#it's just really hitting me that i have to prepare for the way jean's story is going to rip my heart out

[joanofexys]

actually nora's latest post really made it hit that tsc is real and it's coming out this week and we are actually getting this book and i am going to be sick oh my god

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[l-in-the-light]

I love the Heart Pirates 🥰♥️. Would you write sth for the relationship Law and his crew (especially Bepo🐻)? Does Law love his crew just the same as he loves Cora?

Sure, this will be that post :D there isn't that many Hearts Pirates scenes in the manga, so it will probably end up being more Hearts appreciation post than strict analysis :) but I will do my best! Also I will use some neat quotes from the novel, in case you want to skip those they're all written in italics so it's easy to avoid them!

Also really sorry it took me forever to get to this ask!

Let's introduce our power rangers Sora-fanboying crew. That idea probably got born all the way back in the North Blue, when Law, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi were living together as children and sharing stories and talking into late night hours before falling asleep.

First of all, Hearts Pirates are strategists. All crewmates know their roles they have to play in a battle. There's always someone responsible for the Polar Tang, usually it's Hakugan (taking care of the ship so it doesn't get damaged is essential, because that ship is not only their means of travelling but also their home). There are people responsible for providing cover (Shachi and Penguin, Law's most trusted guys besides Bepo). There is a bodyguard - Jean Bart (or should I call him a tank? :D), making sure Law doesn't get hit when preparing powerful counterattacks.

Second of all, the biggest strength of Heart Pirates isn't their individual feats, fighting skills or not even their ace in the sleeve - the overpowered captain. Their true strength lies in their teamwork. They always work like a team, supporting each other and cooperating to help Law win his battles.

Hearts are apparently very strong in sea battles. Seems their usual strategy is to go for sinking the enemy's ship (very sly and effective). They're also good at fighting in the water, which is refreshing in comparison to many other crews depending solely on devil fruits powers.

Also RIP Polar Tang :(

Bepo has actually the most jobs to do, surprisingly. He's the navigator, he's the main attacker who often plays support for Law, but he also uses his mink/animal senses to track down enemies and instruct where each crewmate is needed! He's definitely very reliable.

“Sorry, I got nothing. If only I was a smarter polar bear… I’m no use, I should just disappear.”

“Hah hah! Just having strong legs doesn’t make you the best at peddling, Bepo. Man, you really are clumsy. You were so wobbly I thought for sure you were going to crash. It was scary just watching you!”

“Hm, you’re right. I wonder why I can’t ride a bike to save my life… I’ll just leave and figure my life out then.”

Despite Bepo's poor self-esteem, he's a really good fighter. Bepo's kung-fu (bear-fu? :D) fighting style is so unique too. Law often trusts him to "take care of things". Bepo has also one more powerful ace up his sleeve, his sulong form, though apparently he can't control it at all. It's only thanks to Chopper's rumble ball that Bepo was able to control his form for the very first time, without even a full moon visible in the sky.

Of course Bepo is also a very outstanding navigator. I mean, I dare you all to try to draw a better map with those huge paws! They're not exactly suited to hold a pen!

I do have to mention though that Law had a momentary pause before finding their current location ("around here") on this map, haha. He would never admit it though. He's so proud of his navigator! Also, keeping that map with him must have made Law happy, because he got reminded of Bepo even when he wasn't with him.

It's so tattered too and needed some tapes ;-;

Bepo is also, sort of, second in command after Law. He's responsible for new recruits who work directly under him. That gives us some sort of insight in how the hierarchy works in Hearts crew. There is Law whose word is absolute, then Bepo, then Shachi and Penguin, then the rest, then the fresh recruits.

It's not quite like in Strawhats where everyone is more or less equal in their positions. Even in the novel Law sometimes calls them friends and sometimes underlings, but in Punk Hazard and Egghead he instead calls them "nakama" (his crewmates, companions), so that apparently has changed at some point as Law grew up.

These two are my subordinates! I won’t let scum like you call them “things”!

I let out a large sigh. I have to keep it together. I have to protect my underlings. My friends.

Bepo, Penguin, Shachi. I told you to be my underlings, so I have a responsibility as your boss.

As much as Law treats his Heart Pirates as equals, his responsibility over them makes him take a higher position over them. But he doesn't interfere much in how they organize things around each other. Bepo took it on himself to be the second in command and Law never protested or questioned that. Basically their importance in the crew is based on the order in which they joined.

“Hold on, both of you ate three pieces and I only had two! You guys are new here, so you should be putting me first!” (Bepo complains while Law thinks to himself:) I should have just given them all equal portions to begin with instead of piling everything on a single plate; that’s what I think as I quietly shovel my fourth piece into my mouth.

Law himself is a bit sneaky, he might think he should make sure things are more equal around his crew, but at the end of the day he just doesn't do anything about it. They're free to do whatever they want. That's the type of captain he is.

When Wolf is out of the house, the four of us work on the farm, go fishing, clean, and do the laundry. During free time, each of us will focus on the things we want to do. I spend most of my time reading medical books and learning how to use my power. Bepo uses his time to study navigation. Penguin and Shachi simply have a desire to get stronger. But since their way of doing things didn’t allow them to improve, I had to borrow weapons from Wolf and teach them swordsmanship and gunnery. Seeing someone I'm teaching getting better at it is more rewarding than I thought it would be. Whenever I see how happy Penguin or Shachi are when they hit the bullseye, I can’t help but smile.

Law also trained them all by himself.

But back to Bepo. He's also a bit of a silly bear who needs to be looked after. He doesn't stand the heat very well, he's a bit of a slow thinker, he also panicks very easily and often calls out to Law to save him or stay with him. And that feeling is usually mutual, because Law also wants to take care of him:

“Don’t worry, Bepo. Even if you get injured and covered in blood, I’ll fix you up at the clinic.”

“Assuming I do get injured! Aye-aye!”

Hah hah. What a goof.

Bepo is a bit like a younger sibling to Law, he can be strong but also very clumsy and silly, and it for sure appeals to Law's protective side. He kinda stepped up (it was probably subconsciously) to be a temporary older brother figure for him in absence of Zepo. He was ready to throw away his Wano's raid plans just because Bepo had a stomachache and asked him to stay by his side. Bepo is also the only person Law has any sort of physical closeness with. Those two grew really close with each other.

But Bepo is dependable when it matters. He was also a guardian of Whale Forest back on Zou, so Law isn't the only one who recognizes that quality in Bepo.

“Law, I brought you some hot tea. It’s made with tea from the old man’s garden. He said it helps calm nerves.”

“Thank you, Bepo.”

“No problem. You’ve been having nightmares a lot lately.”

“I know. I must be worrying Penguin and Shachi too.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?” Bepo asked with an earnest look on his face.

“No; right now, I can’t get my own thoughts together, sorry.”

“It’s fine. But I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

Law is close friends with Penguin and Shachi as well, but it seems it's Bepo he confides in most of the time. It might be because Bepo shows his concern and care very openly, making it especially hard for Law to refuse or dismiss it. And it's a good thing, because Law really needs someone openly caring and loving like Bepo in his life.

Bepo is clearly higher in command than Penguin and Shachi, and they both respect him despite the rocky beginning of their friendship:

“That's what you thought while they beat you?”

“Yes. I thought if I let them do it, maybe we could become friends.” Friends. It’s a word I hadn't heard in a long time. I no longer have any. They were all burned in a fire. (…) As my mind wanders, I begin to wonder why a polar bear is here, alone. Actually, if I think about it, he’s probably just like I had been before. I've become a little more interested in his situation.

Law's crew respects him and looks up to him, but they also voice out their own opinions and approvals or lack there of. They also occassionally allow themselves some really lewd comments, like in the picture above :D I bet you anything they would also call out Law on acting cute if they saw him with Chopper strapped to his head.

Damn, Penguin even looks like he's a bit jealous of Chopper's position. They fanboy Law so much despite being slightly older than him!

Shachi and Penguin are Law's intel and watchers. Penguin seems to be the smarter one out of the two of them, basing it on the rational comments he makes. But Shachi's skills in the water are also nothing to sneeze at! And as a bonus skill, Shachi apparently cuts the hair for others in the crew.

“Hey, you two.” I call Shachi and Penguin calmly. “You have nowhere to go, do you? I know you can't go back to your relatives' house either.”

“That is the only place we would never return to.”

“Alright; then you won't. Be my subordinates. And for now, you can live here.”

The four of us—myself, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi—have experienced immense loneliness in this world, and somehow managed to overcome despair.

I think it's possible Law recruited everyone in his crew in similar fashion (of course his first three friends remain special regardless). He seems to have easier time to relate to people who know how despair feels like and he wants to help them leave that feeling behind, to see things from a different perspective, to show them that no matter what, there are still probably other ways out, and if there aren't, he will make one happen.

Heart Pirates are also responsible for lesser tasks so that Law himself doesn't have to do it, like keeping an eye on Luffy.

Some Hearts, like Clione, Uni and Ikkaku even disagreed with the idea of the alliance. At first I thought Law told his crew that they don't have to get along with the Strawhats, because he respected that some might feel uncomfortable doing that, but nah, in the end it was just payback for Luffy not introducing Law to his own crew properly.

It's not the only time Law's crew complained to him so directly. When they were supposed to enter the New World, Law told them they need to wait and that they need to shut up and listen to him, because they should trust his plans. Despite his crew's big enthusiasm and competitive spirit, they were actually a bit scared to enter the New World, because when they saw beasts in the calm belt they definitely panicked a bit. So Law's decision was probably the right course of action.

Bepo also isn't afraid to scold his captain, when Law stares at yonko instead of escaping Marineford or when he chooses to drop down the waterfall in Wano. Law always seems to win each and every time tho. They also have no fear on calling him out for showing off ;)

Let's not forget that despite the fact that Heart Pirates can voice their complains openly, they were still kinda left in the dark and learned about the alliance from the newspaper. Ouchie, Law :D Nami might have a point when she said Law is just like Luffy.

They're very loyal, not only to Law, but to each other as well. They also share their duties on Polar Tang, like cleaning or maintaining the submarine, all together.

“You… no, the lot of you can really help others without asking anything in return, huh.” (Wolf about Law, Shachi, Penguin and Bepo)

Shachi, Penguin and Bepo always accompany Law wherever he goes.

His whole crew protects him whenever they can.

And of course they love him so much. Law might be a grumpy captain, but he for sure returns the love he received from them, in his own way. Let's not forget Bepo, Penguin and Shachi were there for him when he lost everyone again, after what happened to Cora-san. They basically supported each other in their biggest time of need.

Despite some of them protesting, they all get along with Strawhats in that alliance in the end :) Hearts are also very fun loving people, who definitely like to party :D

Law might be quite overprotective about his crew, but he does trust them enough to take care of themselves and pick their own battles in the Onigashima's raid. Hearts also worry for Law a lot and cheer him on and celebrate his won battles ❤

“Hmph. Well, alright then. It’s just that when you’re not feeling well, the rest of the lot are out of it too.” (Wolfe said this to Law, suggesting that whenever Law is feeling under the weather, it affects his friends)

I have to act strong. I have to act cool. If I stay gloomy in this situation, the other three will continue to live in fear. I can’t let that happen. (Law to himself)

At first Law didn't think much about his responsibility over his crew, he learned that along the way and thanks to Wolf's guidance. He decided to do everything he can so he can protect his friends and show them that they can rely on him, and they make sure to return the favour.

Now let's take a moment to celebrate Penguin and Shachi being little horny perverts ;)

In the end, I'm the only one scolded by Wolf. Bepo and the other two look at me like they are sorry, but I know that tomorrow things will be exactly the same. Since we’ve been living together, I’ve learned that these three will forget their transgressions in a day’s time.

This is probably another reason why Law chooses to ignore most of Hearts antics :D

I gotta say Shachi is certainly having hots for Penguin, basing it on this image ;) or at least he would be even more into him if he had, well, bigger tits.

Now we all know Law left his crew on Zou so that Doflamingo doesn't use them against him in the fight. But did you ever wonder why Law recruited Jean Bart into his crew? Saving a slave is one thing, but taking him into his crew is another. I think Law cares for his crew so much that he recruited someone strong and experienced as a captain who can take care of them in case Law can't (in time of need when he's missing in action, but also in case something went horribly wrong and they would be left without a captain). Recruiting Jean Bart was a strategic move and I believe it's to make sure someone takes care of the Heart Pirates in Law's absence.

“I definitely want to see my brother," Bepo said after a long silence. “It’s fun living here with everyone and all, but sometimes I think of him. I wonder if he’s doing okay, or if something happened to him. That’s why I’ve continued studying navigation since I got here. I’m terrible at it, but I can finally draw maps. So I definitely want to set out to find my brother some day, I think.”

This is one of the reasons why Heart Pirates ventured into Grand Line, besides Law's motivation to fullfill Cora-san's wish. He actually made sure to fullfill Bepo's wish before his very own one!

And finally, to answer your second question in the ask: does Law love his Heart Pirates as much as he loves Cora-san? I will allow Law to speak for himself, quoting the novel:

What was Cora-san for me? We had no blood relationship, and we didn't even know each other that long. Yet somehow, we were family. A love that could be felt without even putting it into words. I was wondering if I could love someone like that again. If I stay with Junk-ya and the bear, can I come to love them? Or will it continue to be a give and take relationship, as the old man says, where we just use each other?

After Wolf signed his name, we all followed suit. Seeing all our names next to each other on the paper, it’s strange. It is almost like we were a family.

Actually, we all looked happy, myself included. This place is definitely irreplaceable to me, I realized once again.

I can’t keep looking backwards; I have to move forward. Together with the happiness of being with friends, no matter how much I waver.

I found some salted fish that was on sale, so I bought it. In my head popped the pleasantly surprised faces of Bepo and the old man, and the expressions I imagined soon became my own.

Two months have flown by since the five of us started this life together. Eating meals, bathing, thinking of games to play, and bullshitting together under the same roof. It's the type of life I had never experienced until now.

But I have friends now—I have people who can allow me to forget the pain and the rage by distracting me with stupid things. That’s all I need.

And in case you wonder how did Law ask them to become a pirate crew together, here you go:

“I'll be leaving the island in a week. What do you want to do?” I ask them the question, trying to stay as natural as possible. “I will not force you to do anything. You can very well continue to lead the same life, to eat with the old man by exchanging jokes and get on with your job in town. Only, if… if you ever… wanted to come, then… that… that would help me a lot.”

(and after they all enthusiasthically agree:)

“Alright, I know I can count on you. That's all I'm saying.”

And from that moment on, Law gives them a name: Heart Pirates. Because they're a crew that belongs to Law, but also to Cora-san, and that's the meaning behind the name. If Cora-san lived, Hearts would be *his* crew as well. In some alternative reality, they could all be happy together sailing the seas.

So I guess, my final answer is: Law loves them because he found friends in them, his new family, and he wished he could share this happiness with Cora-san as well. I doubt there are many people out there who would get that privileage! Heart Pirates are definitely irreplaceable to him.

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .4

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mutual masturbation; Come eating; Angst; Vague mention of abortion; Discussions of child neglect; Discussions of unwanted pregnancy

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Some of this is so… phew… idk what came over me or how i come up with some of this shit. sorry (but not really). Joel’s a little nasty in this beware

Art is by Denis Sarazhin.

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

.4

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

To think that despite his momentary acquiescence to your need for space, he was not, afterwards, made into a raving, snarling beast prowling its cage after having tasted you, would be fallacy – because that was what he was calling it in his mind, for now. Not yet ready to accept it within himself as a full blown rejection, so yes, for now, space, time.

He returns home with Sarah after the lakehouse – Eva gone off with her girlfriends on an extension of the weekend, wanting to draw out the farewell to summer just a little longer – to their routine of lunches and snacks and daycare and evenings playing mermaids and dinosaurs in the little pool in the backyard that he’d gotten for her at HEB. He tries to be good, to remain calm, controlled, but it’s just short of impossible. He feels as though he still has the taste of you on the surface of his tongue, the sounds of your moans ringing in his ears at all hours of the day, in bed at night, hard and aching and alone, wanting you. This turns out to be a different type of hell to the one he’s usually used to, that of monotony and loneliness and resentment. No, this is burning and painful, a type of fire that whips through his arteries and chars his bones and leaves him dizzy and disoriented.

He’s never experienced something like this before. Not in his entire life. 

It is not easy, per se, but productive, to lose himself in his work, and the start of Sarah’s school year. She’s in a 3K program for the fall, her first time going to a real school, and the work and preparation and pure fucking anxiety induced at the thought of his baby going to such a big school is overwhelming. No small feat to accomplish all on his own. 

But at night, after he’s worked himself into the ground all day, and read Sarah her bedtime story, at least three times, sometimes up to seven, but never passing ten, that was their very strict rule, and tucked her in and checked the closet and under the bed and behind the door for monsters, when he’s finally found himself alone and quiet and with a spare, but infinitely painful moment to think of you, he lets you in, in full force.

He pulls his shirt up over the back of his head, tossing it into the hamper as he passes his closet into his restroom, undoes his belt and jeans, pulling his contraband from the pocket, to push them off as he reaches to turn on the shower. 

As he lets the water heat up, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror. Tall, long frame, still pleasing to a woman, he’d imagine. Well, he hopes so. He’s still strong, his shoulders broad, his chest built from the long hours of hauling and climbing and exhaustive physical labor. There are a few grays threaded through the dark curls at his temples. Sprouting, just in the last year, to remind him that he’s getting older. One of his buddies had told him that eventually everything went gray, everything. That weirded the fuck out of him, to be honest.  He hates the thought of you seeing that, thinking of him as old. You’re so much younger than him. So pretty. Too pretty. His middle has gone slightly softer since hitting forty, but only slightly. There’s no helping that. And the small creases at the corners of his eyes… shit, he’s getting old. But his cock is still long and thick, and he’ll give that to you as much as you’ll let him. If you ever let him. All the time if he can. All he has to do is find a way to see you again, to convince you to let him see you again.

He feels a small bitter ribbon of self consciousness curl through his stomach as he takes himself in. He doesn’t want you to think of him as some old man. Some old, sleazy man who’d seen you and been so fucking desperate for you, he hadn’t cared that he was married, that you’re too young for him, that he has a family, and responsibilities and a life, like some pathetic fucking pervert. You’re just so lovely, so soft and pretty and you smell so good, always. And he’s been so alone for so fucking long. He is lonely. And you, you’d looked at him, you’d seen him, you’d wanted him back just as fiercely as he’d wanted you, even if just for a moment. How was he ever supposed to be strong enough to resist that? And further than your wanting, you’re good and kind and smart and so fucking funny and adorable. Joel could be strong when he needed to be, but he could also be weak, and he thinks that you, perhaps, have the power to make him weaker than anything else. 

What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the person who you could very well fall, probably, very deeply in love with?

Because yes, even now, he is emotionally aware enough to recognize that. More than anything, he can recognize that he has, as of yet, never been in love, but that you present the great, great possibility for that. And yes, it’s too soon, and maybe nonsensical or crazy or what have you, but Joel has always been a man that’s known himself well. When he knows, he knows, and when he chooses, he chooses, and he is very close to knowing and choosing you. 

He looks down at your panties laying on the bathroom counter – the ones he’d stolen. After you’d slipped them off, too wet from your come, from him making you come – they’re his now. 

He runs his thumb and forefinger along the silk lace at the edge. They’re a pretty, soft blue. He loves the color blue now. It will, forevermore, be his favorite color after this. The cut in the back is high, he knows the soft flesh of your ass was left mostly uncovered by them, he remembers he felt it when you rode his thigh. He wishes he could have seen it. He hopes he’ll have another chance to see it. 

