happen after. 

A year ago, you would have jumped at the opportunity to try again with him. No hesitation, you would have said yes. 

But that was then, and Charles is asking you a full year later. A year of tears, therapy sessions, working out, and reconnecting with friends. A year of finding yourself after the rollercoaster that was Charles Leclerc. 

“Look Char,” you began, taking a breath, reassuring yourself this was the right decision. “I had so much fun when we were together. I truly thought we were playing for keeps each time we got back together, but it ended up destroying me. I finally found myself, and I can’t stand to lose her again.” 

Charles nodded, taking in your words. “I get it. I’ll see you around, y/n” 

He began to turn and walk away, but something possessed you to reach for him. 

“Charles, wait” You grabbed his wrist, causing him to stop. His full attention was back on you.

“What?” He asked, annoyance filling his voice 

“We can still be friends. I do miss having you around.” 

“I’d like that actually. Start completely fresh” He replied, reaching out his hand

“And whatever happens, happens” You agreed, taking his stretched out hand and following his lead to his friends. 

The next morning, you found yourself back in your apartment, tucked in your own bed. Pounding filled your head, proof that last night wasn’t a dream - you were starting fresh with Charles. Last night replayed in your head, from getting to the bar, all the way to Charles walking you home. Reaching for your phone, you noticed a text from a certain Monegasque. 

Charlie: It was good seeing you y/n/n. Let me know when you’re free, summer break is around the corner.

You: Same :) I’m free most evenings and weekends, so keep me updated!

It took a half hour of battling the headache, but you eventually got yourself out of bed. Once you got to the living room, you found y/bf/n, along with all of your other friends lounging. 

“I really need to change the locks” You muttered to yourself 

“What the hell happened last night?” Y/bf/n asked “You say you’re going outside and all of a sudden Charles is walking you home?”

“It isn’t what you think” You said 

“What happened to the healing girl plot?” 

You threw your hands up in defense “Look, we were both drunk, but you should’ve seen the way he looked at me” 

“Y/n…” Was all that came out of your best friend’s mouth 

“We didn’t hook up or anything. We’re starting fresh. As friends.” You explained 

The next week consisted of you and Charles constantly texting, catching up on the year that the two of you missed. You finally got the chance to congratulate him on winning in Monaco, while he finally got the chance to ask about how your family was doing. 

Summer break finally came, and you found yourself constantly spending time with Charles (and Leo of course). Grabbing coffee, yachting, and clubbing became a routine of sorts, always ending with him walking you home, but never staying over. 

As the break progressed, you could see how much Charles had changed over the course of the year, just as you had. He was more open with talking about his struggles in F1, and more comfortable with showing his softer side in public. He was even more respectful to not push the limits, no matter how many times you saw him staring at you in your bikini. This wasn’t the same Charles who had broken up with you over a year prior. 

He knew you were a die hard Ferrari fan, long before you even met him, so he flew you out to Monza and even gifted you with a paddock pass. Though you had spent plenty of races in the Ferrari garage, being back after a split always made you nervous. Carlos, Fred and the rest of the garage always made you feel welcome, but the nerves seemed to spike more now that you and Charles weren’t even together. 

“If the fans see me, they’re gonna start saying we’re back together” You told him 

“I know, y/n/n, but remember how much you love Monza. Don’t let some petty rumors ruin your experience.” Charles reassured you “If you need anything, or need to rant, don’t hesitate to come get me,” 

“You have a race to win, I’m not going to distract you” You said 

“This race is nowhere near as important as your mental health. Come get me if you need anything” He repeated “I mean that” 

“Thank you Cha” You said, giving the driver a hug. After you wished him well on the race, you watched as he went about his day, just like you had time and time again years ago.

Sure enough, the tweets about you rolled in, ranging from support that the two of you were back together, to extreme hate that you wouldn’t even wish on your worst enemies. None of it mattered though as you repeated the words that Charles spoke to you in your head and watched as he drove the race of his life. 

With the rest of the Ferrari garage, you found yourself running to the barricade to watch Charles celebrate his victory. After jumping out of his car, he ran to his team, but the second he pulled away, he spotted you a few feet down, and he darted over. 

