#it’s because I’m not used to it anymore and i know that

[galene-gothic]

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES TIP JAR

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⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

Trigger warning

Your bare face is gorgeous. I’m not sure why I felt the need to say that but it just came through and I couldn’t ignore it. Your lips are an area of focus in this reading as well. I’m not sure what it is about your lips - it could be that you have naturally pink lips, cupid bow ones or have hyperpigmentation around your lips that make it look like you have a natural lip liner (it’s going to be different for everyone) but no matter what, they’re extremely gorgeous. Maybe because it’s winter in the northern hemisphere, many of you could wear lip balms, petroleum jelly or lip glosses but it gives your lips a wet appearance. If not, you lick and bite your lips a lot, like even if you don’t have any of the attributes mentioned above, the way you move your lips, the way you touch it, lick it, bite it, everything just gives you a different vibe. Now moving beyond your lips because while I could sing praises about them all day, I want the reading to consist of more. Your energy is such that when people see your vices or perceived ‘flaws’, it doesn’t disinterest them but instead only add more dimension to you. It makes you more attractive to them because they experience a certain ‘rawness’ in you that they might not get to experience elsewhere in this world due to how everyone is striving for perfection to the point they all seem manufactured. You’re someone who people stare at when in cafés or public places and I’m so sorry but you have fallen victim to catcalling possibly multiple times especially when you were younger than you are right now. You didn’t deserve that. People find themselves losing a certain level of consciousness when they’re close to you, especially physically. You cause people to feel a heat when around you and even away from you, it depends on the person, sometimes it is a gentle warmth that envelops them, sometimes it is a certain hotness running through their that makes it hard for them to contain themselves around you, to even breathe around you, let alone act normal and sometimes it is in the form of jealousy, people of the same sex or who are interested in increasing their appeal but haven’t been able to find their own spark feel intimidated by your scorching heat that seems to engulf all around it unapologetically. One thing that I need to warn you about is that you definitely have people who are jealous of you. You don’t even seem to notice it but when you’re out, people who are literally taken tend to check you out right in front of them, causing their partner to feel a certain hostility towards you. People stare at you a lot, it is very obvious. It’s come through multiple times. Right now, you’re someone who is just very nonchalant. You don’t hold onto connections too tightly, let alone chase them.

You used to formerly speak with your eyes a lot with certain people, it created a sense of knowing, belonging, connection and familiarity but now you just walk past those same people like you don’t know them or you might greet them, smile at them but you don’t seem to have the same gaze in your eyes anymore, often breaking eye contact quickly or not even caring enough to maintain it, it causes them to feel hurt sometimes, wondering if they never meant anything to you, if you just forgot them, if they were just that forgettable to you but it also makes you irresistibly attractive to them. You’ve developed a certain peace within yourself, there were days when you didn’t know how to live or had forgotten how to do so. You had become very internal, causing you to live within yourself and with it came a lot of overthinking. You used to hold onto grief and people could have underestimated you back then but you have moved far past that. You’ve become more present and mindful, you have started living beyond your mind. You’re starting to smile more, live more and keep your life, treasure it, even if it isn’t perfect, even if it didn’t turn out the way you had imagined. You’ve definitely had a past that was full of tears. It was difficult but you’ve left it all behind, this sense of presence and contentment is adding onto your attractiveness because the sorrow you’ve experienced has also given you a lot of wisdom. One thing that you don’t want to fall into is mourning and desperation because you have experienced both. ‘Extreme nostalgia’ is what I just heard. The sorrow you’ve experienced on your path, the tears that you’ve cried are the very things that are helping you move forward with such confidence and self assuredness. Since you’ve experienced so much, many dark thoughts too, possibly suicidal ones for some of you and have always managed to find a way out, you just feel like things will turn out fine in the end. You have tortured yourself enough in the past, it’s time to live now. That’s how you think and this shift is noticeable because you’re just focused on your own life. Your perception of connections especially romantic ones is that while they’re beautiful, people can burst your bubble so you just want to be discerning enough to only let a certain kind of people into your life like that. You desire to love but it’s not that big of a desire anymore, everyone wants love, to give and receive it, to be desired and desire someone but the way you look at it is “I’ve been there, I’m glad I’m out”, you’re just glad to be over it. It doesn’t even have to be romantic, I’m picking up on major disappointments in connections in general, causing you to prioritise yourself first and foremost.

You’re actually a hopeless romantic, a devotee. When you love, it’s very deep for you, your love is of divine nature. There’s no wandering eyes or anything of that sort, there’s just your person who you hold to be dear, almost divine, your love is devotional, almost like worship. I wonder if there was a point when you were devoted to the platonic or/and romantic connections in your life just for them to end and you were devastated about at least one or a few of them but the fact that you’ve managed to come out of it has given you more power because you know how deep your love runs, you know how you love and what kind of love you give out, and desire for yourself so it gives you the self assuredness that you deserve similar energy. You hold yourself and others to a high standard but if they don’t live up to it, you just abandon them and move forward. It’s nothing malicious but you just don’t see the point in getting caught up in the waiting game, training game or sticking around to entertain less than what you know you deserve. You have a different, slightly detached and elusive vibe to you. Your eyes and words tend to teleport people to a different world, not literally obviously but that’s what it feels like for them. Your energy is not possible to ignore, it bothers those around you because of the elusiveness mixed with the heat that I mentioned earlier but it’s not a bother that they ever want to get rid of. They enjoy the feeling of slight discomfort that comes from your presence. You interact with people very casually, not with everyone obviously but your ease of interacting with others is something that adds to your attractiveness. The vibe that I’m getting from you is that some people are bothered by your heat, others find it warm but both of these parties do not even realise when you started filling their world with nothing but yourself, it just hits them randomly and so strongly. I’m picking up on a romantic vibe from you and your beauty, it seems very gentle despite the heat you radiate. You’re also full of contradictions, despite your heat, you have a romantic appeal but despite the gentleness and elusiveness of it, you really confuse people. Some of you get turned on by fighting, not the excessive toxic kind of fighting but the dramatic yet silly ones that add to the pulse on your vertical lips are very much welcome by you 😭. I keep on hearing ‘what do you mean?’ by Justin Bieber here. “Don’t know if you’re happy or complaining”, “first you wanna go to the left and then turn right, wanna argue all day, make love all night.” You feel like home while simultaneously repulsing people. You’re a complex person full of contradictions and that’s what seems to make you attractive. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

This pile is for you if you have been touching and rubbing yourself a lot recently or just do so a lot generally. You have an intense sexual nature but really innocent eyes. You also crave fairytale love, like the innocent kind of love that doesn’t include touching and rubbing but just an eye contact makes you feel something, just an accidental brushing of skin is enough to make blood rush up to your cheeks, that’s the kind of love you desire and also give out but despite that, your sexual energy slips past your fairly pure and innocent exterior. Despite your love for consuming romantic content, you are not desperate for it. You understand that it’s a luxury to be with you and act like it. You know that people pleasing is self betrayal so you do not go out of your way to please others but at the same time, when they’re around you, you do please them? It just comes naturally to you. Much like the last pile, I’m getting something with the lips but in this pile, either you have plump lips, have a protruding lower lip or just pout a lot. Maybe, it’s just a natural slightly pouty appearance but I’m literally getting flying kisses so I’m not sure. Despite this innocent appearance and your desire for romance, you are very good at leaving people behind. You’ve learned that it’s best not to overstay your welcome anywhere. You’re someone who leaves people and things behind at the required pace, and you do not even seem to care about what anyone might think. You are fine with being lonely, what you’re not fine is getting used and heartbroken by people who might not have your best interests at heart. You have always had this delicate balance between being a friend and a lover. This could have led to misunderstandings in the past, you tend to treat your friends affectionately and generously, and those of the opposite sex or the sex you are interested in romantically might misunderstand, taking it as a free pass to underestimate and disrespect you? It has likely happened at some point in the past, definitely not for all of you but this quality of yours makes you very attractive. Also, when you fall apart from such people, they aren’t even able to voice out how much they miss you because you didn’t have a relationship set in stone and you just act as though you never even met them, as if you don’t know them, never did. In the past, you may have been unable to maintain this delicate balance or might perceive it as such but you are starting to go forward in life with stronger boundaries and that makes you very attractive.