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that the middle gusset is still damp from you. He brings them to his face, presses them to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent: still faintly musky, but also, slightly sweet. He sticks his tongue out to taste the fabric, and a violent shiver passes through him. He has to clutch at the countertop to hold himself upright. His cock is fully erect and leaking now. 

He has to taste you. He has to get the chance to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s sure of it.

He brings the soft lace down to his aching erection. He doesn’t care if he’s disgusting. He doesn’t care about anything. All he wants is to feel you. To temper this fire churning in his blood. He can’t remember the last time his body felt like this, the last time he wanted something this fucking badly he felt like he’d die if he didn’t have it. Maybe never – he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. He wraps your panties around his hard length and starts to jack himself off. Strong, tight strokes from base to tip with the tiny, blue silk sliding along his fevered skin. The sound of your orgasm, the look in your eyes as you humped his thigh, ground your little clit on him and soaked his denim. He should’ve touched you more when he had the chance. He wants to fuck you so badly, wants to sink into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt and fuck you full of his come. Mark you. Brand himself into your skin so that you’re never without him. He wants you to smell like him. He wants to feel the wet gush he felt on his jeans on his cock and dripping down his balls, and Jesus fucking Christ, he comes at that. Long, thick ropes of white spend, spitting from his swollen tip at the thought of your pussy coming around him, a desperate whimper escaping in the quiet loneliness of his restroom.  

-

He thinks of you constantly, what seems like every moment of the day, in the weeks that follow. As much as he tries to keep a straight head on, he can’t. He craves you, dreams of you, fucks his hand to the memory of you coming for him, spilling his seed over and over again in the shower at the remembered look in your eyes and the sounds you made for him. He can’t help himself. 

Outside of that, everything else in his life is bleak and slow and… and he doesn’t know what else to call it, except for sad and wanting. Lonely. To have touched something so alive, so beautiful and sweet and perfect, and then be forced to return to the barren landscape that is his life in everything outside of his daughter, it’s jarringly difficult to do. He wants to be strong, to do what you asked of him, but it had been so long since he’d really wanted something for himself. Couldn’t remember what the last thing had been, really, and so to now have something to desire, something to want and think of, it makes him weak and fills his head with all kinds of excuses to see you, to call you – he’d forced Tommy to steal your number for him out of Gerri’s phone – to go to your work and wait for you to come out, just so he can catch a single glimpse of you.

He restrains himself from that, though. He forces himself to focus his mind on other things, Sarah and school and playdates, and he works himself like a dog, taking on more contracts than he ever has before. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest, any time to think, and in the few moments that he does, when he stares at your number on the screen of his phone, imagining what it is he’d say to you if he called, if you answered, what the sound of your voice would be like saying hello to him, saying his name, or in the moments when he fucks himself raw and spent and sad, those are the moments when he feels weakest, when he feels most alone, when he’s almost overwhelmed with wanting. 

-

He only lasts a measly three weeks after the lake house before he’s outside of the elementary school, one late Wednesday afternoon during the second week of the new school year. The sky is dark and angry, on the verge of a downpour, and he’s been waiting, agitated and anxious, for about half an hour, before you finally come out the double doors. 

The lightest sprinkling of rain is starting up, and he jumps out of his truck’s cab, jacket in hand, to approach you. He says your name softly as he comes up on your side while you’re distracted, digging in your purse for something.

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice and turn your wide, worried eyes on him, “Joel–” your voice, soft and breathy, so sweet, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here? Is Sarah okay?”

He holds his hands up in what he hopes is an appeasing, non-threatening gesture, he doesn’t want you nervous. Fucking Christ, asking for Sarah with that look of worry in your eyes, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” how in the fuck is he supposed to not be obsessed with you? “I was just – I was just hoping we could talk, is all.”

You look around at the sparsely filled parking lot, as if searching for witnesses, or perhaps, an escape, but then you turn back to him and pause to take him in. He watches the sweep of your eyes down his body, and then back up, stopping to search for something in his eyes. Whatever you find there must give you the answer you need because you nod your head once, “Alright, we can talk,” you say softly.

“My truck? Can we drive for a bit? I’ll bring you back.” You nod again, and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the drizzle as he leads you to his truck. “S’bout to come down hard,” he murmurs as he opens the passenger door for you, taking your wrist in his hold to help you up into the truck. He can’t help himself, he reaches for your seatbelt and buckles you in himself – is filled with an obscenely embarrassing fizz of pleasure at the gesture of it. 

You’re looking at him with the most concerned little frown marring the soft spot between your delicate brows, “Are you okay?” your voice slow and unsure, and then more of him being unable to help himself, to keep his hands to himself, because he reaches up and gently brushes his thumb over the little frowning wrinkle, nods his head once. 

“I’m okay, baby.”

He drives for a bit, takes you to a spot up in the hills he likes to come to sometimes when he needs to think. Somewhere the two of you can be alone and quiet, just for a moment. He parks the truck by a copse of trees, a view of Austin on the other side of the two of you. The rain has turned into a violent downpour by now. He shuts off the engine and looks out at the view of the city. 

-

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t bother you – you asked me to stay away, but –” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs, and the sound of it is so weary, pained in a way that’s so very, very sad. It makes you hurt for him. You reach across the center console to grip his bicep, you can’t help yourself. You could see from the first look at his face that something was wrong. You know he wouldn’t have come to look for you if he didn’t need you now. 

“You’re not bothering me. I know I shouldn’t, but I wanted to see you too.” You only confess this because of the look in his eyes. The glassy, burdened look of them. You wish that you could climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, press your warmth into him. The rain hits the windshield like bullets, the sound deafening. The world outside of his truck’s cabin seems distorted, as if this liminal space the two of you sit in now, has been carved out of the rest of the real world, and the two of you exist here now, only, together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he wraps his hand over yours on his arm, drags his thumb over the smooth little hills of your knuckles. His gaze out the window is so far away, lost, something almost childlike in its desolation. You watch the strong ripple of his neck as he swallows, clears his throat. “Nothing – just wanted to see you. ‘Dunno… Felt so tired today.” He closes his eyes for a moment, “Couldn’t stop myself. Wanted to just give myself this one thing.” He lets his head roll against the seat to look at you, gives you the gentle curve of his crooked smile. So beautiful and so sad, and you can tell that something is endlessly wrong. You feel afraid, for one moment, that he’s going to start crying, the sadness in his eyes is so overwhelming. You don’t think you’ll be able to stand the sight of his tears, you think they might break you. “Just wanted to look at you, to sit here with you, just for a little bit.”

“Alright.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching him watch the rain. Part of you wants to give him space, give him quiet, but you need to know what’s wrong. You can’t bear the look in his eyes right now. “Did something happen?”

He’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts or his strength around him, and then: “Eva had a pregnancy scare this week.” A jagged shiver slices through you.

“What?” You croak, you try to pull your hand back, but he clamps down on your bones, holds you to him. “But I thought–”

He shakes his head, “Not mine.”

“Joel… what? Are– are you–” You blink furiously, at a loss. What do you say to the man who you’re kind of having an affair with when he tells you his wife, who is also seemingly having an affair, might be pregnant with another man’s child? This is all so, so fucked up. So ugly. You swallow, turn to look out at the rain. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t seem to help the tears from pooling. A bombardment of recurring images from your childhood slingshotting through your mind; your mother, leaving, angry, cold, quiet. Always pushing you away. The sound of her crying through her bedroom door, your child’s ear, pressed to the cool grain, trying to get as close to her as possible even though she doesn’t want you. Always shutting you out. Your father, dead to the world on the sofa in the living room, drowning in his liquor and yearning and hurt. The sight of a tall, handsome stranger, coming up the front walk to ring the doorbell, to take your mother away with him. The way he’d crouched down from his great height to ask you what your name was because she hadn’t even bothered to tell the man she was having an affair with, the man she was leaving you for, what your name was. 

What is it about being unlovable, you wonder, and why is it that some are cursed with it so cruelly, while others are not?

“Hey,” Joel tugs on your wrist, pulls you closer to him. “I told you, we’re not like that, we’ve never been. I don’t want you thinkin’ somethin’ else, that I haven’t been honest.” He drags the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, tips your head back to catch your eyes. You let them flutter shut and swallow, open them again. If you talk you’ll cry, but he needs words from you now. You swallow again, shake your head. 

“It’s– it’s not that. I believe you. And even if it was otherwise, I have no right–”

“Stop. Don’t say that. You know that isn’t true. You have the right to honesty after what I’ve told you, after what we’ve done.” You try to pull back, but he brings his palm to wrap around the back of your neck and grip you by the scruff. “Stop,” he grits, “Don’t pull away from me.” 

You bring your palms up to his chest, clutch at the collar of his shirt. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just–” you huff a sharp, bitter laugh, “Sometimes it’s like you’re just telling me the story of my childhood, over and over again. Like you’re living it again for me. This all sounds very pathetically familiar.” A tear finally falls, you can’t help it. A weeper in a long line of weepers, always. 

“Sweetheart…” he brushes the track of your tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is she?”

“She’s fine. Took her to the doctor this morning.”

“God, Joel– I don’t – I don’t know how you do this.” Another tear. You think of your father, how weak, how broken he was after her. He could have never shouldered the things Joel does. You feel very sad, very sorry, for the both of them, as different as they are. You feel sorry for the whole miserable lot of you, really.

“She needed my help, she was scared–” his thumb sweeps a slow, hypnotizing path up and down the back of your neck. The rough callus on his thumb catches at your sensitive skin and makes you feel hot and sweaty and overwhelmed for the feel of it on every other tender place on your body. “Terrified, really. Of being trapped like that again.”

“Trapped?”

“Sarah was never her plan. Neither of us were. She never wanted any of this.”

“You told me the marriage wasn’t conventional… but I didn’t – I didn’t think Sarah was included in that…” Your stories are too similar, the similarities too painfully familiar.

“We met at a bar, it was–” he looks away, and you watch a hot flush flood his cheeks. He’s embarrassed to tell you this. “It was a one night thing. Her birth control failed, and then – it was just – well, ending the pregnancy was never an option for her, and I told her from the get go that I’d do whatever she wanted, support her in anything she chose. She chose to go on with it. So I asked her to marry me, it made sense, it was– it was the convenient thing. At least, at the time – in my mind, it seemed so. But we – we were strangers, there was no connection. And then… I don’t know. It wasn’t, eventually – it wasn’t the right thing, at all, for any of us. She never wanted to be a mother. She told me once, after, that she’d chosen wrong, she’d made the wrong decision. And I always tried to be supportive, but by that time, well – we had Sarah by that time, and I– I loved her more than anything I’d ever loved in my whole life. Didn’t even know it was possible to love anything that much – and it made me so fucking angry with her – to–  to hear her say something like that, that she should’ve gotten rid of her. It was – I don’t know – a very complicated and painful thing –  for the both of us to grapple with, I guess. But I–” he pauses, takes a deep breath. His eyes shift madly, looking out the window as if the rain will bring with it an explanation or an escape for whatever it is that’s churning inside his mind as he tells you this. “There was never really anything to be angry with, I don’t think. No real reason or focus for my anger. I realized it’s impossible to fault a person for not being what they were never meant to be. She never wanted this. And I hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And the decisions we made were made, and then things just ended up as they did. Sometimes – I don’t,” he frowns, shaking his head, “I don’t know how to say it, but–” He turns to you now, a wild, pleading look in his eyes, “But how can I say that we made a mistake, without saying that Sarah was a mistake? Because if I’ve ever done a single thing absolutely perfect, in my whole entire life, it’s that little girl. She’s perfect. You know what I mean?”

You nod, swallowing back your tears, “Yes.”

He frowns at you, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” you lie, turning to press the back of your hand to your hot eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it reminds me of myself, of my own mother. She – she was the same, I think. Never meant to be a mother. But not bad. It’s just what it was. And hearing you, hearing this, it makes me so sad for you, for all of you. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around your jaw to press his brow to your wet cheek and just holds there. The two of you breathe each other in, match the cadence of your breaths to the other. You snake your arms around his broad shoulders to press yourself closer to him. It scares you, this feeling of necessity he forces out of you, like you need him, even this soon, for strength, for comfort, for happiness. You’ve never felt like this before, and it’s coming on so quickly, overwhelming you. You feel like you need him, and if you don’t have him you’ll never be happy for the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to forget him, to let him go. He shifts to nuzzle against your cheek and then your jaw, and then the hot press of his lips to the tender spot behind your ear. A violent tremble moves through you at the feel of his soft mouth against your skin, and you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders. 

“I just– lemme just–” he mumbles against your skin, and then that hand wrapped around your jaw is turning your head and forcing your mouth open so that he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth and everything goes tight and painful and white hot inside of you. “Jesus–” he says against your mouth. He forces your head back to deepen the angle, his other hand coming up to fist painfully in your hair, and you whimper into him. His answering groan is deep and rumbling and so, so wanting. Your heart feels like it’s flipping and squeezing and pinching inside your ribcage. You can hear how much he wants you, this, in the cadence of the sounds he makes. The kiss is wet, sloppy, full of teeth and all the desperation and yearning of these past few weeks. The days and days of not seeing him, of remembering your encounter in that dark room at the lake house, the way he’d made you come against his thigh, the sound of his own orgasm, the inhibition, the flush in his cheeks as he spilled in his jeans for you. The desperate, pathetic nights of your cunt stuffed full of your fingers, so wet and aching and still not enough even though you’d made yourself orgasm multiple times at just the memory of him. You claw at his hair and neck and back, you want to draw blood, imprint yourself on him in some way, the same way he’s imprinted himself on you. He brings the hand in your hair down to your waist to press you closer to him. The center console digs painfully into your ribs and you want to climb over it and settle in his lap, but you know you shouldn’t, that if you end up over there you’ll let him fuck you, and that you’ll never come back from that. Not ever. He drags his hand up to your breast, grips the heavy weight in his large palm and squeezes, and it hurts and it feels so, so fucking good that you rip yourself away from his mouth, push at his broad chest to force him away from you. The both of you stare at each other, wide eyed and panting great, heaving gasps. His hair is sticking up at all angles, messy from your pillaging fingers, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed almost feverish. 

Oh, you want him so badly. This will be your undoing. 

“We– we can’t– I didn’t come here with you for– for that,” you gasp, pressing your fingers to your wet mouth.

“I know– I know– shit, we–” He passes a palm over his mouth, and you feel another tear slide down your burning cheek. You’re surprised you don’t see steam rise at the contact. “Fuck – fuck, baby, please. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I got carried away– ”

“I’m not crying– I’m not.” Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll be true. You turn to wipe it away on the hill of your shoulder, try to hide your face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you

“I wanted you to. I want it so badly,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You feel inconsolable. 

“I know– I know.”

You want him so badly, so badly, so badly, you want him to keep touching you forever. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts–”

“Jesus, what hurts? Tell me.” He leans forward, gripping your knee painfully tight, and you press yourself into the door at your back, “Fuck– is that sweet, little cunt aching for me? Tell me, baby.”

You nod

“Fuck, what if– what if we just – just watch each other? What if you pet your cunt for me, and let me watch? Just– just to make the ache go away? Would that be okay?”

You shake your head, unsure, but your hand is clutching his over your knee now, digging your nails into the top of his palm and letting him slowly push your knee open further. 

His voice is so coaxing. Oh, he shouldn’t use that tone of voice against you, you’re powerless to it. “You can, it’s okay. It’s just to make the ache go away, it’s okay,” and you have no choice but to capitulate, no desire to not give in.

His palm on your knee slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt to bunch at your hips, and he hooks one finger into the side of your panties to pull them down as you lift your hips, allowing him to divest you of them. So easy, you’re so fucking easy, and you don’t even care. All you can focus on right now is the throbbing ache between your legs. 

His eyes don’t leave yours as he says, “Spread your legs… that’s it.” 

“Don’t– don’t look–” you stutter as you bring your shaking fingers to your core, and he’s leaning back to undo his belt and drag his zipper down. You can’t look either, you can’t, if you do, you’ll lose, you know it. You see the peripheral movement of him reaching into his clothes to pull the heft of his cock out, the shift of his upper body as he lifts his hips to readjust his pants to free himself. Your cunt is slick and throbbing, painfully swollen. 

You watch the movement of his shoulder as he starts to jack himself, “Just your clit first, baby. Soft, little circles, yeah… how does that feel?”

“Good– good, yes.” You’re panting, mouth hanging open. There is fire in his gaze, all for you, only for you. 

“Yeah? You need more?”

“Please, Joel–” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but you don’t think it’s for your touch alone. 

“Give yourself one finger, sweetheart. Just one – tell me how wet it is? Are you soaked for me?”

You press one finger inside, and yes, yes, your’re fucking soaked for him, you say. He groans at that, the rhythm of his shoulder gets faster. “I have to look, baby. Please, please, I have to see how wet it is.” The tops of his cheeks are flushed red, but as you watch the downward shift of his eyes to your spread sex, the place where you’re impaling yourself with a single finger, his eyes flare, the flush seems to ricochet even higher, hotter. You pull your finger out to cup yourself, hide yourself, burning with shyness and lust, but fuck, the look in his eyes, it’s bright hot, devouring. No one has ever looked at you like that. Never. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, “Put ‘em back in. Fuck yourself, make yourself come. I have to see it.” So fucking gorgeous, you hear him mutter under his breath, and you finally give yourself permission to look down as you stuff two fingers back into your desperate pussy. Fuck your rules, you have to see him.

He’s huge.

Thick and long, the size of his cock is not made smaller by the massive breadth of his fist holding it in a vice-like grip, jacking it, tight and fast. The head is flushed a deep, angry red, the slit at the top weeping a pearly stream of precum that makes your mouth water and the muscles in your pelvis tighten – you want to taste him, you want him to fuck your mouth until you’re forced to swallow his load. There’s a thick vein running up the entire length of the underside of the shaft that you’re sure you’d feel his pulse in if you set your tongue against it. He’s pulled his heavy balls out over the edge of his jeans too, and he cups them and squeezes. 

“Spread yourself wider for me – yeah like that… Lemme see you stretch that cunt.”Oh, he’s so dirty. 

You’re sucking in quick, shallow gulps of air, on the verge of hyperventilating as you watch his massive palm beat at his cock, almost dizzy with lust, your blood rushing in your head, your pussy sopping wet, tight as a knot. This isn’t enough, you want to stop, you want to go further, you want him to touch you, to climb into his lap, to take that heavy, thick weight inside of you and feel him stretch you to the point of pain. “Don’t look– you shouldn’t look–” you don’t know why you say it, maybe because you feel you have to, but it’s nonsensical when your eyes are glued to him. 

“I have to look, baby. Please, don’t ask me that. I have to see it – fuck, you’re so gorgeous, look at you. Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Stop,” you moan, arching your back further to crook your fingers inside of yourself, hitching your knees higher to pet at the spongy, tender spot inside you that you’d like him to own. “St– stop– I’m–  m’not your baby– don’t– don’t– oh fuck, I’m gonna come–” your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of his choked growl, his eyes glued to your stretched sex, the sounds of your wetness and his slick palm echoing in the truck cabin. 

“You are, you are – even if you won’t let me touch you, won’t let me have you – you fucking belong to me now. Already, even like this – look at you, about to come for me with just my eyes on you.” His hips start to lift into his fist, his hand almost a blur for how fast he’s fucking himself, teeth gritted, tendons in his strong neck popping starkly under the surface of his flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Fuck– fuck, it’s so pretty.”

“Stop– please, Joel, I need–”

“Wanna taste it and fuck it and fill it with my come–”

“Oh my fucking God–” you’re going to come, now, now, it’s right there. You tell him.