“Congrats Char!” You smiled 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming” He replied, overjoyed with emotion 

He engulfed you into a hug that you had grown so familiar with the past few weeks. With the TV broadcast and the cameras flashing, you knew that you were going to get attention and hate for being here, but you didn’t care. Your best friend won the most important race to him and the Tifosi. 

That night, you found yourself scrolling through social media, looking at all of the photos from Charles’ win. Eventually, you found yourself on Charles’ profile, where there was a post you weren’t expecting:

charles_leclerc: While I’m blessed to have a passionate fanbase, I ask that everyone respects y/n’s and I’s privacy. Our private life is just that: private. Thank you.

Years ago, Charles wouldn’t have made a statement. He would have told you that it’s a part of his job and to move on. But again, that was years ago, and this was a completely different Charles. 

The rest of the season came and went, with you and Charles calling, texting, and seeing each other as much as possible with his busy schedule. Before you knew it, he was back in Monaco for the next three months. Going out for coffee, yachting, and clubbing all picked back up. 

One night after going to Jimmy’z with the grid, Charles had walked you home like usual. The only difference was that this time, he was the one who drank a little too much and was stumbling his way to your apartment. 

The two of you got to the lobby of your building, and Charles was getting ready to get himself back to the streets of Monaco to find his way home. You knew you couldn’t leave him like this though. Guilt would consume you if you didn’t know if he was safe. 

“Do you wanna stay the night, Char?” You asked 

His glossy eyes softened at your invitation, as if he knew he couldn’t make it home in the state he was in. “Only if you don’t mind, chérie” He slurred 

“I insist, I need you safe” 

And so the two of you made your way up to your apartment, just like the two of you had done years prior. Except this time, there was no tension between you. No messy makeout session in the elevator, and no plans on what exactly would happen the second you got to your unit. 

Even though drunk Charles argued it to no end, you insisted that he take your bed. He was worse off and needed the better night’s rest. Eventually he obliged, and you found yourself falling asleep on your couch. 

The next morning, you woke suddenly to the clanging of metal. Jolting up from your spot on the couch, you saw Charles frozen in your kitchen with a pan in his hand. 

“I am so sorry” He whispered “I wanted to make you breakfast as a thank you” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. “Only you would even try to cook. Here, let me help you” 

The two of you worked in tandem as you whisked up homemade pancakes for breakfast. As you manned the stove, you found Charles wrapping his arms around your waist. As if it was muscle memory, you leaned into him, getting a whiff of his leftover cologne from the night before. Though you had sworn off getting back with him, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

SInce that morning, you could tell something had shifted in both of your heads. Charles began to make the hangouts more “date-like” without the label. And even though you had a feeling he was planning something, you didn’t dare question or bring it up. Whatever happens, happens. Remember?

The next week, you found yourself on the rocky cliffs on the outskirts of Monte Carlo with Charles. He had planned a picnic just to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Charles packed your favorite foods and even brought your favorite type of flowers. 

“I can’t believe you remembered all of this” You said as you popped a grape into your mouth 

“I never forgot it, y/n/n” He replied “I know we started this whole ordeal as ‘just friends’ and ‘going with the flow’ but the past few months have been the most amazing months I’ve had in a long time. I was wondering if you felt the same”

Your eyes drifted out to sea as you processed his words, underlying meaning and all. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the past few months. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling back in love with your best friend. 

The past still haunted you though. The fear that Charles would flip a switch and the whole ordeal would crash and burn still lingered in your mind. 

But then you turned to face Charles again and saw a completely different man. The man that was sitting in front of you begging for your love was not the same man who had broken your heart years prior. You may have changed and healed from the past, but so did he. 

You broke the silence with a chuckle, catching Charles slightly off guard, “Charl, I’ve had the time of my life getting to know you again. I did miss having you around so much”

Hope sprinkled through Charles’ eyes as he asked the question you were expecting to hear, “So would you be willing to try again? May I be your boyfriend”

“I would love that” You replied but then stuck a finger up “On one condition” 

“Anything, ange”

“This is the last time we’re trying. If it works, we’re staying together. If it doesn’t, I don’t think I can handle being treated like a broken toy again” 

“Deal” He smiled “Anything to make it work this time”