I wouldn’t be surprised if some or in fact, many of you stopped making friends with the opposite sex due to such misunderstandings and disrespect. People from the past miss you, they’re terribly attracted to you and you’re irreplaceable but you’ve clearly grown out of that. If not, this is not your pile. I’m getting a lot of youthful energy here. It’s not just this delicate balance that has made you feel misunderstood in the past but also your friendships with people of the same sex. I’m legit getting friends from school missing you if you’re out of it and away from them (especially if you separated from them connection wise). You do not realise just how hard the nostalgia hits people of the past when it comes to you. People remember you as ‘the one that got away’ honestly and I hate this concept because it’s just sad, and I believe in true love being present, and not getting away but yes, you’re awfully missed. This is funny but people realise that they love or miss you at around 1-3 a.m. in the morning. You have something melancholic and lonely about you but also something so wholesome, and warm at the same time but you also interact with them by rolling eyes, sighing, vacantly staring, calling them dumb and saying something like “who cares?” All of this is dearly missed when you’re gone. You shouldn’t have to get away for people to want you, to appreciate and desire you, to treat you kindly, and with love and respect. You have this thing where you naturally love your friends a lot and don’t hold them inferior to other connections but this has led to you naturally relying on them and also treating them with a lot of love, and priority, and it was not rewarding for you because they used to develop hostility towards you over time for some reason. You’re very attractive to those from the past because they’ll genuinely never find someone like you anywhere. You’re an unconditionally loving person but you also understand that it’s better not to get involved in the lives of messy people. Also, you have a very casual and friendly way of interacting with people when they’re around you, you greet people and treat them as though you’ve known them for years at least for the amount of time that you’re around them even if you’ve just met them. You also have a tendency to be mean and get on people’s nerves but it only makes you more endearing because they get obsessed yet repulsed by you.

There’s something very innocent and pure, almost naive about you but also someone so dirty and mature. The energy here is a bit more contradictory but your contradictions are what seem to make you attractive. People who are used to being in control and are able to read others well find themselves being unable to remain controlled when around you and fail to read you, causing them to be frustrated, intrigued or/and drawn to you. There’s just something different about you that makes others feel like they’re changing, they’re shaking up, it’s not something that they can even put a finger on, it just is. People can’t help but want you around after meeting you, your presence and energy are intoxicating. I wouldn’t be surprised if once you enter a new environment, you see specific people everywhere around you because they just want to be close to you even if it’s from a distance. Many of you here seem to look like puppies or possess that kind of energy. This is the pile where you attract or at least intrigue those slightly older than you. Even people who claimed to ‘not date someone younger than them EVER’ can’t help but be curious about you, be attracted to you. Despite your youthful and puppy like energy, it’s them that feel like a puppies? Like, after meeting you, initially you’re the one acting like a puppy, treating them well and lighting up when you see them but the more the time starts passing by they feel like you’re not taking them seriously, they’re the one following you around everywhere, wanting to prove themselves to you, they do not even understand why they feel so lovesick without you around as if they were a puppy without their owner. Also, another thing is that some people have their youth attached to you and well, they’re still attracted to you even if you’re no longer in touch. Time passes by too fast when you’re around, people find themselves wishing that the hours would go slow so that they could spend more time with you. You’re a piece of warm sunlight of the first spring when it’s not hot yet but just a pleasant weather with a slight amount of coldness that vanishes when you graze their skin. You’re a joy to be around - a dream girl. You’re pleasant because there’s nothing too imposing about you but your energy though gentle and soft in nature is felt strongly, enveloping all that’s around you. People can’t help but want to be a part of your world. There’s also a sense of fragility that I’m picking up on here but it’s something that others feel fortunate to see about you. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

I think that some of you love dancing or just enjoy being young and enjoying life, being present. You’re just so candid, there’s something youthful and timeless about you due to how present you are because you’re someone who actively tries to be present. You do not want to perish with time which is why you try to make every moment count, to have adventures, to try and live your dreams, to leave a legacy. “People will not remember what you wore but they will remember how you made them feel.” You seem to have a solid understanding of this and try to make others feel good about themself and life itself. You’re very busy making the most out of your youth and out of your life but in your presence, you try to make sure that others don’t feel left out, you try to be as inclusive as possible, understanding that they too will only live once. You have an energy that’s everlastingly young about you and your eyes are very attractive, like they’re just captivating regardless of their size, shape and colour. Your eyes give you an appearance of goodness because they look like eyes that would belong to someone good, they’re open, inviting and warm but it seems like more of a disguise once you’re gone because when people run into you or are around you again after a falling out of some sort, your eyes lack that old familiar warmth that once greeted them and they feel an actual ache at the thought that your life continued on without them. You are someone who won’t stop your life for anyone, you want to have fun and spend your life joyfully so when you’re not getting that with certain people or in certain environments, you’re quick to pull yourself and continue on with your life, trying to make it as beautiful and celebratory as possible. Many really extravagant words are coming through for you, I wonder if your energy is a bit dramatic and extravagant too. You are someone who knows how to touch people and gently persuade them but remain distant, causing people to admire you and almost need you. There are times when people think that you’re wasting their time and try to give up on you but something happens that causes them to lose their discernment and heart to you again.

It’s hard to stay composed when you’re around because you just make them feel like little children. I find this endearing, you have a way of making everything very personal. You make memories with people and one thing in particular that stands out to me as attractive is when you call people by their name, it feels personal, it feels sweet. However, most people do not come forth to you beyond yearning for you. You’ve probably had friends confess to you in the past, out of nowhere. You’re very loveable in every sense of the word and people who share closeness to you or once did cannot help but wish for more than that. Many people do not even manage to get as close to you as they’d like to. There’s a lot of fear attached to confessing their feelings for you. The helplessness attached to liking you makes you irresistibly attractive, pretty much obsessively magnetic. Seduction is supposed to be subtle, it’s supposed to be non threatening, that’s what your attractiveness is like. I won’t lie, you do have a very scary attractive appeal too, like people who are attracted to you right away but even so, you win them over more and more over time. When you are around people, the world seems to stop but they don’t even notice it until after a while, they’ll have no clue when it started, when it got so deep. People do have a recognition of a connection with you from the start itself, of course it isn’t like that for everyone and it doesn’t have to be but those who recognise this are still unable to voice it out, however, if you’ve experienced this, you’re probably aware of how they act because their actions and mannerisms likely do give away their feelings. I’m picking up on humiliation, ridicule of looks, etc. You seem to have glowed up, take good care of yourself physically and dress to the best of ability, carrying yourself with your head held high because you remember how you were treated when you weren’t as attractive. This could be something like people close to you leaving you or disrespecting you too, it seems to extend beyond just looks actually, you’ve glowed up mentally and emotionally too. Also, you are forgetting the past, you are trying to, you have grown and don’t want it to hold any power over you at all. You are not in denial or anything, in fact, the kind of ‘forgetting’ seems to be a very healthy one, you’re naturally letting things go without regrets.