“One more finger – lemme see you stretch yourself… yeah like that… my good fucking girl,” grunted as you stuff a third finger inside and start to spasm, mewling high and desperate for him, grinding your clit against the mound of your palm. You want his cock to stretch you like this, and you tell him. The sound he makes at your desperate plea, as if it’s been ripped out of him, painful, desperate, savage. You watch the wide head flush an almost deeper shade, verging on purple now, and he squeezes the base cruelly, his sack fisted tight in his other hand, and he starts to come, a thick white stream of milky spend that makes your mouth water, sliding over his fist and spurting onto his exposed belly. “Oh God, Joel, I want it.” You can’t stop the words, the sight of his orgasm forces them out of you. 

“I know, baby, I know. I want to give it to you,” he says through clenched teeth. 

You both stay frozen like that for a moment as you come down, panting and staring at each other wide eyed and flushed and trembling. That was, perhaps, no, it was without a doubt, the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man, and you’d barely even touched each other. Pain and pleasure coalesce to leave you shaking and sweating, your skin hypersensitive. You’re scared you’re going to start crying again and scare him, give him the wrong idea – that you’d not liked this, that you’d not wanted this. When the truth is that nothing could ever compare to how much you wanted, needed it. How much you’ll want this forever now. You want to take him inside of you. The sheer force of your desire almost has a flavor, a shape to it. The strength of it, so potent, it is almost made sentient – a living thing. 

You pull your wet fingers out, and he snaps forward suddenly, to snatch your hand towards himself and brings the slick digits into his mouth, his tongue laving hot and wet between the spaces, sucking on them. All the while his eyes are zeroed in on the space between your legs, on the place that is still clenching and stretched, so ready and eager for him to fill. You gasp at his ferocity, at the feral look in his eyes because you can see, you can see that almost sentient desire you’re filled with, reflected in his own eyes. 

“Joel–” you whisper as he presses one final kiss to the wet tips of your fingers, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds there for one moment. 

“I know–” he whispers back, and when his eyes come back to yours, there is such a depth of understanding in them. You realize in this moment, in this shared look, that the two of you are the same in an essential way. It isn’t just your desire that connects the two of you now, it’s so much more. A loneliness, a sentimentality, perhaps, a keen sense of familiarity. That vein of shyness, of being closed off, that fear of opening up, of being hurt, of being left. He’s the same, you can see it, feel it. 

You’d never thought you had a very good sense of self identity – your perception of yourself skewed in the image of your mother, of who she was, of her shadow, of the things she’d done, but in this moment, looking into the reflection of Joel’s eyes, you feel you see yourself very clearly, almost securely, for the first time. It is recognition the two of you are sharing now, for some reason, in some way, you recognize him. And you find it ironic, that now, in this moment of all times, when you’re doing the very thing that you’d always been so afraid of, of turning into the thing that you’d always feared because of your mother, it is ironic that you are finally able to cast away her shadow, her image, and see only yourself, so clearly, so wholly, because of him.

And yet, despite the sudden, blinding clarity, oh, it was all so dark, so dark, that it be this man, this unavailable, married, unreachable man, that would make you feel so wholly seen, so understood, so connected. 

Your wrist is left wet and sticky where he’s gripped you with his spend covered fingers, but you’re careful not to wipe it away. You want to be left with the tightness of his dried come over your skin. 

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I was going to say that I wish we could do it again – that I wish we could do more.”

“Shit–” he whispers, passes his dry palm over his mouth and then up into his hair, to tug at the messy curls. You move to right your clothes, and he follows your lead, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Me too.”

You let your head rest back against the window as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. It’s comforting, filled with companionship, understanding, the intimacy of the moment the two of you just shared. Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but smile at him, just a little, a small laugh escaping, and then he’s returning it, smiling and laughing softly too, until the both of you are wracked with the most ridiculous, schoolyard giggles, like two blushing teenagers. It’s a wonderful moment for the purity of it, the two of you together, laughing. Later, you’re sure it will make you very sad and desperate to relive it, but now, oh, now, it really does feel so wonderful. You wish the two of you could live here forever, together in this moment, in the warm, intimate space of his truck’s cabin.

You talk for hours after that, about nothing and everything. His work and yours, your art, his love of building things, of taking care of things, music and movies and books and Sarah. Always, Sarah. 

“She has an obsession with bats right now, weird kid, and there’s a sanctuary up town. We spent a few hours there on Saturday, she loved it. Scampering around in this Snow White princess dress she’s refused to take off for the past three weeks. Won’t part with the damn thing, not even to let me wash it.”

He loves her so much, and it makes your heart pinch and your eyes go hot and weepy. He is, you think, an exceptionally good father, an exceptionally good man. 

Eventually, however, it gets late enough that the two of you realize you need to get home. He drives you back to the school in the most comfortable of silences, your hand intertwined reassuringly in his strong embrace. It feels worryingly natural, right. 

“Will you let me see you again?” he asks when he pulls up next to your lonely car in the school parking lot. 

“I don’t– I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joel. This will only go further from here if we continue. And I don’t– I can’t be your–” you frown, shaking your head, disgusted at yourself for even having to say the words, “I can’t be your mistress,” you tell him bluntly.

“I would never, never ask that of you.”

“So, then what is it supposed to be? You’re going to leave your wife? That– that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be the thing that breaks your marriage up, your family, that leaves Sarah in a broken home. I cannot be that.” It would be your worst nightmare come to life. 

He says your name in the most serious tone you think he can muster, as if he can imbue the understanding of his words into your stubborn skull with the resonance of it, “There is no marriage to break up. She’s leaving soon, I know it, I can tell. She’s done. She’s leaving Sarah, and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. I don’t think I can let her just – just come in and out of our daughter’s life like that. Something needs to stop or change. I have to do something to make this better for my girl.”

“I understand that, and I can’t– I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear that for Sarah. For you. Really, I understand more than I can tell you – but still, when it comes to you and I, or you and her – I can’t … I can’t get into that like this. I– I, I don’t–” you pant, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can’t do that, this. Not now.”

“Baby–”

“No, Joel. You don’t understand – I watched my mother cheat on my father my entire childhood, until she up and left us one day, left him. I watched him love her for years, unreturned, suffer for her, and then I watched him kill himself slowly, drink himself to death until I buried him.”

“That isn’t what Eva and I are–”

“I cannot have an affair with you. I know – I know that’s basically what we’re already fucking doing – I know I’m a hypocrite–”

“You’re not–”

“But I can’t also be the reason you leave your marriage. It would kill me – do you understand?” your voice cracks, you’re shocked you’re not crying right now. “Please, Joel.”

He looks at you for a moment, you’re afraid you can see anger in his eyes, but then they go soft, understanding, and he says, “Yeah… yeah, sweetheart. I understand.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath, relieved, but at the same time, filled with a sick twist of disappointment. What would you do if he pressed you, if he forced you? You know part of you would like it. “Can I at least call you? Only sometimes, please. Just to talk – to hear your voice.”

You start to shake your head, but when you open your eyes and take in the pleading look in his gaze, you can’t say no. “Alright, yes… yes, you can call me. That’s okay.”

“Can I kiss you? Just once more?” You lean over the console and press your lips to his, sudden and rough, as an answer, your teeth clicking together harshly. Of course, you want to kiss him again, of course. 

One long, tight moment, you clutch his wrists to keep them from pulling you in closer, and then you’re pulling back, scrambling out of the truck and forcing yourself away from him. You need to get away before you lose all strength of will and just let him do whatever he wants to you. You hear him get out, as well, and follow you around to your driver’s side door, waiting behind you as you dig for your car keys in your bag. You open the door, and then turn back to him, you can’t help yourself, and he lifts a hand to drag his thumb across your cheekbone, along the edge of your jaw. His eyes look so sad, like he’s afraid this’ll be the last time the two of you ever see each other again. The tears are back and angrily demanding release, but you try and take deep breaths through your nose to keep them at bay while your entire frame shakes and shivers at the restraint. He nods once and leans forward to press a long kiss above your brow, and then he turns and walks back to his truck, gets inside. He waits until you’ve gotten in your own car and are driving away, great heaving sobs wracking your body, overwhelming you, before you see him finally turn his truck on and start to drive back home, back to his wife and child.

Chapter .5

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

End Notes: This was kind of a heavy one, if there’s anything you’d like to chat about (or yell at me for all the angsty bullshit) pls come do so :)

[grlsbstshot]

Join us for the next chapter of NEON LIGHTS premiering Wednesday

(Don’t miss updates every Wednesday & Saturday for NEON LIGHTS, an original character fanfic. Chapters & Special Extras found on the masterlist.)

IMANI INVITES YOU TO READ HER DIARY By: Vanessa Lawton JAN. 2026

It’s been a year since Imani St. Cirie, the sultry and enigmatic singer-songwriter, made headlines for her surprise EP release, Diary. In the following months, she became an awards show darling. Winning Billboard, AMAs, and even a BRIT Award. It all culminated in a Grammy win in Best R&B Song for the top ten Billboard hit, Kitchen. But since then? Nothing. We sit down with the superstar to find out exactly what's on the horizen.

Exuding a quiet confidence, Imani sits opposite me in the PAPER magazine headquarters. It's a simple interview, one that shouldn't take more than an hour or so but she makes herself comfortable. Imani, dressed in a HOESMAD cropped tee, baggy cargo jeans, and black and white pair of Bathing Apes, there’s a softness to her demeanor that suggests it's been a long year for the superstar. "It's been a year of unexpected successes. I really didn't expect for Diary to be that successful, but I'm grateful. I think it did what it needed to do."

From the heartbreak that inspired her latest EP to the unexpected that has helped her heal, she’s unflinchingly honest. "Love is tough. It's complicated. I don't think it's meant to be easy, but whatever is real, you'll fight for it. No matter what."

This is a different Imani—one who’s no longer defined by her past but empowered by it. And as she prepares to step back into the spotlight, it’s clear that she’s not just reclaiming her voice—she’s rewriting her story.

VL: Diary was a huge success last year. How did it feel to see it resonate so deeply with your fans? Imani: “It’s so crazy because I just released that EP to let all these emotions I felt out. I never thought that so many people would like it. Like damn, y’all really fuck with me.”

VL: Your lyrics often feel deeply personal. Do you find it difficult to share so much of yourself through your music?

Imani: “No. Music is a release for me. I use my songwriting as a way to get everything out. The hardest part for me is releasing it to the world because like you said it is deeply personal.”

VL: What’s been the most rewarding moment in your career over the past year?

Imani: “When I won a Grammy for ‘Kitchen,’ like wow. I’m still in shock about that.”

VL: Fans have speculated about the themes of Diary. Was it inspired by personal experiences?

Imani: “Yes, but all my art is. Where else am I supposed to draw inspiration from?”

VL: You and James Lucas have a shared history in music. Do you think you’ll ever collaborate?

Imani: “I don’t know…that’s a question he should probably answer.” 

VL: What’s next for you musically? Can fans expect a full album soon?

Imani: “I wouldn’t say soon! I’ve been so busy with videos and promo for Diary that I haven’t gotten a chance to go to the studio but I’m always writing and I want to release something next year.” 

VL: You’ve been linked to several high-profile individuals this year. How do you handle the constant media scrutiny of your personal life?

Imani: “I try to ignore it because the media tends to think they know everything about Imani but I promise you they don’t know even know a quarter of me. So I try not to let it bother me.” 

VL: You’ve been very private about your relationships lately. Is that intentional?

Imani: “Yes, because it’s no one’s business but my own. After my relationship with my ex, I think I’m owed some privacy.”

VL: What’s been the biggest lesson you’ve learned about yourself in the past year?

Imani: “That it’s okay to sit in your sorrow sometimes. No matter how much you try, you can’t run from it. You can’t hide from it. So it’s okay to sit and wallow for a little bit.” 

VL: You’ve spoken before about the importance of self-care. What does that look like for you now?

Imani: “Right now? It looks like a day off with sleeping in, a bubble bath with a seaweed face mask, some pasta and a marathon of Sex and the City. I know that ain’t y’all ideal self-care but it’s mine.” 

VL: What role has your family or close friends played in supporting you this year? 

Imani: “My aunt has been the most vital part to Diary’s rollout. I told her what I wanted to do and what publications I wanted to. She handled it all for me.” 

VL: Are there any misconceptions about you that you’d like to clear up?

Imani: “Nah, take what you heard about me and double that shit!” 

VL: What’s one thing fans would be surprised to learn about you?

Imani: “That I’m really a happy person. They always coming up to me, asking me if I’m okay because they heard such-and-such song and are concerned but guys, I promise y’all I’m fine.” 

VL: How do you handle creative blocks or moments of doubt in your career?

Imani: “I try to write through it. Like even if the lyric is trash as fuck, I write it out just so I can get it out of my head.” 

VL: If you could give advice to your younger self, what would it be?

Imani: “Everything will be okay. I know things are looking bleak right now but you will be fine! Crashing out all the time ain’t worth it, girl.” 

The late afternoon sun was starting to set but a few rays spilled through the wide windows of Jameson’s New York brownstone, casting golden streaks across the hardwood floors. He sat at his kitchen table, the picture of comfort. T-shirt, jogging pants, no socks. The room was quiet, except for the occasional hum of the city outside. A glass of water sat untouched on the table beside him. His phone lay in his hand, the screen glowing with the headline of an article he hadn’t been prepared to see.

Imani Invites You to Read Her Diary

He stared at the cover for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the link. She looked gorgeous, the picture of perfection. Her eyes carried a calm he hadn’t seen in them before. Maybe he was imagining it but she looked...like she was thriving without him. He felt his chest tighten. It had been a full, agonizing year since he’d seen her. Since she’d walked out of his life. And now, here she was, staring back at him from his screen like a ghost that refused to stay buried.

He finally tapped the link, the words unfolding before him like a slow unraveling of a wound he thought had begun to heal.

"After my relationship with my ex, I think I'm owed some privacy." she’d said. He read those words over and over, the simplicity of them cutting deeper than he expected but she was right. They were high profile in the best ways but also in some of the worst ways. She deserved to keep her cards close to her chest. It didn't stop the blogs from talking about her...and Amir. And Vivienne. He'd seen photographic proof that she had moved on. It seemed that space had finally evolved to over for her.

His eyes scanned the article, taking in her reflections on the past year. She spoke of growth, of self-care, of understanding herself. There was a brief mention of him but she didn't dwell. Part of him was proud of her.

Jameson leaned back against the chair and waited for deep mournful pain to hit him. It always did when he imagined the rest of his life without her...but remarkably, it didn't come. He felt hurt when she had moved on. He drank and closed himself off, eventually began therapy when his grief had taken a worrying turn, and even moved across the country to get away from his feelings for her. After a year of pouring his emotions into his music and six months into some semblance of a relationship with Camille -- Jameson had finally stopped grieving.

He still loved her, that much was clear. But he had finally accepted that their lives wouldn't merge again. He could read the article about her, feel the pain, and then...simply trust in the knowledge that she was happy.

His doorbell rang and the sound startled him, pulling him from his thoughts. He set the phone down, the screen dimming as he stood. For a brief moment, he considered not answering, but the ringing came again.

He hadn't been expecting anyone. Still, he got up and tried to leave thoughts of Imani in his kitchen -- and was met by the image of a pretty brunette on his front stoop.

Camille Lefevre.

Her long, brown hair was pulled up into a topknot, her usual style when she wasn't strutting down runways or covering magazines. If you passed her on the street, her beauty would be obvious and you'd immediately know she was a supermodel.

They met at an afterparty, amid his emotional spiraling. Imani was on her second new relationship in six months. He watched with envy, a sick gnawing in his gut. He hadn’t been able to escape updates. It ate him up to see her move on when he seemed stuck in a rut. His mother had been so concerned that she damn near moved into his home until he moved to New York. To stop her from coming with him, he promised to start therapy. He started going out more -- though he didn't enjoy it.

Camille had seen through his disgruntled demeanor. She made him laugh at a time when people didn’t even get to see him smile. She was bold, kind, driven. She wanted him and she was going to have him. Casual sex, late-night conversations, and dinner dates followed over the next few months when either of them had the time. They didn’t give it a name but it was something.

Jameson opened the door to find her holding a bag of takeout and wearing that bright, effortless smile he’d grown to appreciate. She was a steady presence in his life, a warm light that had helped guide him through some of his darkest moments. But right now, standing in front of her, he felt the weight of the article still pressing on his chest.

"Hey," she said, stepping inside and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I figured you probably forgot to eat, so I brought reinforcements."

Jameson forced a smile. "That's cute. She came to feed me."

"Well, someone has to." She tossed over her shoulder before heading into the kitchen. She set the bag on the counter and began unpacking containers, chattering away about the upcoming party for his album, excitement evident in her voice. Jameson tried to focus, nodding and murmuring responses where appropriate, but his mind kept drifting back to Imani’s words.

Camille turned to him, her brows furrowing slightly. "You okay? You seem...distracted."

Jameson hesitated, the truth caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His first instinct was to lie to her but he heard his therapist clear in his mind. 'Is this lie protecting you, or is it holding you back?' He sighed and told her the truth. "I read an article today. About Imani."

He looked at her then, really looked at her. She was kind, patient, and always there when he needed her. She deserved his honesty, but he wasn’t sure how to give it to her without hurting her.

Camille’s expression softened, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes. "Oh."

She knew about him and Imani. Who didn't. When they first began, he tried to disconnect from Camille -- knowing he was still caught up on Imani but she let him know that she understood. She was taking a risk with him. It gave him the courage to take the same risk.

"It...caught me off guard," he continued, setting his chopsticks down. “I didn’t expect to see her face, to read about her life like that. I...It stung a little."

Camille nodded slowly, her hand resting on his. "It’s okay to feel that way, you know. You love her. That doesn’t just disappear overnight."

Jameson took a good look at her, lifting his hand from the counter and reaching up to brush a few tendrils of hair from her face. "It stung but it didn't...it didn't hurt me like I thought it would. I want her to be happy. Even if that's not with me. And I want to be happy with you."

Camille was quiet for a moment before she tilted her head, leaning against his hand. "You don't have to say that. It took a lot for you to get here. You've made a lot of progress. Feeling things for her doesn't erase that progress."

He wished she was a little less understanding. He wanted her to yell at him for feeling something for anyone other than her. That felt normal. But her simple acceptance of everything he was made him want to be more for her. Nothing he said or did would be good enough because he knew...she would always deserve more. She was getting half of a man. Why couldn't he just give her everything?

"I'm okay." "You are?" "Mhm. If I'm not, I will be. I'm with you. I'm good."

He watched her melt and felt proud that at least he'd gotten that right for her. Camille leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need."

"I know." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm grateful."

As Camille returned to her food, Jameson’s gaze drifted to his phone on the counter. He turned it face down, trying to push Imani out of his mind once again. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. She was a part of him, no matter how much time passed or how far apart they were. And that realization was both comforting and excruciating.

[theconstellationprincess]

Gimme more of that Age Regression Scott🛐

It was so comforting oml

asdaenfoun thank you <333 I will give you more age regression Scott! This one is more of a proper story :>

-

Scott hummed quietly to himself as he checked the temperature of the water running from the faucet. They had been on a mission that morning, and it had been a rough one. Magneto had been... honestly, Scott couldn't even remember why they were fighting, just that it had been long and brutal, and had ended with a lot more injuries than normal. Jean had stayed back along with Hank when they had all piled on the jet, working on developing some new technology to add to her suit. When they had all returned, burned and bruised, she had spent the next few hours fretting everyone. Scott had told her to slow down or she'd end up exhausted, but she hadn't listened- of course, he never listens either when she tells him to rest, but that's beside the point- so now he was preparing a bath for her, to try and quell the growing headache she was experiencing.

Satisfied with the temperature, Scott flicked off the water off his fingers and turned to the sink, ducking to the cabinet underneath and grabbing one of her bath foams, lavender, and adding a few cap-fuls under the bath's faucet. Bubbles began to form, and he watched them for a second, mesmerized. He ran a hand through them and grinned to himself, squishing the coloured foam in his hands. He jumped when he heard Jean enter their bedroom, quickly pulling back and wiping his hands off on his jeans as he exited the bathroom and headed towards her. Scott made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Oh Jean," He sighed, kissing her temple. She hummed quietly back at him, and he squeezed her hand as he led her into the bathroom. The air was warm and thick with heat, but Scott didn't linger. "Let me know if you need anything." Jean mumbled an affirmative, and Scott left her to relax. He really did love taking care of her, when she let him. There was nothing better than seeing the people you love relaxed, safe, and happy, and knowing that you are the reason they feel that way.

He gingerly laid down in their shared bed, well aware of the many bruises decorating his body. He hadn't wanted to worry Jean when she was stressing about the rest of the time, but now that she was occupied and he was otherwise alone, he let himself grimace and squeeze his eyes shut as he slowly breathed.

He had to countdown from ten when there was a knock on the door, to avoid cursing whoever it was out. Scott had impeccable self-control, and he refused to let it slip, even when he was as exhausted as he is. He was still the team leader, which meant holding himself accountable to the image he had created. "It's open!" He called, sitting up with a wince that he barely managed to school before the door opened, revealing Logan, who stepped into the room with a wrinkled nose.

"Why do you smell so stressed?" Logan demanded, approaching Scott until he was close enough to press a finger against his chest. Scott flinches back when Logan, presumably unintentionally (although Scott never knows with him), hits a bruise. Logan narrows his eyes, and Scott mentally runs through a plan for this situation. His best chance is to tell the truth, because lying would only provoke Logan further and Scott really is not in the mood for an argument.

"I'm worried about Jean, she's exhausted herself today. I'm also concerned about the rest of the team, because it was a hard win today, and no one came away unscathed. And most of us don't have an advanced healing factor, that means several members of the team are out of commission for several days, if not weeks, because of their injuries, and it's not like villains ever give us a break." Scott huffs an unamused laugh and runs a hand through his hair. Logan is still glaring at him, but Scott is out of steam, out of energy, and he really just wants to rest. "Did you need anything, Logan?" He asks tiredly, rubbing his cheeks right below where his visor lies, cutting into him in a way that hasn't bothered Scott since he was still a kid and getting used to the damn thing. He feels like everything is suddenly dialed up to eleven and his mind hasn't had time to adjust.

"Yeah." Logan replied gruffly, but not elaborating further. Scott gave him an expectant look, which was less effective behind the visor, but Logan seemed to have picked up on it regardless. "Stop stinking up the place and relax for once in your life, Slim." Scott opened and closed his mouth a few times, shocked at the audacity and offended by the implication that he never relaxes. He does! Like, so often. Incredibly often.

"-or milk?" Scott blinks at Logan, he hadn't realized the man was still talking. His confusion must be evident because Logan laughs and repeats himself. Scott tries to school his expression, but it doesn't feel very effective. He must be more tired than he thought. "Water or milk? What do you want to drink?" Scott couldn't be more confused if he tried, was this Logan trying to be nice to him? Why? "Kid. Answer me."

"Milk." Scott finally replied, shoulders dropping a little when Logan nodded and then just- left? Scott half thought he might be going insane, but Jean would have told him if he was. Logan was suddenly reminding him a lot of the professor, and that was not something Scott would have thought he'd ever think about the man.

When Scott had first come to the institute, he refused to ask Charles for anything- still avoids it as much as possible, even now- and it had not ended well for either of them. Eventually, Charles had discovered that if he presented Scott with two options, and some pressure, Scott would pick one of them. Perhaps Charles had done the same thing with Logan when they had first found him, because Scott knows that during that time, Logan had not been taking good care of himself.

It had been good to watch Logan, bit by bit, become more comfortable with all of them. Even Scott, even though they got along like oil and water most days, they had their rare moments of genuine friendship. Like today, Scott supposed, although this was the oddest way Logan could have gone about it.

Speak of the devil, Scott thought, as Logan reappeared in the doorway, holding two mugs. He handed one to Scott, and kept the other one for himself as he leaned against the wall across from where Scott was sitting. Scott was pleasantly surprised to note that the mug was warm, and when he took a sip, he couldn't help the content sound he made. Logan had added vanilla, and possibly sugar? Scott licked his lips and took another sip.

"Thank you," He mumbled, relaxing against the headboard. Logan made some odd noise and Scott just let himself relax for a moment, even though he knew he really should be up and about, taking over what Jean was doing to help the rest of the team. He felt warm, and safe, and cared for. When he went to drink more, he winced as his visor pressed uncomfortably against his skin.

"Where are 'yer glasses, kid?" Logan asked, startling Scott a bit. He mumbled some incomprehensible words and took another drink. "Scott." Logan prompted, pushing off against the wall and taking a seat on the bed in front of Scott, close enough he pulled his legs up and closer to his chest.

"You can't tell Hank," Was the first thing out of his mouth, and Logan grinned, because this was not 'fearsome leader of the X-Men' Scott, this was 'young adult who does stupid things when he thinks no one is watching' Scott.

"Scouts honor," Logan replies, fighting back a laugh at the incredulous look Scott gave him. He can tell, even though he can't see his eyes, that Scott does not and would never believe Logan was a scout.

"Sure." He says suspiciously, and then straightens up a bit, biting his lip. "They broke, yesterday, when me and Warren were doing some training." Logan nodded, and made a 'continue' gesture with his hands. Scott cringed and took another sip of his milk, which was cooling by now. He needed to drink it faster.

"... They fell from a very tall height. Specifically the height of the school. And I haven't gotten around to telling Hank yet." Scott steadily drew in on himself the longer he talked, until he was practically a ball and mumbling into his knees. "Warren talked me into it, said it would be fun, and then called me a stick in the mud when I said I didn't want to have fun so I did it and- well." Scott cuts himself off and finishes his milk, pouting a bit. "It was stupid."

But it had been fun, even Scott could admit that. And a great trust exercise. Warren had been apologetic about the whole thing, but Scott had waved him off, it was his choice to go along with it, after all. It had been fun, and freeing, in a way that Scott hadn't felt since the very early days of the X-Men, back when he wasn't really a leader and Charles had been less... involved, in what he had been doing.

"It was stupid." Logan agrees, but he's smiling, and Scott feels... he feels good. Good enough that he laughs and leans forward to cuff the back of Logan's head, even though he doubts Logan would actually let him, only for Logan to grab him and drag him closer. Scott yelps and goes to squirm away, but Logan is really warm, and the grip he has feels comforting and not constricting. Secure. And Scott goes boneless, melting against Logan like he would Jean, and his brain empties until all he can think about it how nice it is to be held like this, how he feels so vulnerable but not uncomfortable with it. He closes his eyes, heaves a sigh, and just lets himself float.

In the back of his mind, he notices when Jean exits the bathroom. She mentally brushes up against him, questioning, checking in on him, and Scott replies with the vague fuzziness he feels and she retreats back out of his head. He's not really paying attention when she crawls into bed next to him, but he makes a discontented sound when Logan gently pushes him away until he's laying down. He slurs some words, not certain about what he's trying to say other than that he wants Logan's warmth back, but quickly relaxes when Jean pulls him against her chest, squeezing him. He can hear them talking, but can't be bothered to really focus, because everything right now is just nice and he doesn't want to ruin it with adult responsibilities.

He hears the door click shut, and it's not long after that he falls asleep.

When Scott wakes up, the fuzziness is gone, but there's a deep sense of safety in his bones, the feeling that everything is alright and that he can rest because no one needs him right now. He feels surprisingly okay with that, and decides it's probably okay to sleep a little longer, so he does.

-

I don't know if this is any good but um. More age regression Scott? Deffo more overt than the other one, which I hope is okay. Um. Please send me more asks about him, because I love writing about him.

[eddieschains]

Trick Or Treat

A/N: a cute lil fluffy fic about Eddie and your little sister on halloween

Word Count: 1.2k

TW// i don’t think there’s anything other than i didn’t proof read so pls ignore any mistakes 🫶🏽

Eddie and your little sister always had a special bond with each other. He treated her as if she was his own, and made sure she always felt welcome in his home. Sometimes after school when you had to work later than normal, she’d take the bus to the trailer park just to spend time with him. He always took care of her just as well, if not better than you.

There was one thing they bonded over the most. Halloween. She loved the idea of carving pumpkins, watching scary movies, and trick or treating. She had asked Eddie to take her this year, but as he got busier with work and the band, he had to stay behind. But he promised to make it up to her by the end of the night.

You took the day off of work, knowing how much she loved this night, you wanted to be with her for every moment of it. From helping her with her costume, to making a route for trick or treating so she’d hit all the good houses with the king size candy bars.

You walked around Hawkins for a good couple hours before making your way over to the trailer park to spend the rest of the night with Eddie. Little Kelsey skipped all the way down the gravel road, singing one of those Dio songs Eddie had taught her.

You try your best to keep up behind her, but once she spots the Munson trailer, she’s off. She sprints over to the driveway, excitement filling her tiny body as she notices Eddie’s van in the driveway. You finally catch up to her, having to hold her back from barging inside.

“Hold on, you gotta knock on the door.” You tell her as you both walk up to the front porch. She knocks her fist on the door furiously as you both wait for Eddie. Soon enough, the door swings open, as Eddie stands in front of both of you with a wide smile. “Trick or treat?” You ask with a smirk.

“Depends on if you’re the treat or not.” He smirks back, wrapping his arms around you and planting a deep kiss to your lips.

You giggle in his arms before he feels a small hand tugging at his jeans. He looks down to see Kelsey’s bright eyes staring up at him, before he’s removing himself from you and picking her up, swinging her around in his arms.

“There’s my little munchkin.” He smiles, blowing raspberries across her face as she bursts out laughing. He sets her back down on the ground, ruffling her hair. “Well aren’t you the cutest witch of the west.” She giggles and mumbles a soft thank you.

Both of you walk inside, Kelsey immediately jumping on the couch to start going through her candy. You join Eddie in the kitchen as he prepares some hot chocolate for you all.

“How was work?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“It was alright. Couldn’t wait to see you guys though.” He smiles, turning his head to kiss your cheek.

He pours the drink in 3 mugs, topping it with whipped cream and mini marshmallows, just the way he and Kelsey like it. He sits down next to her, handing her the cocoa as he turns the TV on.

“Beetlejuice?” He asks, turning to Kelsey as she nods, taking a sip of her cocoa. He smiles and turns the movie on, cuddling her into his side. “Get anything good?”

She starts going through the candy in her little pumpkin bowl, pulling out all the best ones. “There’s this one house by the school that was handing out the big ones. And she let me take three!”

“Oh really? You gonna save one for me?” He teases, grabbing the candy from her and pretending to start opening it.

“I guess we can share.” She sighs, letting him take one of the bars. You both chuckle as you continue watching the movie. Eddie and Kelsey eat the candy as he listens to all her stories from tonight.

Whenever Kelsey was around, she was all Eddie paid attention to. You might as well not have even been there. But you didn’t mind. You loved watching them bond and have fun together. Those were honestly some of your favorite moments.

A couple hours pass by and the movie ends. You look at the clock and notice it’s getting late, so you stand up from the couch and start gathering your things.

“Alright, I think it’s time to get you home, huh?” You say looking at your sister.

“Noooo I wanna stay.” She pouts as she curls closer into Eddie.

“Kels, it’s late and Eddie and I both have work tomorrow.” You argue.

“It’s okay, let her stay the night. You can stay too.” Eddie responds, earning an annoyed look from you. He wraps his arms around her as they both look at you with their best puppy dog eyes, and in unision let out a whiny pleaseeee.

You sigh, eventually giving in. “Fine. But you’re going to sleep by 10pm sharp.” Eddie looks at her and winks, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around her.

You sit next to Eddie, cuddling into his other side as he places a blanket on top of you as well.

“My favorite girls.” He smiles before placing a kiss on your forehead as he starts another movie.

The three of you watch the movie in almost total silence, until Kelsey’s soft snores break through. Eddie looks down at her passed out in his lap, and he starts playing with her hair to soothe her.

“When can we have one?” He asks unexpectedly. You were focused on the movie while nearly falling asleep yourself, so you didn’t fully register it at first.

You lift your head up from his shoulder and mumble a simple hm?

“When can we have one?” He asks again with just as much sincerity, this time turning his attention towards you.

You scoff, thinking he’s joking before his face tells you a different story. “Oh, you’re serious.” He chuckles softly and kisses your lips softly.

“Deadly. This is all I want. Spending nights with you and our own little munchkin.” He looks back over at a sleeping Kelsey, smiling from ear to ear. “What a dream.”

“We’re only in our 20s, babe. Haven’t even got a place to ourselves yet.” You were always the voice of reason in situations like these.

“So we’ll get a place. We’re looking anyway. We’ll get a place, and we’ll save up, and… and we’ll have a baby. A family.” He continues trying to reason with you, his eyes practically pleading with you to say yes.

You think about it for a moment, think about how nice it would be to start a family with Eddie. But, you know it’s not something you can just decide right now.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Just get some sleep right now, okay?” You kiss his cheek and cuddle up closer into his side, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

He smiles and nods, wrapping his arms around the both of you and placing a soft kiss to both of your heads. “Goodnight, sweets.”

[annebaby]

invisible string pt. 2⋆

hello everyone! i am so thankful for the amount of love on my last short story... thank you! one of my dearest friends requested a part two to this small story, so here it is.

enjoy!

warnings: fem!reader x tomblyth, pure fluff, use of Y/N.

Your jog home seemed effortless, due to the energy you had surrounding your newfound date with Tom. Sure, you’d just met him. Sure, he could be scary. But God, was he pretty. His blue eyes held nothing but kindness - something that seemed to be rare nowadays.

Now, jogging through your neighborhood, everything is alive. The streets are full, horns honking, and people buzzing. It was all setting the stage for a beautiful, happy day.

As you enter your townhome, you immediately take off your shoes, not even undoing the laces. You’re wriggling out of your leggings as soon as you hit the bathroom tile, throwing your airpods on the ground and not caring where they went. You simply couldn’t wait to get ready for coffee with Tom.

Although it might have been the quickest shower yet, you made sure to make yourself squeaky clean and as good-smelling as possible. You laughed at yourself exiting the shower, remembering how you acted on your very first date.

It had been awhile since your last date, no one really catching your eye. It was hard being alone, no doubt. You just had a way of holding out hope for someone who was right for you - someone who gave you butterflies by a mere glance. That someone could be Tom.

You couldn’t explain it, but bumping into him seemed intentional. It seemed like it was meant to happen, like it was all falling into place, a missing puzzle piece perhaps.

You quickly dried your hair and made yourself presentable, adding a small amount of makeup before grabbing your shoes. It had surprisingly been 45 minutes already, most of your time consisted of choosing an outfit. Coffee was nothing fancy, you kept telling yourself. You ended up in jeans, athletic shoes, and a tank top with a black leather jacket over it. Something classy, but cute.

As you reentered the streets, you were greeted with the sounds of the city once again. They gave you a reassuring comfort, showing you that they would be there for you always.

Uour walk to the park was full of many anxiety-ridden questions.

“What if i’m ditched? What if he never calls me after this? Am i going to regret this?”

Of course, none of these thoughts could be backed up by anything. Just you and your silly mind making up reasons to worry. You shook your head slightly, metaphorically expelling all the negative thoughts as you approached your meeting spot.

Unfortunately, you had beat tom there, initiating multiple related thoughts. You sat on a small cobble wall as you waited, pretending to mindlessly scroll while you anticipated his arrival.

5 minutes passed - still no Tom. You were drowning in thoughts now, feeling the pit in your chest slowly start to fully take you over. It was upsetting, but you had trained yourself to prepare for the worst.

Then, as if on cue, a thick british accent yells out your name.

“Hey! y/n!”

You smiled before looking up from your phone. You stood up and placed it in your pocket before walking towards tom.

“Was worried you weren’t gonna show,” you said. you laughed breathily, sticking your hands in your pockets.

“Well, I was worried you wouldn’t show either. Y’know, a strange man asking you for coffee isn’t quite common these days, haha.”

You look down at your shoes and crack a small joke, “Glad you’re self - aware.”

Tom laughs and clasps his hands together before asking if you’re ready to head to the coffee shop. You nod your head yes and you two embark on the short walk to the coffee spot.

The walk is filled with short jokes and quiet conversation, anything to try and fill the silence. It was a little awkward, but nothing some coffee couldn’t fix!

Tom opened the door for you as you entered the coffee shop, the aroma quickly taking over your senses.

“I love the smell of coffee,” you sigh. You look up and smile at tom, fully acknowledging the massive height difference between you two.

He practically begs for your coffee order, insisting that he pays. Once you give in, he tells you to pick a spot and he will return with the drinks shortly.

You choose a small two seat table close to the pickup spot for the drinks. You use this time to fully admire tom’s profile (because duh).

His chocolate hair is still laying across his forehead messily, and his hands are sitting in the front of his jacket pockets. He was unbelievably hot, yet he was mixed with something so innocently cute as well.

You quit staring as he approached with both coffees in hand, his gummy smile spreading to your face as well.

“I’ve never been here before, do you come here often?” You asked.

You took a sip of your coffee, feeling the hot liquid run down your throat. It was some of the best coffee you’d had.

“Yeah, this is actually one of my favorite places. I come here all the time when i get a chance to.”

He smiled and looked down at his coffee. Lord he was so perfectly crafted! You smiled and complimented the coffee before you two conversed on about random things.

Before you know it, two hours have gone by and all the awkwardness has disappeared. You had learned many things about Tom: he was an actor (wow, really?), he was very intelligent, he was from birmingham, and he owned a motorcycle. These were just a few of the things that stuck out to you, but there was truly so much to like about him.

He had slipped a few flirty jokes in whenever he could, but you tried your best you expect the worst once again. Your hopes had continuously bet let up before, you weren’t going to let a handsome Brit come in and ruin you.

As you exited the coffee shop, he stood across from you as you both said goodbye.

“It was really nice getting coffee with you, y/n. you’re really sweet,” he said. He smiles down at you and you make eye contact.

“Thank you, Tom. I really enjoyed it too! I appreciate the coffee as well, it was really good.”

Tom nodded, not saying anything.

Had you really made something out of this? Did you really think this boy could ever like you? What were you thi-

Your thoughts quickly stopped as he stepped closer to you and gently grabbed your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss. His lips were soft and they tasted like vanilla. His hands were cold on your face, but you didn’t mind.

The kiss didnt last long as he pulled away, eyes closed and smiling. You looked at him with wide-eyes as he took both your hands into his.

“I could tell you were lost in thought.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. He laughed.

“I’ll meet you here again, yeah? Would tomorrow work for you? Breakfast?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. He was asking you on another date?

“Yeah - I - I mean that sounds perfect!”

He smiled and quickly gave you a kiss on your cheek before heading off. You prayed he didn’t see you jump around like a little girl.

Your walk home filled with phone calls to your friends, explaining the dreamy man you had just met up with. They all seemed happy for you.

You were happy too. About halfway through your walk home, you popped in your airpods to keep the mood going.

The first song that played was “Invisible String."

[itendtothinkalot]

stupid in love

Summary: why can the whole world see how in love you are with soobin but he can’t? 

Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, comedy, 

Characters: soobin x f!reader, friends!txt x reader, idol!reader, idol!txt

Words: 2,696

Completed (oneshot)

Note: i didnt proofread this 

You weren’t necessarily sure when your feelings for Soobin had been amplified but you knew it was just weeks after the two of you had met. You were the only female trainee in Big Hit at that point of time which made it difficult for you to find other female friends but you pulled through with the little you had.