You make people feel very young, to share an innocent bond with you, full of memories, they can’t help but yearn for you. It’s your friends and those you share communities with that find you to be the most attractive. Also, you’re someone who literally doesn’t have regrets in terms of connections because you’ve always done your best, you’ve always given your all. You have really strong self respect, it was likely developed with time and experience but those you share memories and past with, if they were struggling, you’d not let them come back in order to search for comfort, support and companionship because you remember how they left. Those who have lost you have especially had to pine for you, the realisation that there’s no one like you is hitting them. Many of these people, even platonic connections seem to have acted like you weren’t all that in the past but now the reality of having lost you is starting to set in. Some of you have nice thick hair or you do something that makes it look full, you could simply just leave it open for example, some of you here use a lot of eye pencil, liner or eyeshadow too probably in brown or black, if not you just have captivating eyes like I said earlier. Your energy brings about a heat that is hard to ignore, it’s usually a strong heat than just a warmth, the type to make people act out of control because they’re not sure how to act around you. It’s like you make them lose control and feel hot, and they regret certain things they say or do but still crave more of it because it’s addictive. The way you move too, gosh, you might not even pay that much attention to it but you’re so attractive like lethally attractive. I keep on getting a theme of you wasting people’s time but it doesn’t even seem to be intentional, you just move on with your life is all. You come off as someone who’s like “if we meet again, we meet, if we don’t, you have my memories to remember me by.” You make everything feel like a movie - a dream - in fact. People get so attached to you, they get so used to you, when you’re not around even the most familiar place starts feeling strange. Some of you could possess dimples or one single dimple. I hope that you enjoyed this reading. Thank you for reading, much love and take care.

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | the daughter of a rival team principal

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : the daughter of a team prinicipal finds love in another team ୨ৎ : requested : yes

୨ৎ : genre : romance ୨ৎ : tws : father-daughter arguing ୨ৎ : word count : 4799 (~685 words each)

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was so fun to write i love it (charles was a personal favorite >.<)

ʚ・max verstappen

you’ve always known what was expected of you. as the daughter of mercedes f1’s team principal, your life has been one of luxury, pressure, and constant public scrutiny. your father’s legacy has always loomed large over you, and you’ve been trained your whole life to uphold it. but tonight, at a charity event during the off-season, something shifts.

you never expected to meet him. max verstappen—red bull’s star driver, known for his dry humor and sharp wit—has always been in the rival camp. you’ve heard about him, but when you finally talk to him, it’s different. his banter is sharp, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your heart race. it’s not the usual flirtation you’ve experienced with other drivers; it’s deeper, more genuine.

a conversation turns into a quiet moment away from the crowd, and before you know it, you’re both caught in an unspoken connection. you try to convince yourself it’s just the heat of the moment, but the chemistry between you two is undeniable. as the night ends, the weight of your family’s rivalry presses on you. you can’t be with him. not him. not a red bull driver.

but the connection is too strong. as the weeks go by, you find yourself texting max in secret, sneaking around after races, and spending stolen hours together. you’re falling for him, and it terrifies you. you’re not just risking your own heart; you’re risking your family, your reputation, and the wrath of the media. but when max looks at you with those eyes—full of intensity and something more—you can’t stop yourself.

the pressure builds with every passing day. your family expects you to uphold mercedes’ honor, and you know your father would never approve. meanwhile, max—who’s used to constant scrutiny—becomes frustrated. he’s tired of hiding, tired of sneaking around, and you start to feel the weight of it all. the secrecy is suffocating, but you’re scared of what will happen if the world finds out.

then, during a crucial race weekend, everything explodes. mercedes and red bull are neck-and-neck, both fighting for the title. after the race, max wins, and mercedes is left picking up the pieces. that night, you and max decide it’s enough. you’re done hiding.

you sit across from your father and max’s team principal, the air thick with tension. your father’s face is a mixture of shock and fury as he demands to know why you would choose max. “he’s from red bull,” he says, as if that’s enough of a reason for you to walk away. max’s principal isn’t much better, questioning how this relationship could possibly work.

but max speaks up. “i’m not just a driver,” he says, his voice calm but unwavering. “i’m with her because i love her. i’m not hiding anymore.”

the room falls into a heavy silence. your father’s eyes narrow, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, but as he looks at you—really looks at you—he sees something he can’t ignore. the sincerity in your eyes, the depth of your feelings for max, is undeniable. this isn’t a passing phase or a rebellious act. it’s real.

“you really love my daughter?” your father’s voice is no longer harsh, but laced with something else—caution, perhaps even a hint of understanding.

max doesn’t hesitate. “i do. i love your daughter.”

your father exhales sharply, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “if you ever break her heart, i swear to god, i’ll make sure your engine never sees the finish line again.”

max, looking both relieved and earnest, nods. “i would never, sir. i’d never hurt her.”

over time, both families begin to soften. the media circus doesn’t go away, but the tension between your families does. slowly, the world starts to accept what you already knew: love doesn’t care about the rivalry between teams. it doesn’t care about the rules.

max wins another race. this time, you’re there, not hiding, not pretending. the cameras flash around you, and you stand by his side, proud. he looks at you with that same intensity, but now, it’s not a secret. your love is out in the open, stronger than ever.

and as you walk off the podium together, hand in hand, you realize that no matter what the future holds, you’ve already won. together.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you’ve always been part of the f1 world, living in the shadow of your father, the red bull team principal. but one night, everything changes when you're forced to attend a press conference with him. you’re trying to stay out of the spotlight, your eyes gliding over the room, until they land on him: lewis hamilton. despite the rivalry between red bull and mercedes, something shifts when your gazes meet—an undeniable connection, one that neither of you can ignore.

after the press conference ends, lewis, ever the charmer, approaches you with that trademark grin. “so, you're the red bull princess, huh?” he says, his voice playful, though there's something deeper in his eyes. you nod, taken aback by the intensity of the moment.

"you don’t look like the type to be stuck behind a desk," he adds with a smirk, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

you laugh, trying to hide how your heart skips a beat. "guess i’m not."

the next few weeks are a blur of stolen glances and quiet exchanges. with every conversation, every private moment, you both feel the connection deepening, though the tension between your families grows. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and the last thing you need is for the media to catch wind of anything. but as the whispers start, you can’t fight the pull between you and lewis any longer.

the secrecy wears on you both. the constant sneaking around, meeting in hidden corners, avoiding the constant press. it’s like living a double life, and eventually, it becomes too much. you feel suffocated by the pressure of hiding your love, and lewis, frustrated and restless, isn’t happy either.

then comes a pivotal race. both red bull and mercedes are facing setbacks, and the competition is fierce. the tension is at an all-time high. after the race, the world is still buzzing with the results, but you can't think about anything else. you need to see him.

as the race concludes, you rush through the paddock, your heart racing. cameras flash all around you, but you don’t care. you spot him—lewis, standing in the pit, grinning like he just won the world. without thinking, you run straight to him. the noise of the world fades as you leap into his arms, and he catches you effortlessly, spinning you around in a burst of joy. it’s a moment of pure freedom—a declaration that you’re done hiding.

the cameras capture everything: your arms around him, your laughter echoing through the chaos. the media goes wild. your father, watching the broadcast from his office, doesn’t know whether to laugh or shout. he stares at the screen, eyes widening in disbelief as you and lewis embrace on live tv.

"what the hell…?" he mutters under his breath. his fists clench, watching his daughter—his little girl—defy everything he’s worked for, the legacy of red bull and its rivalry with mercedes. for a moment, he’s stunned, unsure of what to think.

later, when you sit down with him, you brace for the confrontation. but instead of anger, he looks at you with a quiet understanding in his eyes. “you’re my little girl,” he starts, voice softer than you expect. “i’ve spent my life trying to protect you, to keep you away from this madness. but if this is who you love… then i’ll support you. even if it’s from a rival team.”

you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest. the rivalry still exists, but in that moment, you realize that family comes first. your father’s approval means more than anything, and his acceptance gives you the freedom to live your truth.