You had debuted just a year before TXT did as a solo artist. You could say you did fairly well as an artist. Not to bust your own balls but your fanbase had been incredibly strong and supportive. You weren’t going to lie, you did have hopes to debut in a girl group, you were incredibly lonely at times but you did have the boys to lean on when you needed, afterall they were your friends in private and publicly. 

“I just ate! Thank you for asking!” You answered, as you scrolled through the copious amount of comments pouring in. 

Huening chuckled, “Wait! Did you see that comment?” 

You shook your head. Huening aggressively scrolled through the comments, finally landing on a comment that aggravated you.

‘When are you announcing your relationship with Soobin?’ You read in your head before shooting a glare at Kai, who knew of your one-sided crush.

The fans of TXT and yours had been fed with more than enough content from the both of you. Ever since you had announced your close friendship with TXT through multiple instagram stories, your friendship had blown up in several ways. From photoshoots to variety shows, the fans loved your friendship. You weren’t very surprised that there were pairings of you and the different members but you were extremely surprised to find out that Soobin and you weren’t the most popular pairing that people liked especially since fans had called you out for looking at Soobin with honey dripping from your eyes and well…they were right. 

“And the winner of today’s episode is the both of you!” The producer handed you and Soobin the prize.

You looked over to the taller male and grinned. He looked great that day. His dishevelled black hair, his collared blue shirt that you thought he looked great in, the tight jeans that accentuated his very rounded plum of an ass (not that you’d ever say that to him). You were completely aware that you WERE looking…no…staring at him with actual honey tears. Your eyes complete crescents as you stared at his lips, then to his nose then to his eyes in complete. utter. adoration.  

Oh fuck, you were still recording.

“AAAAAH!” Beomgyu screamed in agony, dragging you out from your train of thought. “THAT’S UNFAIR! FUCK!” He continued cursing. 

You made a mental note to check out the episode when it was posted. It was definitely getting censored. You continued laughing as you teased Beomgyu who had been working a little too hard to win the game the producers had prepared only to lose because you and Soobin had correctly guessed that he was the mafia. 

“Come on! You were so obvious!” You fought, taunting him further.

“OH REALLY? HOW?!” Beomgyu’s face reddened every minute he thought of how close he was to winning. His fists curled as he ran towards you – jokingly of course. The two of you had a love-hate relationship and the show thrived with the help of your relationship dynamics with Beomgyu. It was mainly the reason why you would’ve guessed there were many MANY many many edits of you and him on Tiktok. 

“I am literally disgusted.” You belched, as your eyes were glued onto the screen. A video of you and Beomgyu looking at each other while Chris Browns’ ‘Under the Influence’ played. “Why did you have to show me that?”

“I’m just saying…we would’ve made a good looking couple if it wasn’t for your ginormous crush on Soobin.” Beomgyu teased.

“Say it louder…I’m sure he didn’t hear you! I dare you, Choi Beomgyu.” Your hands rushed to cover his big fat mouth. 

“Relax, he’s still recording. You know it’s about time you told him you liked him. It’s been 4 years.” Beomgyu laughed.

As much as Beomgyu annoyed you, you knew he was right.

You were making coffee on the set of your variety show. You felt your eyes closing from the long hours of filming and definitely needed another cup of 3-in-1 coffee. It was 3am. You don’t think your assistant could find a 24/7 starbucks anywhere near the suburbs of Korea even if they tried. 

“Hey.” Soobin greeted, his hands fiddling with the lint in his pockets as he stood beside you, eyeing your every move. 

Using your teeth to open the packet of coffee, your eyes lazily looked up at him, giving him a slight nod before turning your head back to your styrofoam cup. 

“Someone’s sleepy.” He laughed. 

“Give me a break. I’ve been up since yesterday filming my album photoshoot and now I’m here playing the wildest version of duck duck goose with Beomgyu yelling every now and then. The only thing keeping me sane right now is that you’re here.” You blurted. 

“Well…that’s kind of why I’m talking to you.” Soobin reasoned.

“Huh?”

“You drink coffee to stay awake. I talk to you. You’re like my own shot of espresso.” 

As tired as you were, you could feel blood rushing to your cheeks. You turned away, hoping he wouldn’t catch your tomato coloured cheeks. 

“You’re an idiot.” You mumbled through your teeth, biting your cheeks to hide your smile.

“Gyu was right.” 

“What? What did he say?” 

“You show affection through aggression. Maybe that’s why I kind of thought you liked him.” Soobin said, before finding his way back on set.

After that conversation with Soobin, you sort of strayed away from him. Did he know you like him? Why was he being incredibly strategic and quiet about it? You didn’t wanna find out. Not till you were forced to.

“And you’re watching Buzzfeed’s balance game!” The 6 of you shouted harmoniously.

Beomgyu rummaged through the tub of questions, using his grubby hands to pull out a question. 

“Would you rather be able to travel to the future or go back to the past?” 

The 6 of you thought long and hard for the question, bickering back and forth to what your answers were. 

“The next question!” Kai said as he pulled another question from the jar. 

“Would you rather confess to someone you like or be confessed to?” 

Beomgyu and Kai’s eyes landed on you almost immediately. You rolled your eyes and nudged the both of them, hoping that the producers at Buzzfeed would cut that specific part out.

“I think my best friend should answer this question.” Beomgyu giggled as he passed the floor to you.

“I…um… I think I’d rather be curious of the persons’ feelings towards me rather than be flat out rejected. I don’t think I could ever handle being rejected especially from someone I truly like.” 

“Why are you so sure the person you’d like would reject you?” Yeonjun butted in. 

“I’m just saying…! This is hypothetical!” 

“But you do know you’re really pretty and funny, right?” Kai spoke. 

“GUYS! THIS IS HYPOTHETICAL! DON’T MAKE THIS SAD AND INTO SOMETHING IT’S NOT!” 

“We’re just saying… we love you!  And if you do get rejected, there’s always Beomgyu!” Kai chuckled. 

“Don’t make me throw up.”

“Wait, wait, wait but like what if the person likes you back?” Taehyun joined. 

“Are we really prolonging this terrible conversation?”

“But Taehyun’s right! What if the person likes you? Would you confess then?” This time it was Soobin who spoke.

“I mean I wouldn’t know if he did like me or not! Besides, I’d only confess if I was really really reaaally sure.” 

“Then what about you?” Yeonjun looked over to Soobin.

“I’m the same. I’d have to be sure she felt the same way as me to confess.”

What was the point of that horrid game? Did Beomgyu and Kai team up with the producers and coerced you into this stupid interview? God, everyone’s gonna know you’re in love with Soobin and everyone’s gonna know you’re probably getting rejected.

You cringed as you scrolled past tiktok to see the amount of edits that had come out from that stupid Buzzfeed video. Everyone was editing your comment and adding emotional Billie Eillish songs to it and you felt your fingers curl from pure cringe and agony. You loved your fans but God, they were making you look like you had already been rejected by Soobin. 

The only relief you got from Tiktok was that all your fans were too busy laughing at you rejecting Beomgyu to realise you had been staring at Soobin the entire time you had discussed the question.

“I don’t know how people are still shipping you and I together. I thought I made it clear you were gross.” You cried to Beomgyu who was still giggling at the tiktok edits of the both of you. 

“Don’t blame them! Everyone loves a good enemies to lovers trope!” Beomgyu shoved another tiktok to your face. “You know…I’m really surprised no one caught you going gaga over Soobin. Maybe it’s because I’m friends with you, I can sense the look of absolute desperation and pining on your face. Which to be fair, is like your only look when you’re with Soobin.”

“Do you have anything else to say to me besides the usual you look desperate for Soobin?” 

“No. Not really.”

Turns out, people did end up noticing the look you gave Soobin. Beomgyu was right. Your crush on Soobin was spiralling. It was about time the netizens found out about your crush. You weren’t being careful. You weren’t being quiet about it either. Your face said it all. 

Going on the internet a day after wasn’t that great either. Here you were on the forums looking at your shared fandom clowning you. 

PRETTY SURE SHE LIKES SOOBIN 

Guys…was i the only one that noticed how she was looking at soobin? Do you think somethings going on? Hahaha to be honest i found it quite cute! I like her and Beomgyu together but i think i may abandon ship and jump aboard this ship instead!!!!

1. [+164, -14] Honey couple finally being recognised ㅋㅋㅋ 

2. [+133, -10] Noooo! I want the enemy couple to be together!

3. [+103, -5] Everyone’s talking about how she’s looking at Soobin but why is no one talking about how Soobin is looking at her in this video? ㅋㅋㅋ [link]

Now that caught your attention. Your fingers hurriedly pressed the link the fan had posted and it had brought you to an edited video of the recent episode of your shared show that had been aired.

It was right after the both of you had won the round. You had forgotten to watch the episode though you had promised yourself to watch it. You got busy with your schedule and barely had time for yourself.

As Beomgyu was screaming, the fan had cropped the part of the video of only you and Soobin. Straight after being snapped out of your train of thought, you had focused solely on Beomgyu who had continued his neverending cursing. Soobin was there, eyes glued onto you. His lips stretched from ear to ear every single time you laughed or smiled or showed any sort of reaction. You didn’t realise that his eyes were stuck on you. It hadn’t moved for a solid 3 minutes and 34 seconds. 

Holy fuck. Does Soobin like me back?

You felt your fingers working its way to text Beomgyu this video. 

‘GYU…Is this proof?!??!!??!?!’ You typed out and hit send.

Not realising that you had posted it on your…main. Instagram. Stories. 

Your eyes widened at your horrifying mistake. Only a second had passed and you were sure 100 people had already seen it. All of a sudden your brain didn’t work. Your hands didn’t move fast enough and soon it was a 1000. Finally, the video got deleted but…to no avail. Thousands of fans had the luck of screen recording the video that you had posted with your actual caption. You were dead.

The next thing you knew your phone was blowing up.

Hueninggie: NOONA…PLEASE…STEP AWAY FROM YOUR PHONE.

Gyu: when i told you to update me i didnt mean on ig stories…omg ure so dumb but thanks for the shoutout lol

Yeonjun: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

Taehyun: I literally thought you were smarter than all of us. I guess I’m the dumb one for believing that.

Soobin: ?

You shook your head. No…no…no…not Soobin. NOT SOOBIN. Anyone but him. 

“AHHH!” You squeaked, throwing your phone across the room. 

You had to film the new episode of your show in about an hour and here you were a coffee in one hand and your dignity falling out of your ass every second. You felt everyones’ eyes on you as you quietly made your way to the dressing room. 

“DON’T!” You yelled as you walked in and looked over to your stylists who had started giggling the moment you entered. “Please don’t…” 

After you were done with hair and make up, you had sent your stylists away to get you some coffee though you didn’t need any. You just needed time alone before the inevitability of your doom had begun (filming with the love of your life who doesn’t feel the same way and how the world knows you’re in love with him even though he’s not and your life is falling apart but ok whatever).

You had alerted the boys not to annoy you when you were in the dressing room. You did not want to see them or hear anything from them after the messages they had sent you but the knocks on your dressing room door was getting more infuriating. Stomping to the door, you opened it, scowling, “Gyu, I will castrate you like a cat if you don’t fuc- Soobin!” You panicked. Your eyes doubled in size as the last bit of your sanity left you.

“Hi.” The bags under his eyes were prominent. He still looked as handsome as ever but he did look incredibly lethargic. At that point, it had already been 3 days since you posted the instagram story and 2 days and 23 hours since you hadn’t replied to his punctuated message. “Did I do something wrong?” His voice breaking.

“What?” You immediately grabbed both his hands and pulled him to sit on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” Immediately, concern was the first thing that washed over you. Fuck how YOU were feeling over this, Soobin was way more important!

“I’ve been wracking my brain and I thought you liked me but you didn’t reply me or call me…is this a sick joke?”

“What?”

“When you posted that video I was sure you liked me. I got really excited about it and went to Gyu and he told me it was an accident and that I should really talk to you about it but I tried to and you ignored me for 3 days straight. Did I do something wrong?”

“Soo-”

“I was wrong in that interview. I was wrong when I said I agreed with you. I need to know. I need to know if you like me and I need you to reject me so I can move on.”

You could feel your soul levitating out of your body and looking back at you in the cheesiest way possible. Soobin liked you back? 

“I can’t reject you.” You drifted off.

“God…I know I said I like you but you can’t just be selfish and keep me fo-”

“Let me finish! I like you. I think I’ve liked you for about 4 years now.”

“Oh. That’s a really long time.” Soobin scratched the back of his head as he blinked his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m basically a pro at one-sided crushes.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” Soobin reached out for your hands once more, resting his large palms above your hands, his fingers dangling out from the corners of your palms, his nails caressing your thighs. 

“For?” You chuckled, trying not to be hyper aware of his touch. 

“For taking so long to realise my feelings for you.”

[swampthingking]

i’m excited for a million things in tsc, but right now i’m thinking about if/how nora will write the dynamic between jean and jeremy. (even if jerejean doesn’t happen, i anticipate jeremy’s kindness towards jean to be a part of the story.)

i can see jean wanting to push jeremy for a multitude of reasons. i can see jean feeling untrustworthy of jeremy’s optimism and wanting to push him, like, “there’s no way you’re really like this. i want to see who you are behind the cameras.” jean kind of starts prodding jeremy to see what makes him tick. what makes him snap. what he does when he snaps, what he says. if he’s violent. especially if they’re rooming together (my hc is that jeremy volunteers himself to room with jean. he trusts his teammates, but feels responsible as the captain for making sure jean gets settled). in that case, i imagine jean would either:

1, rile him up on purpose so he doesn’t have to anticipate when jeremy snaps, that way he can control when it happens. and once he knows the signs, he can protect himself in the future.

i think eventually, jeremy will get fed up at jean’s antagonism (because let’s face it, jean is going to be a bitch at some point or another and i cannot wait for it) but jeremy won’t react the way jean is expecting. maybe his face gets red, his ears turn pink. he starts to breathe a little heavier, maybe his fists clench, and jean is preparing to be hit. he went through jeremy’s things—knows he doesn’t carry any weapons—but jeremy lifts enough to pack a punch. so he waits. but jeremy just says, “i am not in the right headspace to have a conversation right now.” and leaves the dorm. jean doesn’t feel bad necessarily, just perplexed. a little pissed, honestly. like, “i put in all this effort to piss you off, and you just walk away?” and kind of wants to be hurt. exy and pain were the only constants in his life for years—they went hand in hand, that doesn’t just go away overnight. if jean pulled this shit at the nest, he would have been dealt with ages ago. not being hit is almost worse, because he at least was expecting that. he wasn’t expecting an emotionally intelligent, “i need space to think.”

eventually jeremy comes back, sees jean sitting on the bed, just waiting, and he says, calm and collected, “i can understand your transfer wasn’t ideal, but i’m not trying to make your life harder. i want you to feel safe. i want you to feel independent. and eventually, i want you to be happy, whenever you’re ready. but you’re not going to take your anger out on me, and you’re not going to take it out on the rest of the team.” and jean is just kind of??? stunned??? like?? is this a fucking joke?? but jeremy is just standing a safe distance away, with his arms crossed, waiting for jean to say something. so jean nods, kind of dumbfounded, still a little on edge, because what the fuck do you say to that? how do you argue with someone who saw through your bullshit plan and completely disarms you? and jeremy asks if jean’s eaten, if he wants to go get food with him, or if he wants to be alone.

or 2, jean will stay very silent and still and try his hardest to steer clear of jeremy as to not attract any attention to himself. make himself small and avoid conflict. “if i don’t make any noise and i am a ghost, i can’t be hurt. if i do nothing wrong, i can covet this minuscule, yet fleeting comfort. my bones just healed, let me prolong this feeling.” maybe jean doesn’t want to even try to push jeremy. maybe he doesn’t speak for awhile after he arrives at scu, doesn’t want to say anything to incriminate riko or the ravens or the moriyamas; the blind, forced loyalty still ingrained into him. i can see him just observing his new surroundings. analyzing his new team, watching how they interact with one another, being stunned at the individualism that’s normal to these people. they don’t need to be paired at all times— the raven buddy system doesn’t exist here. i can see jean kind of paralyzed and overwhelmed at all the places he could go if he wanted to, but not leaving his dorm very often at all.

and i can see jeremy just wanting jean to be comfortable. he could either:

1, watch jean, learning how he moves, what makes him startle, what he does and doesn’t like based off his body language. i can see jeremy picking up quickly that the nest was a horrible place, just based off his interactions with the ravens on the court, but also from the press. being so deeply disturbed to see the aftermath of the nest in the way jean reacts to loud noises. how jean shuts down after a trojan claps him on the shoulder. i wonder if, after a winning game, jeremy will try to talk to jean about it and say, “you played so well, are you proud?” and jean replying, “i’m relieved.” and jean didn’t know the gravity of the truth he gave away, but jeremy understands. can read between the lines well enough to understand why jean is relieved. so jeremy says, “well, i’m proud of you.” and jean doesn’t look at him, but he’s a bit too expressive to hide his feelings, and he fidgets when he’s nervous, despite how desperately he tries to tamp down his feelings, because burying them is easier than letting them seep to the surface.

or 2, he could accept that jean is going to take a long time to come around, if at all, and not really bother with trying so hard. i could see jeremy treating jean like every other trojan, just without the touches and hugs, as they all learned quickly that jean hates being touched. he tries to include jean, always offers for him to tag along, to join them in doing whatever they’re going to do. he wants the best for jean, yeah, but he doesn’t give him any special treatment. and maybe that’s what could help jean come around, just a tiny bit. even just joining jeremy to the cafeteria for dinner. even just sitting in the living room to do work, rather than in the bedroom. maybe being treated like everyone else would be beneficial to jean, seeing jeremy model positivity and reflecting that treatment back onto jean. and of course jeremy would be proud if/when jean came around, but there’s no expectations, and maybe that’s what puts jean at something resembling ease. that nobody expects anything of him and here’s no pressure to be any type of way, and for once in his life he can figure out who he is and who he wants to become.

anyway, sorry for the essay. i have ample thoughts about aftg in general, but tsc has kind of been on my mind a lot :)

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red Ch 1/17

Chapter 1: Afternoon Coffee

Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: Flirting, mentions of his cock and her cleavage.

A/N: This was supposed to be a wee one shot that jumped into my mind. Apparently there is more to this story than I originally planned. More chapters will be forthcoming as I finish them.

Message me or leave in in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

@purejasmine @slowsweetlove @richardslady121 @austinbutlerslovers

Chapter 1: Afternoon Coffee

She wore red today. Because a woman of her age can wear whatever the fuck they want and she was feeling the Spring day deep in her bones. She wasn’t old, nah. Never old. Just perfectly seasoned. And everyone knows that seasoned things are more tasty than basic boring things. Yeah, she said it, the young were boring. Most didn’t really know themselves yet and were burdened with too many fucks to give. Youth was easily pretty, but when you dig deeper, they tended to be bland. It’s not their fault, they just don’t know what they don’t know.

Her seasoning was confidence and self worth, the kind that only really comes when you make it through the lessons life gives you and you realize that all those fucks you had been giving were completely misplaced and futile. Fucks about how people you’d never meet again judged you on your body. Fucks concerning all that bullshit societal programming around female sexuality, about how good girls didn’t crave sex. Fucks about how people would react if they knew that the reason she ‘couldn’t keep a partner’ was that really because just one couldn’t keep up with her. She was voracious. Now she saves her precious few fucks that she has left to give for things that really mattered: pure unadulterated joy and things that made her feel delicious and sexy.

It was a beautiful day, warm and full of that awakening potential of springtime. She felt glorious. She had decided to walk from her office to the coffee shop for an early afternoon pick-me-up. Almost on the prowl, eyeing every beautiful person that passed behind her dark sunglasses. There were several lovely specimens. She walks into her favorite coffee shop to wait in line behind a blonde man. He was tall, about 6’2’. Her eyes scan down the lean triangle of his back, covered by a white shirt. She takes in his well muscled arms and lean waist and the outline of his fine ass under his light jeans. She notes the heeled boots, ah, so more like 6ft. Damn, from this angle this man was an outstanding specimen. “Mmm,” her appreciative moan is louder than she realizes. He turns around in response.