ʚ・george russell

it’s a late afternoon at the track, the sun casting long shadows over the paddock as the roar of engines fills the air. you’re standing near your father, the principal of red bull racing, watching the teams prepare for another race. it’s business as usual—except, today, something feels different.

as you glance around, your eyes land on him: george russell. mercedes’ promising young driver, always composed and focused. but today, it’s not the usual competitive edge you notice. instead, you spot a technical issue on his car, a minor glitch in the system that could cost him on track. without thinking, you stride forward, your pulse quickening with a mix of adrenaline and nerves.

“george,” you call, your voice cutting through the air.

he looks up, surprised to see you, but a flicker of recognition crosses his face. “y/n,” he says with a slight grin. “what’s going on?”

you point to his car. “there’s an issue with the engine cooling system. you need to recalibrate the sensors, or it’s going to overheat during the race.”

george raises an eyebrow. “and what would you know about that?”

you shrug, a playful smile on your lips. “i come with my dad to work almost everyday, i'd like to think i’ve picked up a few things.”

he laughs softly, shaking his head. “i guess i’ll trust you then. but i’m not sure if i should be worried about red bull’s tech advice.”

“don’t worry,” you reply, “i won’t sabotage you… too much.”

the banter flows easily between you, and there’s an undeniable chemistry that neither of you can ignore. but as you walk away, your mind starts to race. you’re intrigued by him—his dry wit, his easy smile—but you know better than to get too close. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and you’ve been raised to see them as the enemy, not a potential partner.

over the next few weeks, you and george find yourselves crossing paths more often. each meeting is brief, a stolen moment outside the paddock or in the midst of chaos during a race weekend. you talk about cars, racing strategies, and even your shared interests beyond the track. there’s an easy connection, a bond that grows deeper with every conversation.

the secrecy of your meetings becomes a burden. you’re both constantly looking over your shoulders, afraid of getting caught. the fear of your families finding out and the potential consequences of your secret relationship weigh on you. yet, with every stolen kiss and quiet exchange, your feelings for george only grow stronger. the risk of it all feels worth it when he’s around.

however, the stress of hiding the relationship begins to strain you both. george’s success on the track only adds pressure. every victory for him is a reminder of the ever-present distance between you two. your father’s disapproval weighs heavily on your conscience, and it’s starting to affect your work.

during a pivotal race, both teams face challenges—red bull’s strategy falters, and mercedes struggles with tire issues. you and george exchange secret messages, working together to help each other’s teams without crossing the line.

as both teams fight to salvage their positions, your collaboration becomes more than technical support—it’s a defiant stand against the rivalry. the race ends with both teams barely staying afloat, but you and george share a quiet triumph, knowing you made a difference.

the media catches on, and the truth comes to light. both families are shocked, but as they see the depth of your love, your father’s anger softens. slowly, the walls between red bull and mercedes begin to crumble.

you and george publicly announce your relationship, standing together before the media, no longer hiding. the rivalry may still exist, but your love has bridged the gap, and together, you step into a new chapter where love, not competition, drives you forward.

later, your father calls you and george into his office, a wry smile on his face. after a moment of silence, he looks at you both, then shrugs. “i suppose if you’re really in love, i can’t stop you. just know… i can’t promise i won’t use my daughter to sabotage mercedes from time to time.”

you and george laugh, and your father chuckles, his eyes softening. "but seriously," he adds, "i trust you both. just don’t make me regret it."

with that, the tension breaks, and for the first time, the future of both families feels a little brighter.

ʚ・carlos sainz

the press room was buzzing with the usual chatter—drivers answering questions, team principals looking sharp, and the sound of cameras clicking at every moment. you were there as part of your father’s entourage, the daughter of mclaren’s team principal. you’d been to countless media events, but today, something felt different.

the crowd parted as a familiar face made his way through: carlos sainz, ferrari’s star driver. his warm smile met yours from across the room. you’d seen him race plenty of times, but there was something about his presence that stood out today—something that made your heart beat a little faster.

you’d heard stories of how intense the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari was. it was ingrained in you from a young age, something your father had hammered into your head. he was fierce about his loyalty to mclaren, and he expected nothing less from you. but despite that, the moment your eyes met carlos’s, you felt an undeniable pull.

he smiled at you, as if recognizing that spark too, and before long, the two of you found yourselves chatting during a brief lull in the press event. he was charming, his wit sharp, and his dry humor caught you off guard. you laughed more easily than you expected, feeling the weight of your father’s expectations and the animosity between your teams fade away in the warmth of his presence.

“you know,” carlos said with a grin, “i’ve always thought mclaren had some of the best engineers. too bad we’re always on opposite sides of the fight.”

you smirked. “guess it’s more fun that way, isn’t it? keeps things interesting.”

the chemistry between you was immediate, and in that brief conversation, you realized you wanted more. but you couldn’t—could you? your father would never approve. ferrari and mclaren had been bitter rivals for as long as anyone could remember. still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something real between you and carlos.

over the next few races, you both found ways to keep in touch, meeting up in secret whenever possible. the stolen moments became your escape, a brief reprieve from the weight of being the daughter of mclaren’s team principal and the strain of hiding your growing feelings for a ferrari driver. every touch, every glance was like a silent promise, and with each passing day, it became harder to keep things a secret.

but the pressure was mounting. the media was getting more curious about the subtle tension between you and carlos. you had to be careful. every word, every action had to be carefully measured.

then came the race that changed everything. the tension between mclaren and ferrari reached its peak. your team was struggling—strategy issues, tire troubles, nothing was going according to plan. and then there was carlos, pulling off a brilliant move and clinching the victory for ferrari. the crowd roared, but for you, the noise faded into the background. all you could focus on was the moment he crossed the finish line, knowing you couldn’t stay hidden anymore.

you rushed through the chaos, your heart pounding in your chest. the cameras were everywhere, but you didn’t care. you didn’t think. you just ran. when you reached him, you didn’t hesitate. you jumped into his arms, and in one swift motion, he spun you around, laughing in joy.

the world saw it all. it was a moment of defiance—no longer hiding your love for him, despite everything you’d been taught about team loyalty and rivalry. the media exploded, cameras flashing as they captured the intimate moment. the tension between mclaren and ferrari had never felt more real, and yet, in that moment, it didn’t matter. you were with carlos, and that was all that mattered.

back at the paddock, you could feel your father’s eyes on you from the distance. he hadn’t yet approached, but you knew the storm was coming. when he finally did, his expression was unreadable, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“what the hell is this?” he demanded, his voice low but sharp.

you took a deep breath, walking toward him. “dad, i… i’m in love with him.”

for a moment, the silence stretched between you. then, your father’s gaze softened, just a little. he let out a long sigh, glancing back at carlos, who was now waiting a few feet away, watching the exchange with uncertainty.

“you really love him?” your father asked, his voice unsteady for the first time.

you nodded, meeting his eyes. “i do. it’s not a fling, dad. i promise you.”

he stood there for a long moment, his gaze flicking back and forth between you and carlos. then, in a move that surprised you, he chuckled—a little bitterly, but still, a chuckle.

“well, if you’re serious about this, i guess i can’t stop you,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “but don’t expect me to go easy on ferrari next season.”

you laughed, relief flooding through you. “deal.”

and just like that, the walls that had once seemed insurmountable between your world and carlos’s began to crumble. the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari wouldn’t disappear overnight, but maybe—just maybe—the future of racing didn’t have to be defined by the battles between teams.

as you stood there, hand in hand with carlos, you realized that love had bridged the gap. you weren’t just the daughter of mclaren’s team principal anymore. you were someone who had found something real, despite all the odds. and that was enough.

the road ahead would be challenging, but with carlos by your side, you were ready to face it all—together.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you’d spent your entire life draped in mclaren orange, fiercely loyal to your father’s team. everyone at the paddock knew you—not as just the team principal’s kid but as a sharp-tongued, quick-witted presence who had zero tolerance for nonsense. so, when charles leclerc, ferrari’s golden boy, casually strolled over during a media event and commented on your bold mclaren jacket, you didn’t miss a beat.

“bold choice for you to critique fashion,” you said, raising a brow. “didn’t you wear that same ferrari polo yesterday? or is it just your uniform now?”

charles blinked before breaking into a grin. “it’s called consistency, chérie. something mclaren might want to try with their cars.”

your jaw dropped, but his cheeky smirk made it impossible to stay annoyed. instead, you laughed. “touché, leclerc. but let’s see how consistent you are on track this weekend.”

it started with playful banter, but the more you ran into charles during race weekends, the more intrigued you became. beneath his smooth charm and the ferrari-red facade was a kind, passionate guy with dreams that matched yours. the chemistry was undeniable, and soon, stolen moments between press conferences turned into late-night conversations over text, and quiet dinners away from the spotlight.

every meeting felt like rebellion—not just against your father’s expectations but against the entire cutthroat nature of the sport. you’d grown up in this world of rivalries, but with charles, you started to see it differently. the sport didn’t have to divide people; it could bring them together.

still, you knew what you were risking. your father had built his career on the rivalry with ferrari, and your mother… well, she’d always been the level-headed one in the family.

the turning point came after a thrilling race in monaco. charles took p1 in a breathtaking finish, and as he climbed out of his car, the crowd roared. you stood at the edge of the podium celebrations, your heart racing—not for mclaren, but for him.

as he spotted you in the crowd, you didn’t care who was watching. you pushed past the cameras and ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him in front of everyone. the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

later, when the footage made its inevitable rounds, your father called you into his office. his expression was thunderous, but before he could launch into a tirade, your mother interjected.

“oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “love is love. let her live her life.”

your father looked between you and your mother, his frustration melting into reluctant acceptance. “fine,” he said, sighing heavily. “but if this boy breaks your heart, i’ll have him banned from every paddock on earth. do you hear me?”

“loud and clear,” you said, grinning.

charles became more than just a rival driver; he became your partner. the road wasn’t easy—balancing the pressures of your families, the media, and the sport itself was a challenge—but together, you proved that love could transcend the boundaries of loyalty and rivalry.

in time, even your father warmed up to charles, admitting that maybe ferrari wasn’t entirely the enemy. your relationship became a symbol of change, inspiring others to see beyond the rivalries and focus on what truly mattered.

and as you stood with charles at the end of yet another race, hand in hand, you knew you’d crossed the finish line—not just for love but for a new chapter in both your lives.

ʚ・lando norris

you weren’t supposed to be here—not in the simulator room of a mclaren facility. as the daughter of ferrari’s team principal, you had absolutely no business wandering into enemy territory. but your father had dragged you to yet another pre-season media day, and curiosity (plus boredom) got the better of you.

what you didn’t expect was to find lando norris, slouched in the simulator seat, muttering under his breath as he reset for yet another lap.

“maybe if this sim wasn’t ancient, i wouldn’t be two-tenths off,” he grumbled, smacking the steering wheel in frustration.

you couldn’t help yourself. “ever thought about turning left for a change?”

lando’s head snapped up, startled, before his lips curved into a grin. “great. ferrari’s princess is here to give me driving tips. what’s next? you gonna show me how to do a pit stop?”

“someone has to,” you shot back, stepping into the room. “clearly, mclaren hasn’t figured it out yet.”

his laugh was genuine, softening the edges of his earlier frustration. “careful, or people will think you’re defecting.”

“oh, please,” you said with a smirk. “if i wanted to sabotage ferrari’s reputation, i’d just let you borrow one of our cars.”

what started as playful banter quickly spiraled into something more.

the teasing didn’t stop after that. you’d bump into him at races or media events, and without fail, lando always had something to say.

“so, which ferrari secret are you leaking today?” he’d whisper as you passed him in the paddock.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” you’d reply, raising an eyebrow.

but beneath the sarcasm, there was something else—an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t long before stolen moments turned into late-night chats, and teasing jabs softened into something deeper.

you started meeting in secret, far from the prying eyes of the paddock. sometimes it was at quiet restaurants in cities where races were held, other times it was just sitting on the tailgate of his rental car, talking about everything but racing.

“do you ever get tired of all the rivalry crap?” you asked one night, staring at the stars.

“all the time,” he admitted. “but i’ve got to say, it’s a lot more fun with you around. even if you’re technically the enemy.”

you rolled your eyes. “please. if i were the enemy, you wouldn’t still be here.”

the turning point came after a pivotal race. ferrari had a disastrous weekend—your father’s strategy calls backfired, and both cars finished far outside the points. meanwhile, lando claimed p1, his first win of the season.

you should’ve stayed in the ferrari garage, consoling your team and putting on a brave face. instead, your feet carried you to parc fermé, straight into lando’s arms.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” he teased, grinning as he pulled you into a hug.

“yeah, well, someone has to congratulate you properly,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest.

the cameras were everywhere, catching the moment as lando lifted you off the ground and spun you around. by the time your feet touched the ground, you knew there was no hiding anymore.

when your father saw the footage, his face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was physically possible. “you hugged him. on camera. at parc fermé,” he fumed, pacing the ferrari motorhome.

“yeah, dad, i did,” you said, arms crossed. “and i’m not sorry about it.”

your mother, sitting calmly in the corner, rolled her eyes. “oh, please, let them be. even if it’s… inconvenient.”

your father stopped pacing, glaring at her before turning to you. “fine. but if he breaks your heart, i swear i’ll sabotage his car myself.”

when you relayed the conversation to lando later, he laughed, pulling you close. “your dad’s terrifying, you know.”

“yeah, but he loves me,” you said with a grin. “and he’ll come around. eventually.”

lando kissed your forehead, his voice soft. “good, because i’m not going anywhere.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

the first time you met oscar piastri, it wasn’t under the most glamorous circumstances. as ferrari’s golden child, your father had sent you to oversee a joint project with mclaren, which was code for "keep an eye on the competition."

you were mid-yawn at the coffee machine in mclaren's hospitality area, waiting for the machine to finally churn out your much-needed cappuccino, when a voice interrupted you.

“some of us actually have work to do, you know.”

you turned, glaring at the culprit—none other than oscar piastri, standing there with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“well, some of us need caffeine to tolerate said work,” you shot back, not budging.

he smirked. “right, because ferrari's success clearly hinges on how long you hog the coffee machine.”

“it’s only fair since mclaren’s been stealing all the glory lately,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

his laugh was low and unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “touché. but seriously, i need my coffee.”

you rolled your eyes but stepped aside, gesturing dramatically. “be my guest, glory-stealer.”

what started as sharp-witted banter evolved into something… else. the project forced you into countless meetings, strategy sessions, and shared moments of quiet in the paddock.

late nights at the track turned into debates about racing philosophies—he’d argue for precision, and you’d counter with passion. more than once, you’d find yourself splitting snacks when the paddock catering failed you both.

“you’re really committed to this whole ‘traitor’ thing, aren’t you?” he teased one evening, munching on a shared bag of chips.