He is just standing there, minding his own business, hoping no one would recognize him. Thankfully the little coffee shop is not at all busy. One other customer is in front of him, placing a big order. He had just come from a much needed haircut. Mira was amazing in so many ways. She was so down to earth. It was easy to talk to her in her friendly garage barbershop. He told her how he was single again and how he didn't think he’d find anyone who’d want him for him. The women he’d dated recently all seemed to be with him just for the fame of dating him. Mira had hugged him and counseled him to hold out hope, “they are out there,” she had declared, “they just might not be where, or who, you think they should be.” He is mulling this over in his mind as he waits in line when he hears an appreciative noise behind him. Weird he hadn’t heard anyone come in behind him. He must have been really in his head. He glances over his shoulder and sees her. A woman in red. He tries to look away but can’t help turning back. His gaze passes over the flare of her skirt with the big black buttons trailing up the side of the dress and contouring her curves. The square neckline just teases at her ample cleavage and the thick straps at her shoulders draws his attention to her long hair. Her dark sunglasses did little to hide the fact that she is staring right at him with a little smirk.

He liked to think of himself as a student of human behavior, in a way. She had obviously been checking him out. He was used to this, women oogled him all the time. Usually from behind barriers at red carpets and near press locations. Although lately it had been happening everywhere, even in his own neighborhood, where people had been seeing him for years. Women called his name across the street and sometimes cried when he waved at them. He knew it wasn’t really HIM they were gaga over, but the illusion, the idea of him. It was all mixed, he knew, with his portrayal of Elvis. How could The King not have had an effect on his public persona. But she is different. She doesn’t giggle nervously, doesn’t shake or fawn over him. It’s like she just doesn’t know. She pushes up her sunglasses to the top of her head and looks him in the eye. Her smirk spreads into a sly smile across her face and she nods at him with a flick of her eye brow. An unexpected jolt hits him in the gut.

She watches him glance over his shoulder, then do a double take. ‘Yup, that’s right sir… take in the awesomeness,’ she thinks. His eyes travel up her body and land on her face. She pushes up her sunglasses, looking him right in the eye. His blue eyes go wide at her blatant acknowledgment of his once over. Once he turns around, she sees that the backside of this man is just the amuse bouche. She swears he looks familiar. He is objectively handsome. His sharp jaw is shadowed with a little scruff. His slightly unruly hair is not at all what it seems, but styled so every hair is in perfect place to look disheveled. Suddenly she is thinking what his hair would look like actually mussed, and in between her legs. As though he can see her thoughts, he looks down a little bashfully, then back at her licking his lips. His beautiful, full lips curl into a smile and his high cheekbones pop. She can’t help the intake of breath as his smile sends sparks to her stomach.

“Can I help you?’ says the barista, who had been waiting.

He turns back around, a little addled by the wordless exchange. “Yes, sorry, um… I’ll have a sugar free caramel oat milk latte please.” he says, then decides to be bold. “And whatever the lady would like,” he turns to her, “if I may.”

She looks at him, licking her lips. His voice is deep, resonant and reaches into her belly and tightens. "You may, but only if you will sit and drink it with me,” she counters. He nods. “I’ll have the same, but make it a cappuccino, I love the foam,” she says with a wink to him, “ oo and a blueberry scone please.” He adds a cinnamon scone to his order as well. “Can I get a name?” the barista seems bored at the flirtation they are witnessing. “Austin,” he says. As he pays, she goes to sit at a table in the corner.

He can’t quite believe he is doing this. He is not this guy! But there is something about her that pulls at him. She is definitely not his usual date. He had been dating actresses and models for years, girls so thin he thought he might break them. She was voluptuous and seductive, even though he didn't think she was trying to seduce him. Every move she made said she really lived in her body, a woman who knew herself. He suddenly found it very sexy.

“I’m Austin, by the way,” he says, putting down the plates of scones and putting his hand out. ‘Yes, I heard,” she takes his hand, “I’m Aya. Thank you, Austin,” she says, pulling a plate over. He sits, nervously rubbing with the ring on his right hand. “Do you do this often?” she asks, taking a bite of her scone. “What, get coffee?” he says. “No, check out women and offer to buy them drinks,” she smiles. “Oh no,” he shakes his head, blush rising in his face, “Well to be fair, I was checking you out too, so we are even there,” she winks playfully at him, taking another bite. “No, I don’t ever…I’m actually really shy,“ he looks bashfully away. “Oh hunny, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” she says, dialing down the flirt level. “No, it’s ok,” he looks back at her, eyes bright, “I like it, I am, uh, weirdly drawn to things that make me uncomfortable. What about you, do you usually take men up on offers to buy you drinks?” he asks, putting his focus on her. “It happens less than you may imagine these days,” she confesses, “most people are too involved in their phones or social media to notice what’s around them. Plus, this is LA and if you are not rail thin with something fake somewhere, people don’t think to look at you twice. But that’s fine, I am me and me is good.” “I don't think what people look like matters nearly as much as how they carry themselves or care about themselves,” Austin says with a little blush in his cheeks. “Preach!” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “Order for Austin” says the barista. Aya jumps up to get the drinks. “No, let me” he says, going to get up. She turns around holding out a hand as if to say, ‘I got his, just sit.’ She saunters over, hoping to god he is watching her round ass swish her skirt back and forth. He is. “Honestly,” he continues as she sits, “I can’t imagine anyone NOT seeing you twice. You are beautiful.” “Thank you Austin, that’s very kind coming from someone so objectively handsome and probably ten years younger than me.” He gentlemanly refuses to walk through the ‘oh how old ARE you’ door, instead he just smiles and blushes again. Damn he has a winning smile. “Wait a second, ‘see me twice’? Does this mean you’d like to see me again?” a devilish smile crosses her face teasingly. She dips her finger into the foam of her coffee, licking it off. “Yes, I would,” he says quickly and seriously.

They spend the next half hour dancing on the edge, flirting with one another. His shyness gets less and less the more they talk. Her joi-de-vivre shines through the flirtation. The spark between them is palpable. They are so absorbed in one another, that they don’t even notice the people coming and going from the coffee shop. Aya still has this feeling in the back of her mind that she’s seen him before, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. He said he was an actor, so maybe she’d seen him in a thing or two, but let’s be real, this is L.A. and everyone is an actor. Austin is happily astounded that she doesn’t recognize him, even when he mentioned he was an actor, although he didn’t say his last name. It was like a breath of fresh air, one he didn’t know he needed. In this moment, he got to be just a man meeting a woman. He looks at his watch, “I uh, I have a meeting I need to get ready for, I’d really love to see you again.” “I’d like that too, give it here,” she holds out her hand for his phone. He opens it and hands it to her. She taps in her number and sends herself a text before handing it back. Her phone buzzes. “See, it’s actually my number,” she holds up her own phone. She abruptly stands up and shoos him over in the booth, sitting next to him. She leans back against him and takes a selfie with him. “There, I always put pictures in my contacts.”

When Aya puts her hand out for his phone, Austin doesn’t even think twice about handing it over, something he never did upon meeting anyone. There is just something about her that makes him feel… safe. When she perches next to him and leans her body against his, he can barely think straight. Luckily, his selfie smile is so ingrained as to be second nature anytime anyone holds up a phone. She lingers against him as she fills in the contact info. He finds himself staring over her shoulder right down her cleavage. Oh fuck, she smells good too, like sweet oranges and vanilla and clean. “Um.. yeah th-that’s a good idea.” He holds his phone out, she leans in closer to him, hand on his thigh. It takes all of his acting training to not let out a little whimper at her touch. Did Aya know what she was doing when she touched his thigh? Of course she did. He said he liked things that made him uncomfortable, so she decided to push him a little and see what he’d do. After taking the picture, he covers her hand with his, holding it there.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks all of a sudden. The breath of Austin’s words flow over her shoulder and down her cleavage. The warmth of his unexpected hand makes her breath hitch slightly in her throat. She turns her head to look up at him and she is lost in his gaze. His blue eyes sparkle from this close distance, his plush lower lip quivering just slightly. A little lean in and she could capture that lip. And suddenly she wants to kiss him. It takes all her willpower NOT to kiss him.

His thumb strokes the back of her hand lightly. He barely knows he’s doing it. In fact he is unsure exactly when he covered her hand with his own. Her fingers feel slightly chilled to his warm hand. There is no time for self doubt as he blurts out the question. All he knows is that he wants to spend more time with her. Thoughts of unbuttoning those large black buttons, unwrapping her from that red fabric, and burying his face in her cleavage come unbidden to his mind. He was about to shake them from his head when she turns to look at him. His thigh tenses and his cock twitches. She is inches from his face. A little dip of his head and he could touch those daring red lips with his own. He wants to kiss her; almost needs to kiss her. It takes all his will power to keep himself put.

“What?” she blinks, realizing the meaning of his words fell apart when she turned to face him. “I asked what you are doing tonight,” he says surely, quietly. She swallows her first response, which was ‘hopefully you’. Nope, a little too forward for a shy guy. A shy guy who is holding her hand on his leg, still grazing it with his thumb. Maybe he won’t be that shy for long. “You tell me,” she settles for a safer reply. “How about I pick you up for dinner at 6?” he says, “and we can figure the rest out from there.” “Ok. How, uh, fancy do I need to dress?” she asks. “Oh please,” his eyes glance down,” wear what you have on. It’s… perfect.” She can tell he is imagining her red dress falling to the ground, perfect indeed. “Then I’ll have you pick me up from my office, it’s near here,” she pulls her hand away and texts him the address as he tries to gain control over his burgeoning hard on.

She stands up and he tries in vain not to look at her ass. He adjusts himself as he stands. They walk to the door, he holds it open for her. “Would a hug be out of the question?” he asks on the sidewalk. He wants to feel her body against his again. “Oh no, I am a hugger,” she replies with a smile, opening her arms to him. Aya rises onto her toes when he leans in to embrace her. Her arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, pressing her torso close to his. She doesn’t give him any room for doubt about her physical boundaries, or lack thereof. She inhales. The fresh scent of his hair and light woodsy essential oil mixing at the crook of his neck. A soft ‘mmmm” floats from her throat to his ear, as her arms tighten around him and she presses close for a few seconds before releasing him. She does not miss the swell of his cock pressed against her belly.

He wraps his arms around her waist albeit politely, tentatively at first. But she shows no such qualms, pulling herself into him. Her body is warm against his, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like being skin to skin with her. He tucks his head down, breathing in her refreshing yet intoxicating scent. She tightens her arms around him. The little sound of pleasure she makes almost causes him to abandon being a gentleman altogether. Flashes of taking her somewhere private and seeing what other noises she makes fill his mind as her body presses gently into his.

She pulls back but not away, hands on his shoulders. Her lip curls into a little smile as he unknowingly smolders at her. He slides his hands lightly to her hips, not realizing how familiar he is being with this woman he met not 45 minutes ago. Slowly, reluctantly, they both let their arms fall away, yet neither take a step back. The tension of their attraction is palpable between them. “I look forward to tonight, Austin,” she says, fisting her hand to stop it from cupping his crotch. He takes a deep breath as though just remembering that breathing is necessary. “As do I,” his voice is low. “Until tonight then” she takes a slow step away, unwilling to stop looking at him. “Until tonight,” he nods. Aya turns with a swirl of her skirt and starts walking towards her office. “Behold my dramatic exit,” she throws the words over her shoulder, raising a hand with a flourish. Austin shakes his head and laughs, watching her walk away. ‘Dear god,’ he thinks,’how am I ever gonna be able to focus for the rest of the day?’

[the-himawari-otome]

[Shuuen no Virche] Birthday Short Story - Jean

The birthday celebration of a certain Claude family butler

<Original post here>

･ﾟ･:,｡★ translation under the cut ★,｡･:･ﾟ

At the Claude residence—

Jean: Young master, I'm back from my shopping trip. I'll prepare your meal right away, so please wait a moment—.

Mathis: Wah, Jean! You're home already...!?

Jean: ? What's the matter? You're quite flustered. I can't go inside if you're standing in the way of the door...

Mathis: E-Err, um! You can't go in yet, Jean! Go shop some more until the sun sets!

Jean: Why do I have to go again... *Sigh*. I see how it is, young master—.

Mathis: (Gulp)...!

Jean: You slacked off on your studies and got absorbed in writing your novels again, didn't you? I told you to make sure you finish all your assignments properly...

Mathis: Huh? Ah, um, well...

Jean: There's no point lying to me. If that's the case, then I shall oversee your studies myself. I'm confiscating your manuscript papers until you're done. Now then, let's head back inside.

Mathis: Ah. Hold on, Jean! You really can't go in~~...!!

*CLICK*

Yves: Oh! Jean's back already? We're not finished getting everything ready though...

Lucas: Oh my. It looks like Mathis's attempts to stall him have failed.

Jean: Oh, all of you gathered here while I was away. It looks like the room has been fixed up lavishly for some reason. What in the world...

Adolphe: Ahh. You see, that's...

Ankou: I suppose we have no choice but to confess now...

Jean: ...Ah. I see what's happening here, young master. You were planning to hold another sleepover with everyone without telling me, weren't you?

Ankou: ...Err, hm?

Jean: Goodness. While it's wonderful you have more opportunities to invite your friends now, you should look forward to that after you've finished everything you're supposed to do first.

Jean: I see everyone has made it such a lively event. However, you won't be able to entertain them if you as the host are too busy with your assignments.

Mathis: U-Umm... Jean?

Scien: Hey. This butler has no clue what's going on in the room.

Mathis: I-I'm surprised too. But now that we're at this point, I think he'll just end up forgetting and commencing my studying time if we don't tell him properly...

Jean: ? What do you mean by that—.

*CLICK*

Jean: Oh my, young miss. You've come to visit as well. However, I do apologize. I am currently in the middle of explaining the importance of studying to the young master—.

*Rustle*

Jean: ...A flower bouquet? As a gift.. it's also rather extravagant. Are you celebrating something today? We just celebrated the young master's birthday the other day...

Mathis: H-He really did forget, huh? ...Um, Jean. ...Isn't it your birthday today?

Jean: ...

Jean: —AH!!??

Yves: Ahaha. It looks like it finally hit him.

Jean: I suppose that's true... come to think of it. It completely slipped my mind.

Lucas: How strange considering he never forgets Mathis's birthday. But—that does sound like Jean.

Mathis: Fufu. I agree. Honestly, I wanted to surprise him by preparing a celebration in secret. But it can't be helped now that he knows.

Mathis: Thank you for everything, Jean. I'm truly glad—that you're my brother's butler, and a part of my family.

Jean: ...Young master.

Mathis: Me and her chose these flowers together. Will you accept them?

Jean: ...Of course. Thank you, young master. And you too, young miss—.

Jean: ...You, with beautiful blonde hair, chose these flowers together with the young master... huh?

Jean: ...You really can't fight blood, can you?

Jean: Ah, no. Don't worry about it. I was just talking to myself.

Jean: It's a great honour for a butler to have his master celebrate his birthday.

Jean: ...No matter what type of end awaits us in the future. I won't forget—.

The beauty of this bouquet. ---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

[ladydemise7]

Okay so it is 1 am and I'm bored as fuck so I wrote a lil story that's not like complete at all I js wanted to know if it's a good idea. Its a story where Jecka and Nicole don't become friends right off the bat like they do in the game

"Karen, listen I don't know if I can-" Jecka said over the phone. "Jecka you promised! You promised you'll go with me since it's my first party!" "I know, I know but my mom just got mad at me because apparently I'm not preparing for college enough and she's gonna start giving me disciplinary tattoos if she finds out I'm going. You really don't have anyone else you can go with? Like... Ari?" Karen frowned. "You know I don't talk to her.. it's fine I guess. I just won't go."

She felt bad. Karen was telling her about this party that Kelly's throwing in her house the whole week. She really seemed excited too. "Fuck, Karen you're lucky I like you. Fine ill- just.. figure out something." Immediately she could hear squealing. "Thank you Jecka!! Thank you so much" "yea no problem, Karen. I gotta go now tho okay? See you on the party." And she hung up.

She sighed and threw herself on her comfy bed. Since the start of this school year she hasn't been talking to her old friends that much. They all have different lunch periods and she's been stuck forcing herself to try and understand any of the shit Karen and Jeffrey always talk about. She likes Karen but there's not much they have in common. Kelly is a major whore so she doesn't give a fuck about her but other than that she doesn't talk to anyone that much. It's not like she's a loser who's lonely with no friends, far from that, she's a perfect ten, but she doesn't have anyone that understands her like some of her old friends did.

She sighed again and opened her flip phone. On the screen it said 2:34 am. How has it been already an hour since she talked to Karen?? She should go to sleep. So as she does, she takes her earphones and plays whatever is on her shuffle right now and slowly falls asleep.

The day of the party. Everyone from school was invited (except Jeffrey). Jecka was already on her way in her 'Jeckamobile' as Jeffrey called it, to pick Karen up. Karen really needs to stop hanging out with Jeffrey.

For tonight's party she dressed preppy as usual. A white tank top and short jeans shorts. When she pulled up to Karen's house she already saw her waiting at the front. She gets into her car and Jecka turns around to look at her. She was actually not looking that nerdy anymore. The glasses are gone and she has a green dress on.

"Hey K. You're really pretty without glasses" Karen smiled. "You're skeeting on me??" Jecka was instantly horrified. "What the fuck?" "What?" Karen asked innocently. "You gave me a compliment so you're skeeting on me! Right?" "Uh, no-? The fuck, who told you that?" "Oh, the new girl that came to our school this year!" "Who? Nevermind that, never say that again. Skeeting does not mean complimenting people." "What does it mean then?" Jecka struggled. "Uh- I..  wooww look at the time! We should.. like go." She starts to drive and puts on the radio LOUD so she can pretend she doesn't hear Karen's questions in the back.

After a few minutes Jecka turns off the car and steps out. "Okay, Karen? At the party there's gonna be a lot of men who will want to molest you so if that happens, just try to find me, mkay? I'll tell them to fuck off or something." "You're not gonna be with me the whole time?" Jecka looked at the house. A lot of people were already there. "I'm probably going to get fucked up so Uh yeah. I'll try to be around you if you want."

They walk in into the house. Loud music immediately hits their ears. Flashing lights their eyes. Jecka knows exactly how this goes. Kelly's parties are the same boring ones for virgins to get laid. She sees Ari and Emily across the room so she walks to them.

"Hey" she looks at them. On a second thought they look awfully touchy. Like  touchy. And they also smell like alcohol. "Heyy Jecka!! I didn't notice youu, when did you get here??" Ari said, while clinging onto Emily. "Just now, with Karen." Shit. Karen. Where is she? "NO way Bella Swan is here right now. Did she came with a twilight shirt on?" Emily laughed. Ari slowly clinged more onto her. "That's not nicee, Em.... I reaaally want to make out with you"

and so they did and Jecka left as quickly as she could. She took a cup of some alcohol that was on the table, hoping it wasn't mixed with some shit and took a sip. Wait. Fuck, Karen. She really needs to go find her.

She started looking everywhere for her. Crispin bumbed almost 6 times while she was running around the house and said "oohh my bad.. Wanna go out?" every single fucking time. She eventually gave up and texted her 'hey u alr?' And went to sit on a chair.

Suddenly she could her yelling. "Get your fucking hands off me, you dipshit!" Jecka looked over and saw a girl and Kylar. Of course it's Kylar trying to fuck some girl. Except this time she was surprisingly conscious. She barely recognised the girl. It was the new kid who just moved.