“it’s called strategic sabotage,” you deadpanned, stealing another chip. “someone has to keep mclaren humble.”

he grinned, leaning a little closer. “you’re terrible at hiding your motives, you know.”

“and you’re terrible at hiding how much you love this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you.

he didn’t deny it.

after a grueling race weekend, where mclaren edged out ferrari in the standings, you found yourself in the paddock sulking with a bottle of water.

oscar appeared out of nowhere, slipping a folded piece of paper into your hand.

“don’t open it now,” he murmured before walking off, his usual nonchalant demeanor intact.

curious, you waited until you were alone to unfold it.

"we make a good team."

the words were simple, scribbled in his messy handwriting, but they hit you harder than you expected.

your flushed face must’ve been a dead giveaway because your father cornered you that evening.

“do you want to explain why you look like a lovesick teenager?” he asked, arms crossed.

you froze, trying to come up with a convincing lie, but he sighed before you could. “it’s piastri, isn’t it? of all the drivers—him?”

“it’s not—” you stopped yourself. lying wouldn’t work. “okay, yes, it’s him. and he makes me happy, dad.”

your father stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. finally, he muttered, “fine. but if he so much as breathes in the wrong direction, i'll send a hit out for him.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding you.

when you saw oscar later that night, you couldn’t resist telling him about your father’s “conditions.”

oscar grinned as he wrapped an arm around you. “i think i can live with that.”

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[goose-books]

The Ghost of Christmas Past shows up and you’re like, “Ohhhhh for fuck’s sake,” but you’re in your childhood bedroom so it’s kind of on you. The ghost seems offended. She crosses her arms. She looks like you used to, with the pigtails.

“No way,” you say. “Don’t start.”

“I am the—”

“The Ghost of Christmas Past, I know, I know.” Because she looks like you, and it’s Christmas Eve, so what else. Your parents used to read you the story every year. Even when you were old enough to read on your own, it was better in your dad’s voice.

“You came home for your parents,” the ghost says, solemn. “It’s time to tell them.”

“No, like, ‘when you’re ready’?”

“You are ready,” she says, “or you wouldn’t have come back.”

Which is so stupid, because you weren’t on the moon, you were at college, and it’s only been two months of shots, you don’t even have a mustache. “Fucking leave me alone,” you say, so she does the ghost thing and takes you to a ten-years-ago Christmas. The living room. Your parents. Your fledgling self on the carpet with your stocking, the one you can’t look at anymore because when you were a baby your parents patiently hand-stitched the fucking name.

“Maybe they’ll make you a new one,” says the ghost.

“You don’t know that.” Bullshit ghost powers.

“You were happier back then. When they knew you.”

“Everyone was happier back then. It was, like, 2008.”

“There was a recession,” says the ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up!” You turn over in bed. For a second you expect to roll onto child-self-you curled up next to you. Probably crush the life out of her. You got good at that. It’s her bed, her room, pink covers, cat posters.

“This is so stupid, this Dickens thing,” you say. “I’m not even Christian anymore.”

“Tell your parents that second,” the ghost suggests.

“Oh my fucking God I’m not telling them anything can’t you go bother Jeff Bezos.”

“I’m just doing my job,” says the ghost, and vanishes.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Present has an acne problem. As soon as you open your eyes you say, “Oh my God,” and they say, “Hi,” and you say, “You better not be the fucking Ghost of Christmas Present,” and the Ghost of Christmas Present says, “I am.”

Which you knew.

“Why me?” you say, pink comforter bunched around your waist. “I didn’t do anything. Scrooge was mean to orphans.”

The Ghost of Christmas Present shrugs. “It’s the job.”

“Are you gonna show me my parents now?”

That makes them look kind of embarrassed.

“Well, don’t,” you say. If your parents are talking in the other room, huddled up conferencing with the lights off, you can’t hear it over the heater buzz. But you can guess what they’re saying: you went to school with a shitty pixie cut and worse eyeliner, and you came back with a real haircut and a permanent frown and a bunch of new friends you play sentence Twister to avoid pronouning. “I know they’re nice people, I got it. I’m just not ready.”

“It’s just—you’re kind of waiting for them to ask?” says the Ghost of Christmas Present. They scratch their face, where they have spectral sideburns coming in. “Your dad thinks you have a head cold. ‘Cause of your voice. But your mom’s starting to get it.”

You pull the covers over your head. “Cool, awesome, didn’t ask.”

“She isn’t going to ask,” the ghost says. “She wants you to tell her.”

You stick your middle finger out from underneath the covers. When you check, the room is empty again.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. You look back. You probably have bedhead. You fixed your daytime wardrobe but your pajamas are still lacy and purple.

“How come you’re a man?” you say.

He says, “I think you know.”

“Fucking—go away.”

“I have something to show you first.”

“Are we going to the goddamn graveyard?”

He doesn’t say anything but then you’re in the goddamn graveyard. Together. Looking at your headstone. The dates are close enough together to make you kind of sick.

“They went with the full name,” you say.

The ghost nods.

“Not even the nickname. My nice gender neutral nickname.”

The ghost shrugs. You kind of want to throw something at him but you’re just looking at it now. Chiseled in marble. Immovable. What’s that thing bigots on the internet say, about someone digging up your jawbone two hundred years from now? You always wanted to think you wouldn’t care.

The Ghost of Christmas Future’s pretty quiet. This is the part where Scrooge goes full breakdown. Tears, begging, promises.

“I’m not gonna cry on you,” you say.

“Okay.”

So neutral. “Man, what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” says the ghost. “I think you’re there.”

You can’t stop looking at the headstone. “God fucking damnit shit. You promise they’ll be cool?”

“Nothing’s promised,” the ghost says. He gestures at the graveyard. “Except for this.”

“Awesome.” Cryptic cliche philosophical ghost bullshit. Yada yada. Death and taxes. Not with that name on your headstone, though. Not with that name on your tax forms, either.

You turn to tell him that and then you’re blinking in bed. There’s still one glow-in-the-dark star stuck to your ceiling where the glue never wore out. You put those up like ten years ago. Maybe longer. The light in the room says it’s morning. You swing your lacy-pajama legs over the side of the bed and go to ruin Christmas.

[yournewfriendshouse]

they literally never forgot. cis women and assigned women have been bullied and harassed for all of these things for a fucking age. probably several ages. they’re just doing the same thing but with technology to really dig in to their fucking weird ideas of femininity.

I was called a boy and man my whole damn life by so many people because I have several of these things going on. now I’m popping the start of a beard and moustache, and I’m like ‘yeah maybe I’m not a woman, isn’t that fun’

…and it’s always like is this just me letting the haters win? can’t even have gender euphoria or whatever because I’ve been given so much trouble over not being a proper girl or woman for my entire fucking existence that I’m like what if…

this is why I find certain conversations around trans misogyny to be strange, because you can bet your arse that the same people who make womanhood hell for cis women are the ones making womanhood hell for trans women. with trans women they just feel like they have an excuse to not even try to be subtle or quiet anymore

this isn’t saying that there aren’t unique tortures people come up with to make being a trans women absolute hell, but there is a lot of crossover, which you know, is why it’s called trans misogyny and not something else.

doctors and nurses giving trans women a very dehumanising time are also making diagnosis and treatment incredibly difficult and dehumanising for cis women. they’re just using different excuses. we’re stronger together. it’s not that our experiences exactly align, it’s that we often have exactly the same enemy.

It’s wild to me to see transvestigator conspiracy theories online that could be so easily explained by natural human variation. That woman has a deep voice? Yeah, sometimes they do. A woman has broad shoulders?? Maybe she plays rugby or hits the gym a fuckton. There’s a “bulge” in her tight pants?? Maybe her vulva is just fat. All the “markers” of trans woman that transvestigators use to harass any woman aren’t even things unique to trans women.

[marsmaximoff]

🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁｡☽

content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.

word count: 0.7k

author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3

emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone

we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood

you ALWAYS go to the games

he demands wants you there with him

(not like you have much choice being married to him)

but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)

and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.

i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.

both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward

regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.

some would even say not only of the marriage itself…

caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him

god forbid someone doesn’t get it

Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.

squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder

loves using your braids as little ladders

and snuggling against your neck too

he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3

anyways

and 2) sappy child

he follows you around like a puppy

you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself

you end up acting like his mother

gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you

needs a lot of reassurance

the guards always look for you when he has an outburst

your touch and presence are the only things that ground him

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling

clings to you like he needs you to breathe

good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀

play with his hair and he’s GONE

big on pet names

to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”

emphasis on the “my”

everything’s fine with him but “sweet boy” makes him melt

and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful

and compliments too

spoils and pampers the shit out of you

jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it

absolutely whipped

loves kissing

now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞

sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you

and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could

he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you

🚩 🚩🚩

being married to a sick man is hard

many palace servants and guards feel bad for you

paranoid

thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often

obsessive

if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation

possessive and extremely jealous

cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?

he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you

hates other people touching you

gets violent

has hurt you before during one of his fits

regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing

would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲

over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse

and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves

but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨

[wonderjanga]

I May be a Kid but I’m not a Kid Kid.

When Billy’s secret identity was revealed, he started getting treated like a little kid. It really annoys him whenever these guys try to baby him.

Supes: “Billy, uhm… we were wondering if you would like to be moved to the Teen Titans.”

Marvel: “What…?” *sounds absolutely horrified at the thought of that* “Why?”

Supes: “You’d around kids your age.”

Marvel: *stares and blinks rapidly* “Are you saying you’re gonna demote me to the Teen Titans of all things? No offense.”

Supes: “Billy, it’s not a demotion.”

Marvel: “But it is. I’ve been on this team for what? Four years- almost five. You guys are acting like my age automatically means I can’t be a good hero anymore.”

Supes: “We’re not saying that. We just think it’d be good if you were on a team of heroes around your age.”

Marvel: “But you are. You’re literally all but saying it. I like those kids but not enough to want to be on a team with them.” *doesn’t know if he’d like listening to Robin’s condescension in more than small doses* “I prefer you guys. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Supes: “Of course!” *happy Billy is still somewhat comfortable around them*

Marvel: “Good.” *smiles* “Besides, I do hang out with kids around my age. Mary and I are the same age while Junior’s a year older than us.”

Supes: “He’s the oldest?”

This conversation got them to back off about kicking him off the team. That didn’t stop them from poking their stupid adult noses into other parts of Billy’s heroics though.

Marvel: *helping someone at like 2am because he patrols as much as he can*

Supes: “Captain! Whatcha doing up this late, champ?”

Marvel: *makes a face that being called champ, but doesn’t say anything about it* “Uh… patrolling? *finishes helping the person*

Supes: “Patrolling? It’s a little late- er early for that. Isn’t it?”

Marvel: “I guess…? I still have a couple more hours.”

Supes: “Shouldn’t you be turning in earlier?”

Marvel: “No…?”

Supes: “Aren’t you tired though? Kids need plenty of sleep.”

Marvel: *a little irked at being called a kid but brushes it off* “Stamina of Atlas, remember?”

Supes: “Oh.” *silence* “Well, maybe you could still turn in earlier?”

Marvel: *looks around for any hidden cameras* “No.”

Supes: “Oh okay…” *doesn’t really want to seem controlling so he just sulks while flying back to Metropolis*

Don’t worry, Superman trying to give him a curfew isn’t the only thing a nosy adult tried to do.

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir? Are the new long term mission signs up sheets out yet?”

Batman: “Ah, yes.” *hands him the sign up tablet* “There are three new ones.”

Marvel: “Great! Any potential overlaps?”

Batman: “Only these two.” *points to two missions*

Marvel: “How long would these two last?” *points to one of the overlapping missions and the one that doesn’t overlap*

Batman: “Together would be about a month and a half or longer.”

Marvel: “Cool.” *is about to sign up for them*

Batman: *remembers school exists* “And school?”

Marvel: *pauses so he can look at Bruce confused* “What about it?”

Batman: “If you sign up for these, you’ll miss at least a month or two. You’d be stuck catching up.”

Marvel: *laughs* “You say that if I actually go to school.”

Batman: “You don’t?”

Marvel: “No.”

Batman: “I see.” *takes the tablet away before Billy can sign* “Well, you’ll go now then.”

Marvel: *thinks he’s joking* “What?”

Batman: “I’ll enroll you in a school in Fawcett.”

Marvel: *stares for a solid minute* “Mr. Batman Sir, you’re not sending me to school.”

Batman: “Yes, I am. William-”

Marvel: “Don’t call me that.”

Batman: *sighs* “Billy, education is important. You shouldn’t put it off for heroics. Even Robin goes to school.”

Marvel: “Okay? I’m not a Robin though. And that only works because you guys patrol at night. If I go to school I’ll miss my day-patrol.”

Batman: “I’m sure there are plenty of other heroes in Fawcett who patrol during the day. Why not leave it to one of them?”

Marvel: “Because I don’t want to. I like saving people. The more heroes who are out in Fawcett, the less likely somebody might get glossed over and hurt because a hero wasn’t there in time to save them. I don’t wanna be the person that failed them just because I was busy with school or because I went to bed early… I say that last part because no matter what Supes thinks, he’s not subtle about wanting me to have a darn curfew.”

Batman: *stares in silence because he now feels a little bad and also empathizes with that “what if I’m not there mentality*

Marvel: *thinks that silence is Bruce still not understanding him* “Look, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say, imagine if someone came into Gotham and tried pushing you out of the superhero business just because they thought you unfit to be hero. That’s how I feel in this situation. I don’t tell you guys how to your jobs, so why are you trying to tell me?” *reaches over to grab the tablet a sign up for the two missions he wanted to take*

Yeah… Batman started treating him normally after that. Supes also did because his superhearing caught the convo.

Then, there’s his relationship with Flash and GL. They’d taken to treating him like a little kid or nephew even though Billy doesn’t want that.

Marvel: “Could you guys uh- stop treating me like a kid?” *sounds disappointed them*

Flash: *somehow still feels dread at the disappointment even though, NO, this guy is younger than him, why does Barry still feel like he disappointed his dad?* “You are a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t used to do this before.”

GL: *also dislikes that he’s bothered by the Dad Disappointment™️ radiating off of Marvel* “That was before we knew you were a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well I don’t care. I don’t need you to act like this. I don’t want you to act like this. I want friends, not chaperones or parental figures or anything stupid like that. I don’t like that you’re treating me differently now.” *sounds bitter* “You guys seem to forget that I’ve been doing this since before most of you were even, excuse my language, sperm cells. And sure, there was suspendium, but I fought Nazis, commies, and my own villains on top of that, all without being treated like a defenseless little kid and I ended up just fine. So I don’t need any of you acting like I’m a stupid little baby.”

That shut them up. It didn’t make any of the relationships between Billy and them go back to normal though. Not completely anyways. At least it was somewhat better though.

By the way, Billy, throughout all of this, just sounds bitter about being treated like this. He misses his friends guys :(.

[sierrale8ne]

christmas eve aubrey griffin, ayanna patterson, paige bueckers 🎄

sfw // kissing, sexual innuendos, cute christmas fluff

kalena speakss 🪽! i recommend having this song on loop while reading, it really works wonders on the heart strings 🥹 merry (early) christmas eve and happy holidays to all my amazing followers and moots.