She didn't know anything about her, they never talked to each other. She was wearing a blue tanktop, black jeans and her hair in a ponytail. Her hair was actually really pretty. Everyone just got kind of quiet except the music and the girl yelling. "Oh come onn-" SLAM!! as soon as Kylar opened his mouth the girl hit him HARD on his face. Some people started clapping some were just shocked. Jecka just stared at the girl who now stood up and looked straight at Jecka.

She didn't break the contact until suddenly Jecka got a text message. "Hi, yeah I'm okay. I went home because I guess parties aren't my thing. Hope you have fun tho!" From Karen. When she went to look back at the girl she was gone. What the fuck.

The party came to an end and everyone went home. Jecka was still thinking about her. The way she hit him and then looked at her.. the way her eyes were incredibly blue even though the lights. Who the fuck was she?

"Who the fuck was she??" Jecka sat with Kelly at lunch. "What? Who?" "Bitch, are you even listening to me I just told you! Did Emily had fucking sales this morning in the bathroom or what the fuck?" Jecka looked annoyed at her. "She did. She even gave me a discount." "You're such- oh my god. Since when do you even do drugs?" "Helps me not think about my cousin." She said like it's a normal thing

"Ew- ew ew okay- just answer my question. Who was the girl that hit Kylar yesterday" suddenly Ari surprisingly sat next to Jecka. "I've got a question!" They looked at her. "Does anyone have Nicole's phone number??" What. "Why is everyone suddenly so obsessed with her?" Kelly was too high for this. "Ari, who's Nicole?" "You don't know? Did you see the girl who hit Kylar yesterday? That was Nicole"

Okay..  but why the fuck does she want her number "why the fuck do you want her number?" Jecka looked over at Kelly who was out of it. "No... reason?" Ari tried. "Bitch, you were just making out with Emily and *now* you're on that Nicole suddenly?" "Okay so you don't? Bye" completely ignored the question and left. As the bell rang Jecka slowly stood up too and just left Kelly there. She'll be fine.

She needs to find Nicole. Only because she seemed like the coolest bitch in this whole school. She was at her spot infront of school. Smoking and waiting for the counselour to magically appear as he did everyday. "Jecka, again with the smoking?" And so he did. "Uh.. yeah." She replied awkwardly. "I feel like this is something that I should help you with.. and talk about. We can discuss it in my office today." "Uh I think I'm..  fine. I've.. got uh a family dinner tonight too- so sorry." the only thing she had with her family tonight was arguing and arguing.

After she managed to run from the counselour she went on with her day at school. The same boring shit. She always kept looking for Nicole but she never saw her. After school she went to the mall cos she wanted to buy a new msi CD. She went into the shop with CDs and music stuff, smiled at the cashier incase she gets it for free, because that's just how men work and went to find the one she wanted.

As she finally found it, she saw Emily at the entrance. Then she saw you wouldn't believe who. Nicole. Like her in flesh almost infront of Jecka. This was her chance to talk to her. So she went up to them. "Hey Emily, what're you doing here?" "I just went to say hi to my boyfriend" and pointed at the cashier. Now she's definitely getting the CD for free. She looked at Nicole who was just kind of looking at the CD Jecka was holding. She noticed so she kind of put her hands behind her.

"You listen to msi?" Nicole actually spoke to her. "Oh, yeah. I know I don't look like I do but that's just cause my mom is crazy and she dresses me up." "Cool, my mom's a bitch too." Jecka didn't even notice Emily already left. "What's your name? I'm Nicole." "I'm Jecka" Nicole's face was full of confusion "Your parents named you Jecka?" "Short for Jessica. But that name just screams married at 20" "marriage. Never doing it" "yeah me neither"

Talking to Nicole was actually so easy. "You're the one who hit Kylar at the party right?" She knew she was the one. The eyes, the hair. It matched. "Oh my god, everyone keeps talking about it like it's a big deal. So what? A hot bitch hit a pedophile jock." Jecka chuckled. "I'm so happy someone finally did that.

He was so annoying" Nicole nodded.

"What are you doing with Emily?" "I guess she's cool? So we're friends." Oh right. Jecka's phone made a sound. It was her mom asking where she was. "Oh my fucking godd it's my mom. I gotta go now.. see you in school?" "If I don't skip" and they separated.

[twiixr4kidz]

Ell0, here with an oddly spfic request, agian. So basically I want a Matthew Patel x reader one shot but like a r0meo and juliet forbidden romance…. Thankies!! (Also pls make it in da time the rest of ur oneshots is set in) 💀🎀

uhm YES. i kinda went crazy with this so i hope you like it!! also, i can totally make a part two to this because i left it off on a cliffhanger xD

matthew patel x reader: modern romeo and juliet

you and matthew had met under unfortunate circumstances. the night you'd met, the moon was full and beaming in the sky. stars speckled the black night like sprinkles on a cupcake, and you were preparing for your last night out. your family was moving to a foreign country, and you'd barely had the time to ready yourself for it. it was already a lot to handle, on top of having to move from in-person studies to online and leaving all of your friends behind.

despite the fact that you were an adult, your parents were incredibly controlling. it was either you agreed to go, or your parents forced you, and you knew it wasn't worth fighting. so, that night, you'd gotten all dressed up to hit the town once more with your best friends. you'd cried before and you knew you were going to cry saying your goodbyes, but you wanted to live in the moment. you took a deep breath, once more checking your appearance in the mirror. you cleared your throat, and then called to your parents and let them know you'd be back soon. you'd hadn't exactly gotten their permission to go out, but who cares? it was your last little rebellion before your life was changed forever, and you had absolutely nothing to lose.

after blowing way too much money on food and clothes and other material belongings, one of your friends hit you with the idea of going to a bar. you discussed it for a little bit but the ultimate decision was "why not?"

you couldn't remember what you ordered, just that it was disgustingly sweet and a little bit fruity. after a few more drinks, you were approached by someone who looked almost like a pirate. for a bar, he was dressed awfully casually. he was wearing a black and red striped with a brown dress coat and a pair of jeans. you were on the tipsy side, and whenever you squinted at him, you swore you could see an eyepatch over one of his eyes.

"hey," he said, smoothly (not smoothly at all) sliding over to where you were standing. to be honest, he was already a little drunk and he stumbled over to you. but there was something about him that drew you to him. he had a certain glint in his eye, it was almost innocent. he seemed as if he could do no wrong, but you were still cautious.

"hey," you responded. you were a lot smoother than he was, maybe because you'd had less to drink or maybe because you were just more charismatic. whatever. the man was feeling that same pull towards you as you were to him. but the glint in your eye was more... lost. he could almost see something was wrong; you were holding something back.

"my name's matthew." he stuck his hand out, unsure if you were going to accept it.

you did. "i'm y/n."

he cracked a bit of a smile.

"and what's an attractive face like your's doing here by yourself?" you laughed off his words. "oh trust me, i'm not alone. i'm here with my friends-" you cut yourself off, seeing that your friends had dispersed and spread all around. he only nodded.

"so uh, really, what brings you here?" you sighed. you knew if you told him the story, the floodgates would open and you'd lose it.

"oh, yknow, just thought it'd be nice to get out and have some fun." yeah, no way you were telling some stranger your deepest most personal issues.

another nod from matthew.

it was quiet between the two of you, besides the pounding music that was probably damaging your poor eardrums. it wasn't that kind of awkward silence you usually get between two people who'd just met. suddenly, he stretched his arms and threw one of them around you. it was stupid, but it made you laugh. he circled your drink around in your cup and took a little sip. someone came in to the bar, and the sweet evening breeze kissed your skin ever-so-nicely.

"you wanna get some fresh air?" you asked, looking up at matthew. his eyes widened a little bit before he nodded. "it's so hot in here, i just thought it would be nice."

he kept his arm around you as the two of you walked out. before you left, you gave one of your friend the heads up that you were going to step out.

the bar wasn't super fancy, but it did have a pretty nice patio area with a couple chairs and tables. just like you'd predicted, it was cool out. the breeze felt so nice on your skin, and you pulled your hair off of your neck and basked in it. you sat down on a chair, making yourself comfortable. matthew had already done the same. he'd kicked his feet up on to one of the tables.

you looked out into the distance and took in the view. aside from the bustling bar behind you, you could hear the sounds of the city below. people in their cars, honking at other people who can't drive to save their own lives, the sound of rushing water coming from somewhere behind you, the occasional shout and holler. the lights were bright, but the moon was brighter, and the stars dotted the sky in random patterns.

"hey matthew?" you broke the silence, although your voice wouldn't raise above a whisper. "hm?" he responded.

"have you ever just wanted to run away from everything, but no matter what you try to do, you can't? like there's something keeping you from living your life, but all of your attempts to escape it are in vain? cuz you know that you aren't going to be able to?"

woah. heavy question. you cursed yourself out for asking a stranger something so personal, but you felt he was different. he WAS different.

at first, he didn't respond. he sort of looked at you, all speechless. but as he thought about it, he spoke up.

"yeah, i know what you mean. sometimes i feel like everything is kinda pointless," he paused. "is that why you're here tonight?"

you just sighed, before humming a response.

"my parents seem to think they can still control my entire life, and they've decided we're moving out of the country tomorrow. there's nothing i can do to stop them. they won't listen to reason. they want me to come with them, and they're going to stop at absolutely nothing to make it happen." so much for not telling him.

"yeah, i hear you. my parents used to be just like that. i don't really talk to them anymore." he chuckled.

it was silent again. the city lights were burning your eyes, and the bar was much too loud. tears were starting to well up in your eyes, and you tried your best to blink them away. you felt matthew's warm hand reach out for yours. and, to your own surprise, you grabbed it back.

you weren't sure how long you'd been out there for, but it had been long enough. that you knew when the friend from earlier had come to grab you. you and matthew were still sitting there in peace and quiet, holding hands. you let your friend know you'd be ready in 5 minutes, and she went back inside to grab the rest of your group.

you hesitantly let go of matthew's hand before standing up. you didn't want to leave. you didn't want to go home. you wanted to be there, in the moment. you wanted to stay. and matthew could feel how tense you'd gotten. he could tell you weren't just fucking around. he knew. he understood.

"i, uhm," you sighed. "i have to go."

before you could turn to leave, he wrapped his arm around your waist. "just another minute, please?" you looked away, pondering the answer you'd already had. of course you were going to.

"...okay."

he reached his other hand out to caress your face. his thumb rubbed your cheek as he ran his finger down your jaw. he gently held your chin in between is thumb and his pointer before looking into your eyes.

"may i?"

you nodded.

he pressed his lips against yours. his lips were soft, and he was so gentle. your body filled with warmth, tingling from head to toe. you had to hold back your excited giggles, letting him kiss you for longer. eventually, the kiss was broken, and your head rested in the crook of his neck.

"okay, now i REALLY have to go."

"can i at least have your number? so i can talk to you when you're across the country?"

you exchanged contact information and headed out with your friends. it was way later than you wanted it to be, and you were prepared to get an earful from your parents. you were dropped off at your house at about 1:30 AM, and the lights were on. you sighed, opening the front door and walking into the dining room, where your parents were seated and fuming.

they immediately bombarded you with questions. "why were you out so late? why did you leave without our permission? where did you go? who were you with? what did you do?" blah blah.

you sat down across from them, looking them in the eyes with a mixture of pain and anger. "i don't want to leave." your parents were shocked. their eyes widened, and your mother spoke up.

"you don't have a choice. why wouldn't you want to come with your parents, dear?" you rolled your eyes. "im an ADULT, mom. i don't wanna leave my friends, i don't wanna change schools, and i met a boy who-" it was your father's turn now.

"absolutely not. i forbid it. you're not staying here just because you met a boy, y/n! that's absolutely ridiculous. you aren't allowed to date just because you want to!" he was hysterical. your mother grabbed him by the arm and said, "listen, y/n, it's not happening. who even IS this boy?"

"his name is matthew patel, and-" your father cut you off yet again. "...patel? PATEL?" oh no. "no, absolutely not, a million times no! you're ridiculous, y/n. i've heard things about that patel kid. his parents have told me all i need to know. he's a disrespectful, irresponsible heathen of a man. you're not staying with him."

of course, you were distraught. you tried to explain yourself, explain how you felt, but they wouldn't listen. just like you thought. you didn't know what to. your head was swarming with thoughts, and you wanted to fall asleep and pretend none of this was real. you went to your room, slamming the door and burying yourself under the sheets. you cried until your stomach hurt and your eyes burned, and you wouldn't stop crying until nothing came out.

if only mathew were here.

[goose-duck]

Two days before March break ✏️

One Piece story about Luffy going to school but everything's wrong

Modern AU / High school AU

Warnings: implied depression, implied eating disorder

I like angst and you might not like the ending bc it's angst without comfort :>

There's an attempt at comfort, but sometimes it just doesn't work out, y'know?

~~~~~

Luffy POV:

I woke up a little before my alarm went off, only a few minutes before 6 so I just decided to to turn it off and get ready. I'd recently gotten in a lot of trouble for having missed a lot of time at school so to make up for it I've gone every day this week and last week dispite not having had weekends for the past two weeks due to drivers Ed.

I grabbed my phone and turned off my alarm which was called "good morning bitch" thanks to me not bothering to change it as the phone used to belong to Ace before he bought a new one. After turning off my alarm I sit on the side of my bed for a little while, trying to stieve off some of the tiredness from my sleep deprivation from the past two weeks. Eventually I get up, the clock says 6:15, so I know I've been sitting there for a while. I leave my room, grabbing some clothes on the way out and head to the washroom to have a shower before Ace or Sabo can since they always use all the hot water.

Once in the washroom I get a good look at myself in the mirror above the sink. My eyes have obvious bags under them and my hair is more of a mess than usual. I gently touch my face, not believing that what I was seeing in the mirror was really me. I run my fingers over the scar on my cheek, the mirror reflects this action, I know it's me I'm looking at.

I mumble to myself, "have I looked like this all week..?" Suddenly wondering if it's been this bad for a while or if it's just today that's really weighing on me.

I shake my head a bit and continue on with my morning routine. I use the toilet and dispite knowing I'll be going straight to the shower I wash my hands, not wanting to touch anything with dirty hands. I strip my clothes off and take off my jewelry. I'm aware that it's strange to wear jewelry to bed, but I know I'd forget I even own it if I didn't have it on at all times. I gently set the lotus flower necklace on the counter alone with my many rings, bracelets and my two anklets. I look at myself in the mirror one last time, sighing and turning away, getting into the shower, preparing myself for the cold water before it heats up.

While in the shower I just stand and let my thoughts and aches numb in the constant stream of hot water. It stings a little as it hits my skin, but it feels good, it feels like it's melting away all my stress, all my pain, everything, I don't have to think in this water, I can just stand here and relax.

After a little while I sigh, knowing I actually have to clean myself and I can't just stand there all day. I grab my face scrub and apply it to my face, trying to avoid getting any in my eyes. I gently wash it off after a little while, then move onto my shampoo. I grab the honey scented shampoo and put some in my hand before putting it on my head. I learned from previous times to always be sure I look at it first because Ace and Sabo once pranked me by putting dye in my shampoo bottle, my hair was green for weeks. Next I wash my body with birthday cake scented body wash that Nami bought for me, it smells amazing, it makes me wish I actually had cake.

After I get out of the shower it's around 6:40. I put moisturizer on and put my clothes on soon after. I decided to wear my friend, Law's, hoodie that I snatched from him a while back. I'm sure he won't mind me wearing it, he definitely knows by now that I have it and he hasn't asked for it back. And with that I wear some bell bottom jeans and put on some grey socks with pink hearts. I then put all of my jewelry back on and leave the washroom to go make myself breakfast.

I walk into the kitchen and make myself waffles. Sabo walks into the kitchen looking tired, he gives me a quick good morning, grabbing a granola bar and walking away to get ready for work. Seeing Sabo reminds me to leave a note for Ace, asking him to pick me up after school as I didn't want to go on the bus. I write the note, trying to make my handwriting legible but I don't think it worked very well. Oh well, Ace probably knows what I want anyway, and if he doesn't, he knows it's my handwriting so he can just message me and ask what I was trying to say.

My waffles are finally finished so I put syrup and raspberries on them and I go back to my room to eat. It's now 7:05, I'm still in no rush, the bus doesn't come until 7:40, so I'll be fine for a while. I eat my waffles and play games on my phone.

It's 7:35, so I decide to go put my shoes on, grab my bag and walk to my bus stop. My house and bus stop are in really convenient places. My house is right on the corner of an intersection so the bus goes up the side street and comes back down then stops in front of my house, giving me about 8 minutes between when I see it go up and when it comes back down. So I go put my shoes on, brush my teeth, grab my bag and go wait out front of my house. The neighbors kids walk over to the bus stop but make no effort to talk with me.

The bus finally shows up and I get on, sitting in the back. I recognize a boy named Eustass Kid sitting across from me, he and I were friends when we were younger, but we don't talk much now, though I wouldn't say we're on bad terms, just drifted apart over the years. He sees me look at him and gives me a quick smile before returning to staring out the window. I see he has earbuds in so I don't bother talking to him. I just sit silently in my seat until the bus gets to our school, checking up on my cats in Nekoatsume.

We finally get to the school, it's now 8:08. I get off the bus, stumbling a bit because I'm so tired. I walk into the school and make my way to my first class, Mi'kmaq studies. The class is okay, but many of the students are grade 9's and 10's and they really act like it. The teacher is nice, he usually just plays a video and has us answer some questions. The thing I really like about this class though is this boy that I've been friends with for two years now. His name is Trafalgar Law. I've dated many people in the past two years, but I just can't get my mind off him, heck I even have his sweater and I'm wearing it! We aren't together though and I don't even think he's interested in romance, so I just try to keep it friendly with him, but gods do I wish we were more.

8:30. Class has officially begun and Mr. Teacher man, I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention to his name at the start of the semester, he told us it's just going to be a catch up day since it's so close to March break. A catch up day for me and Law basically just means a free class though because Law's always on top of his work and has it all done and I just don't do my work, not in class at least.

Law and I talk for a while, I was telling him about what I'd done the prior day when he wasn't at school due to him being at his co-op course. I didn't do anything particularly interesting while he was gone, but we did have a test in English so I told him about that. He seemed annoyed that he'd missed a test meaning he'll have to do it today. After a little while we both sat in comfortable silence, he gave me a soft smile and I smiled back at him. He then went on his phone and just played some games while I read some good fanfiction on Tumblr.

9:50. The bell rings for second period. Me and Law both have a free so we go to this bench that we both always sit at together. I sit on the right side and he sits on the left. He puts his phone away and asks me to quiz him on the English test as I'd taken it the day before. I start asking him what sub-genres are in the main genres.

"okay, what are the sub-genres in Plays?" I ask after stuttering trying to think of a good question to ask in relation to the english test.

"oh..uh..tragedy anddddd comedy..?" Law responds not sounding completely confident he continues, ' is there a their one..?"

I quickly respond," nope! It's just the two and you go them right!"

We continue this for about 20 minutes before my friend Robin messages me and asks me to go down to the end of the hall because she'd like to give me something. I excuse myself and leave Law with my bag, telling him I'll be back in a few minutes.

I quickly walk to where Robin is, asking what she wants to give me. She tells me she's been learning to crochet and hands me this lopsided from she made. It looks really strange, but it's adorable at the same time. I tell her I love it and give her a hug, she hugs back before saying she has to go before Nami gets mad at her. She leaves with a wave and a quick goodbye, I return her goodbye and head back to Law.

When I return to Law he seems to have given up on studying for now and is just playing Minecraft on his phone. I sit down beside him and he welcomes me back, asking if I want to play Minecraft with him as he knows I have it on my laptop in my bag. I tell him I'd love to play with him and I pull out my laptop. I realize that I don't have a flat surface to put my mouse on so I sit on the floor. Law scoots around a bit on the bench so my head is now between his legs so I can red my head on either of his legs if I so please. I look up at him with a smile, he blushes and tells me not to look at him like that when I'm there. I giggle and start booting up Minecraft. We play together for the rest of our free period.

11:20. The bell for third period rings. It's English, Law will be taking his test, most likely in a different room so I won't be able to sit with him so instead when I get into the English room I sit with Zoro and Sanji.

Our teacher takes everyone that still needs to do the test to a different room and leaves them with the T.A. she returns to her classroom, us all sitting and chatting, Sanji and Zoro both arguing about who they think got the better mark on their test. I don't bother to join in, knowing I either failed or just barely passed.

Our teacher hand back out grades tests. Turns out Sanji and Zoro got the same mark, 88%. Good for them, I'm happy they're doing so well dispite their constant arguing. Unfortunately them getting the same mark prompted more arguing. I don't mind though, I wouldn't be their friend if I did mind.

I check my mark and my already dead looking face gets pale, I passed with a 51, my mark is just barely clinging on, Ace and Sabo are gonna flip out! They're not going to get upset about my poor marks, they'll just get upset that I didn't ask them for help studying or help at all. I was lucky earlier that Sabo was too tired to notice how much of a mess I am, but when Ace picks me up after school he'll get a clear view of it. I don't want to stress them out...not more than they already are.

I ultimately decide to hide my test and pretend it didn't happen.

12:30. It's lunch time. I forgot to make myself a lunch I've been so out of it lately. This is the fourth day in the row I've forgotten...I'm starting to get used to the empty feeling in my stomach, it almost feels good...no no...Luffy...you can't....I can't be thinking these thoughts.....

I decide for lunch I want to be alone, so I just go sit in my next class and wait for lunch to be over, passing the time having a nap at my desk.

1:20. The bell rings for last period. Math class. Normally people don't like math but I actually find it quite easy, so I don't mind it usually. Today though, I just want to lay down and die, I can't take it, I can't take anymore classes, not even a class that I like, it's all just too much.

I keep my head down and cry quietly, I don't budge when the teacher hands me a worksheet. I eventually stop crying, but I just keep my head on my desk, waiting until final bell finally goes and I can go home and sleep.

2:00. There's 30 minutes until the end of the day bell rings. I can't take it anymore, I message ask, asking him to pick me up now. Ace responds quickly, saying he'll be here soon. He knows something's wrong, he normally tells me to be patient. Was Sabo actually awake enough this morning to notice how tired I look?

2:15. Ace finally arrives and he calls the school. I'm called down to the office so they can tell me he's here as if I didn't already know.

I walk out to Ace's car, getting in, completely exhausted.

"bud...oh..what happened..?" Ace isn't normally like this with me, usually opting to call me a cry baby, maybe it's my lack of energy? Am I killing everyone's mood..?

I mumble tiredly, "let's just go home..."

"okay." Ace says softly, driving off and taking me home.

Once we get home I kick my shoes off and leave my bag on the kitchen counter and lock myself in my room before Ace can even say anything. That doesn't stop Ace from going to my room and knocking on the door.

"do you wanna be alone or do you need someone right now?" Ace asks me in a soft tone.

I respond tiredly, "if you can just stay outside my door that'd be nice..."

Ace responds quickly, still in a soft tone, "of course I can do that...if you wanna talk later, don't be afraid to talk to me or Sabo, you'll never be bothering us, okay?"

I shed a few tears, "okay."

I drift off to sleep, finally getting the rest I've needed for weeks. Though that's not all the weighs on me, it's a big help to not be dealing with things while sleep deprived.

[f1luver-95]

Fate Charles Leclerc Story

…Chapter 8…

It has been a couple days since Charles had asked me out and spent the day hanging out with Penelope, Lucy and I.  Charles was busy with training for the upcoming season and I wanted to spend some time with Lucy exploring Monaco and the cities around us. 

But today was the day... The day that Charles and I would be going on our first date.... And to say I was freaking out would be an understatement. 

"Lucy are you sure this is okay?" I asked as I walked out of my closet wearing a black bralet underneath a red deep v-sweater, with black jeans and my black leather jacket.  

"Yes! You look absolutely beautiful... he will not know what hit him." Lucy said as she looked at me from my bed. 

"Are you sure...I just want everything to be perfect." I said as I looked at myself in the mirror. My long brown hair curled into loose waves. 

"Do you think it's not fancy enough? What if he takes me to a fancy restaurant?" I said freaking out as I continued to study myself in the mirror.. was my make up and hair okay?

"Relax Elle! What you're wearing is perfect!" Lucy said as she came up and grabbed my shoulders making me face her. "You are absolutely beautiful inside and out and if he doesn't see that then he doesn't deserve you... you deserve to be treated like a princess" 

"What would I do without you." 

"You would have no friends." Joked Lucy as she smacked my butt and made her way back to sit on my bed. "Now what shoes are you planning on wearing?" 

"I was planning on wearing black ankle high heels." 

"Perfect...those shoes make your butt look amazing." 

"Lucy..." 

"What im just telling the truth... you have an amazing butt." 

I looked up at the clock and noticed that it was almost time to meet up with Charles... shit I was starting to get nervous. 

"You okay Elle?" Asked Lucy as soon as she noticed my face. 

"Im nervous." I replied as I looked at myself again in the mirror. 

"You need a shot of tequila to get rid of some of the nerves." Lucy said as she pulled a bottle of tequila out of her suitcase. 

"Where did you get that?" I questione shocked  as I turned around to face her. 

"The airport... I always need to be prepared, just in case my bestie gets nervous and needs some tequila to loosen her up,"  teased Lucy. 

"I love you ." I said as I grabbed the bottle and took a sip straight from the bottle not bothering to find a shot glass. 

"Love you to0 Elle... Im so proud of you, you are so strong and you deserve every bit of happiness that is coming your way. Just know I will always be your biggest fan cheering you on."  Lucy said as she stood up from the bed and walked over to give me a hug. 

"We should probably wait near the front door," I suggested as I looked at the time, Charles should be here very soon. 

"1..2..3.. Lets Go Bitch." Chanted Lucy as she smacked my butt before walking out my bedroom door ... I laughed at her Taylor Swift reference and followed her out the door, grabbing my purse on the way out. 

Kelly, Max and Penelope were sitting in the living room watching Tv when Lucy and I walked into the room. 

"Wow Elle, you look absolutely beautiful." Kelly said as she paused the show. 

"You look like a princess," Penelope said as she ran and gave me a hug. 

"Ferrari red... really Elle?" Questioned Max as he shook his head in a teasing manner. "You look beautiful Elle... Charles is a lucky guy."

....Knock... Knock.... Knock....

At the sound of the door Max jumped up from his spot on the couch and ran to the door so that he would be the one to answer it. 

"Why hello Charles, " Max said in an intimidating voice as he opened the door reaching out his hand for Charles to shake "I would like her home by 10 o'clock sharp." 

Kelly, Lucy and I couldn't hold in our laughs as Max pretended to be an intimating dad. 

"What?" Questioned Max " Since your father isn't here, I thought I would play the part for him" 

"Yes Sir..." Charles said as he went along with Max's protective dad act, sticking his hand out to shake Max's hand. 

"You look Beautiful Elle." Charles said as handed me a bouquet of red roses. 

"Thank you Charles." I said as I gave him a hug. 

"Ill take the flowers and put them in a vase for you." Kelly said as she reached out to take the roses from my hands. 

"Thanks." I said as I handed her the bouquet. 

"Have fun." Lucy said as she gave both Charles and I a hug.. "Keep my girl safe Charles." 

Charles laughed as he nodded his head, as he placed his hand on my back and guided me out the door towards the elevators. 

"Ferrari Red..." Charles said as we stepped into the elevator and he had a chance to look at my outfit. "Looks amazing on you." 

Blushing I replied, "You look nice as well Charles." 

Charles grabbed my hand as we stepped out of the elevator and exited the building. 

"I know a really good place to eat, that's just down the road." Suggested Charles. 

                                                                                   ....................

The streets were packed with a mixture of both locals and tourists, as we walked further down the street. As we were walking Charles was telling me about his favourite places in Monaco. 

Suddenly, someone riding a bicycle came rushing past me, causing me to jump and fall into Charles. He quickly caught me in his arms and set me back upright whispering in your ear "don't worry I got you. I didn't think it would be this easy to get you to fall for me!"

I could feel my cheeks turn bright red as he said those words. I quickly composed myself and said "I was just testing your reflexes for the next season. Ferrari can't have their star driver having slow reflexes, can they?" 

"I think you just wanted to be in my arms." He answered back sending you a smirk that made his green eyes shine. 

We kept walking down the street until Charles stoped at a small hole in the wall Restaurant. 

"Ooh let's eat here, it's one of my  favourite restaurants. They have the best pizza." Exclaimed Charles as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pull me into the restaurant. You could tell how excited he was based on the way his eyes lit up as soon as he saw the sign. 

An older lady was standing near the front of the door when we walked in immediately her eyes lit up as soon as she saw it was Charles. 

"Charles" she exclaimed as she rushed over to him giving him a big hug. 

" Gigi it's so good to see you... this is my date Elle," Charles said as he pulled away from the hug grinning as he reached out for my hand. I reached out for it and he pulled me close to him. 

"elle est si belle Charles...." Gigi said as she pulled into her arms for a hug. (She is so beautiful Charles) 

"elle est si belle et gentille." Charles replied to Gigi with a big smile on his face. "j'espère qu'elle deviendra ma petite amie un jour." he added while winking at me. Damn... it was times like this where I wish I was fluent in French. (She is so beautiful and kind... I hope she becomes my girlfriend one day)

"Follow me." Gigi said as she pulled a couple menus off the front table "I have the perfect table for you two." 

Gigi lead us towards a table that has a spectacular view of the ocean. On the table there were candles flickering softly. 

"Enjoy Belle." Gigi said as she handed me a menu..  

I looked down at the menu and saw that everything was in French... Great. I think i needed to sign up for some French classes if I was going to be living in Monaco. 

"Do you trust me?" Charles asked as he winked at me, noticing that I could not read the menu at all. 

"Maybe... why?" 

"Let me order for us." He said as he reached over the table to hold my hand. 

"Sure" I said nodding my head, getting lost in his eyes. I couldn't wait to hear him order our food in French. His voice sounds even sexier when he speaks in French. 

"What would you like to drink?" Asked Charles as he stared into my eyes... the way he was looking at me made me

Feel like i was the luckiest women in the world. 

"I was thinking some white wine."  

"I was going to recommend the white wine here... it's the best." Charles said as his thumb gently rubbed my hand that was intertwined with his hand. 

Butterflies once again erupting in my stomach at the simple moment from Charles. 

Gigi brought over a big jug of water for the table, setting it down before pouring each of us a glass of water.

 "Voudriez-vous commander des boissons autres que de l'eau ?" Gigi asked Charles. (would you like to order some drinks other than water?) 

"deux verres de vin blanc s'il vous plaît."  Charles said as he smiled at Gigi. "et pouvons-nous s'il vous plaît avoir une pizza margarita et des pâtes carbonara." (two glasses of white wine please... and can we please have one margarita pizza and one pasta carbonara)

"Merci Gigi," I said as I handed her both mine and Charles menus. 

Gigi gave Charles a wink as she made her way into the kitchen to tell the chef our order. 

"I think you will need to teach me French... especially because I plan on staying here for a while." I said to Charles. 

"I think that's an excellent idea. I'm an excellent teacher." Joked Charles as he reached over again to grab my hand. 

I couldn't help but wonder why he was being so affectionate with me especially in public where anyone could see him... wasn't he embarrassed to be seen with someone like me? Charles was famous and I was an ordinary girl who worked as a nanny. 

"What's going through that beautiful mind of yours?" Questioned Charles as he noticed me starring off into space. 

"Im just thinking about how lucky I am." I replied giving Charles hand a squeeze as I smiled at him. 

"I think I'm the lucky one Elle." Charles said as he looked at me like I was the only girl in the world. 

It scared me how fast I was falling for Charles... Charles took all my insecurities away, he made me feel like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. There was no doubt in my mind that Charles would be an excellent boyfriend... if the time came and he asked me to be his girlfriend.  

Apart of me was terrified to even think about being in a relationship with Charles because he was a famous athlete, that had girls falling all over him. He had plenty of opportunities to cheat while on the road heading to races. Jake cheated on me and he was just a normal guy, Charles had plenty of girls falling over him what would stop him from cheating if he got the opportunity.

I couldn't let me fears stop me from living life... and I couldn't let the actions of one man change my view on all men. 

Seconds later Gigi arrived at our table carrying a bottle of white wine, pouring the wine in our glasses before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

"Cheers... to new adventures" Charles said as he lifted his wine glass up in the air... waiting for me to lift mine up as well. 

"Cheers." 

I took a sip of wine and it tasted amazing... definitely better than the wine back home. 

"How are you enjoying Monaco so far?" Charles asked as he set his wine glass down on the table. 

"I'm loving it so far. It's so beautiful." I said as I looked around the restaurant... taking in the beautiful scenery. 

"Here you go," Gigi said as she brought over a huge margarita pizza and a big bowl of pasta carbonara. 

"How did you know those are both my favourite dishes?" I questioned in awe, that Charles somehow knew my favourite pizza and pasta dish. 

"It was a lucky guess... they are both my favourite as well" Charles said as he started to put some pasta into my plate. 

I took a bite of pasta and i couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my lips as soon as I tasted it. "Oh My God... that is the best pasta carbonara I've ever eaten in my life." 

"Gigi makes the best pasta... all by hand every morning. It's one of the reasons this is my favourite place to eat in Monaco." Charles said before taking a bite of the pizza. 

"How is everything?" Questioned Gigi in a think French accent as she walked by the table. 

"Amazing... Best pasta I have ever eaten." I replied as I smiled at her. 

"Oh Belle. I'm so happy to hear that." Gigi said in a broken English accent as she placed her hand on my shoulder before winking at Charles and walking away. 

"How long have you've been coming here?" I asked Charles. 

"I've been coming here since I was a little boy. It's my families favourite restaurant." Charles said as he smiled... thinking back to all the fond memories he had in the restaurant.

We continued to eat and chat as we enjoyed each others company, Gigi would come over every once in a while to check on us. 

After we were all done eating and Charles paid the bill, Gigi came running towards us with a baggie in her hands "Charles, des biscuits fraîchement sortis du four pour toi. Passe une bonne nuit." (Charles some freshly baked cookies for you. Have a good night. )

"Merci beaucoup Gigi. profitez du reste de votre soirée." Charles said as hugged Gigi goodbye. (Thank you very Gigi. enjoy the rest of your evening)

Charles grabbed my hand as we left the restaurant, big smiles on both our faces. 

                                                                                            .....................

We walked around until we found a bench near the pier and sat down starring out into the ocean, as the sun began to set at the horizon.

"Do you want a cookie?" Offered Charles as he opened the mystery bag that Gigi had given him. "Gigi knows how much I love cookies so she always sends me home with some." 

"Yes please!" I said as I grabbed the cookie that Charles was offering me and taking a bite "mmhm that's delicious." 

Charles smiled at me before taking a bite of his own cookie. Sitting here with Charles felt right... like we were made to be together. All the nerves I felt disappeared as soon as he pulled me close. 

"So why did you become a nanny?" Asked Charles. 

"I have always loved working with children, I have a passion for working and teaching children. Being a nanny has provided me with the opportunity to live in different countries, so it's the best of both worlds."

"You must love your job as well?" I asked as I looked over towards Charles.

"I love the racing part, and the interacting with fans, and being able to accomplish my dream and travel the world while doing it. The business side of it not so much, knowing if I don't preform to the Ferrari standards I could lose my seat at any moment." 

"When does the racing season start for you guys?" 

"Testing starts in about a month. The season starts at the end of February. " 

It's started to get a little chilly as a gust of wind picked up causing you to shiver slightly. Charles noticed and pulled you close to him "So tell me about your family Elle?" 

"I grew up about 25 minutes south of Miami.  I lived with my mother Elizabeth, my father, Matthew, my sister Katie and our  German shepherd Dax. They always encouraged us to find what we are passionate about and to pursue it no matter what. They were very supportive of me moving to England and Australia to accomplish my dreams." I said smiling. 

"What about you?" I added 

"I grew up in Monaco with my mother Pascal, my  father Herves, and my brother Lorenzo and Arthur.  My father passed away in 2017 after battling cancer, I was racing in formula 2 at the time. My dad was always one of my biggest supporters and I hope I am making him proud.  My family has always been very supportive of my dream and has done everything they could to help make it come true." 

We looked out towards the ocean as the sun began to set. Today I had the opportunity to get to know Charles more... I loved his strength and determination after everything he had gone through... He made me laugh, he was charming and kind  everything Jake was not. 

Time seemed to fly as we sat cuddling on the bench as we talked and watched as the waves crashed back and forth against the waves. 

Looking down at the time on my watch I notice that it's getting late, we should head home even though I don't want the night to end. Looking at Charles I say, " we should probably head home." 

We both stand up and Charles pulls me into a long hug whispering "I really want to kiss you right now." 

I giggled as I said, "what's stopping you?"

"Absolutely nothing" he replied as his hand reached up to my face slowly caressing my cheeks as he leaned in slowly to kiss my lips. 

Fireworks went off in my body as I felt his lips press against mine in a slow but passionate kiss. 

"Woah." We both said at the same time as we pulled away, big smiles plastered on our faces. 

"I've been wanting to do that since the first moment I bumped onto you at the airport." Charles says before kissing me again. Time stood still as we stood there kissing. 

"When can I see you next?" asked Charles as he grabbed my hand, not wanting to lose the feeling of holding you close. 

"Maybe some time this week/weekend? I know your busy with getting ready for the new season" I suggested, as we walked back to the apartment building we both lived at. 

"I will always make time for you Elle, no matter how busy I am." Charles said as we arrived  at the lobby of our apartment building. 

                                              .........................

Kelly, Lucy and Max were watching TV in the living room when I walked into the house. 

"Did you have a good date Elle?" Questioned Kelly as she immediately turned off the television so that we could gossip. 

"Hey!" Exclaimed Max "I was watching that." 

"Oh shush, Elle just came back from a date with one of your very good friends. I just want to know how it went."

"It was amazing, he was a perfect gentleman he brought me flowers, opened doors for me, and he made me feel like I was the only women in the world." 

"Oh My God" exclaimed Kelly as she gave me a big hug "I'm so happy for you Elle. You deserve to be treated like a queen." 

"I'm happy for you Elle," Max added smiling at both his new friend Elle and his partner Kelly. "If he hurts you Elle, I'm not afraid to kick his ass."

I couldn't help but smile as I thought about Kelly and Max, and the friendship and support they have given me since the moment I landed in Monaco. They made me feel like family and not just and employee.  It made me realize that the best thing I have ever done was to take a chance and accept this position.

"So where did he take you?" Asked Lucy with the biggest smile on her face.

"He took me to his favourite restaurant, and then we just found a bench near the pier and talked as we watched the sunset." I said as the memories of the night made me smile. 

"Damn that sounds so cute and romantic... Im so happy for you Elle." Lucy said as she got up from the couch and gave me a big hug. 

I looked down at my phone and saw that I already had a message from him. 

Charles: God you looked so beautiful tonight as the sun set behind you. 

Elle: your making me blush... I had fun tonight. 

"You're already smitten with him." 

I couldn't help the blush that took over my face as I thought back to the date with Charles. Maybe I was smitten? 

I looked over at Max and he was just shaking his head and muttered "girls" like we were crazy.  

"Goodnight guys," I said as Lucy and I made my way back to my room.

I fell asleep with the biggest smile on my face... as I thought about my amazing date with Charles.