🏷️ @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @ohbueckers @rosemariiaa @bucketbueckers @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy

ayanna and kelli’s christmas eve 🎞️

“Lay your head on me, I got you baby.” justin bieber 2011

“I can’t believe you made me put these on.” Ayanna groans, walking down the stairwell of my parents home in plaid pajama pants and a red, ugly, Christmas sweater with gingerbread men on it.

She looks adorable, her skin glowing from the light of the fireplace and the television.

“I didn’t make you do anything. You have free will.” I shrug from my place on the couch. White fuzzy socks cover my feet as I tuck my legs up on the couch. It’s barely even chilly, but the holiday spirit makes me pile on all the layers.

“Kel, this shit is ugly.”

“You wanna take it off?” I comment, looking over at her suggestively.

“In your parent’s house? Nah, I’ll be aight.” Yanna looks at me astonished, pulling on the tight coil that falls over her forehead. She huffs, sitting next to me on the couch.

“That’s what I thought.” I reply, pressing play on the movie in front of us.

It’s Are We There Yet, which I refuse to accept as a Christmas movie, but since Yanna sucked it up and put on the matching outfit, I guess I can be a good girlfriend and watch her poor choice of a movie.

She pulls on the lever that makes the seat recline, giving me all the space to get comfortable in the space between us as we cuddle.

“I missed you so damn much, pretty. You don’t even know”

I’m taken aback by her sudden show of affection, but it makes me smile. And that pretty word nearly makes my cheek turn as read as the sweaters.

“Me too.” I nod, looking away from Nia Long on the screen and up at my girlfriend. “The team was getting too comfortable with my baby. Needed you to come back.”

Yanna laughs in between kissing my forehead. “I thought I was getting replaced by med school exams.” She says back.

I really didn’t realize just how much we’d been busy. UConn and Harvard weren’t too far away, the distance could’ve been worse. But from chasing a national championship and trying to become a doctor, her and I just had so much going on.

It’s really a Christmas miracle that I get her all to myself for a few days.

“Y’sure I can’t give you my gift tonight?” Yanna asks me. I laugh, pausing the movie that obviously neither one of us was paying attention to anymore.

“Girl, no!” I exclaimed.

“Please! I’ll give you another tomorrow.” She attempts to negotiate. I want to say no, knowing that if my mom were to hear that I’ve changed her very serious Christmas plans, she’d probably kill me.

But it’s Ayanna, and she looks so convincing with that pretty and perfect smile that I just can’t say no.

Which is exactly how I find myself with my legs crossed, giggling as she hands me the medium sized Tiffany & Co box. It isn’t wrapped, which lets me know she was planning on giving it to me when we were alone rather than when our families were around.

“NIL money getting you right?”

Yanna grins at me as she shrugs. Trying to look nonchalant about it, but I know her better than that.

“Something like that.”

I untied the white ribbon on the box, revealing the gold Tiffany Hardware Wrap Necklace that I had saved in my phone for months.

“Were you in my search history?” I ask, incredulously, looking at her astonished. “It’s beautiful.” I pout, tears rimming my cheeks from the gesture.

"I needed some inspiration for your gift because you always say you have everything you need and not what you want," Yanna explains, cutely rubbing the back of her neck.

"I do have everything I need and want," I smile. I put the lid back on the box, holding it close to my chest as I lean into her.

My arm wraps around her neck, inhaling the scent of her body wash. Her lips press to my clothed shoulder, hugging me back like any second I could evaporate into thin air.

"I have you," I mumble almost inaudibly, but knowing her she obviously hears me. I hear a small laugh escaping her lips, breathless nearly.

“You got me, baby.” She confirms, kissing that spot on my shoulder again. “Always.”

aubrey and shayne’s christmas eve 🍪

“You leave some cookies out I’ma eat ‘em all.” justin bieber 2011

“Stop it!” Shayne exclaims, swatting Aubrey’s hand away from the recently decorated sugar cookie she just placed down.

It was the couple’s second christmas together, and this time Shayne insisted that they had to decorate cookies on Christmas eve.

Making them was messy, flour and sugar all over the kitchen counter. Then as soon as they were out of the oven, Aubrey went out of her way to reach for a piping hot cookie, just to end up burning her finger and crying like a baby.

“I just wanna see your work!” Aubrey explains, pushing the girl off to the side by her hip. She looks at the cookie, a snowman with a big top hat, and she snickers. “Why are his eyes melting?”

Shayne rolls her eyes at the loud laugh that escapes her girlfriend. “Then you make one! Here.” She says, placing a similar cookie on a plate.

The two hum along to the christmas tune playing on the TV, sugar and cinnamon and vanilla shifts through the air, along with the occasional poking fun of each other’s cookies.

“See, mine looks good.” Aubrey says lifting her gingerbread man up towards her face.

Shayne pulls a face, and every bone in her body is telling her to tell the girl how ugly her cookie looks or something of that nature. But she was right, it actually looked cute.

“It does, baby. Hol’ on let me get a picture of it.” She digs in the pocket of her christmas tree pajamas for her phone. It took all of five seconds for Aubrey to take a giant bite of the head of the gingerbread man. “Are you serious?”

“It was too tempting.” Aubrey explains, crumbs fall from her mouth and green frosting decorates her lip.

“You could wait two more seconds?” Shayne laughs, snapping a photo of the girl’s off-guard face with her decapitated gingerbread man.

She shakes her head back and forth, the curls on her head moving with. “Shouldn’t have left me alone with these cookies.” Aubrey shrugs, eating the rest of it.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Shayne drops the bag of colored frosting on the counter taking a step closer to her girlfriend. Aubrey had this glimmer in her brown eyes that made her knees knock. Tracing the slope of her nose with her eyes and the sharp line of Aubrey’s jaw.

Shayne’s hand meets Aubrey’s cheek before nudging the corner of her lip with her thumb. “You have frosting on you, dummy.” She sucks the bright green frosting off of her finger, before mushing Aubrey’s face to the side.

“Wait, wait.” Aubrey urged. Her hand reaching for her girlfriend’s wrist and pulling her back.

She slides her hand behind her neck and pulls Shayne into a kiss. Lips softly meshing together as her mouth sucks at Shayne’s bottom lip. They hum as they pull apart, frosting from Aubrey’s mouth staining their lips.

“I like spending Christmas with you, Shay.” Aubrey admits, kissing the girl’s temple.

The admission makes Shayne smile like a school girl and she snakes her arms around Aubrey’s waist, the material of her button up pjs riding up just barely.

“Same time next year?”

“Absolutely.” Aubrey nods eagerly, dipping her head to plant kisses across Shayne’s jaw. “Y’know what else I think?”

“What?” She sighs, slowly getting distracted by the feeling of her lips.

“You should let me eat another cookie before we go to bed. Know what I mean?”

Shayne snickers at the insinuation, pushing her hands to the athletes chest. “And this is when I walk away from you.”

“Shay, c’mon!”

paige and jolene’s christmas eve 🎄

“Kissing underneath the tree. I don’t need no presents girl, you’re everything I need.” justin bieber 2011

“Ma, c’mere!” I call out, stand in front of Jo and I’s tree with my hands on my hips. The pines were decorated in white lights and gold ornaments, Jolene put on some candy canes on it too.

She trudged into the room, her thick socks softly padding against the ground with each step she takes. She wears a plaid onesie, her recently straightened hair tumbling down her shoulders.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to show you sum.” I reach my hand out for her and she takes it, stepping over the stack of our presents and over to me.

Confusion covers her face, I can assume she’s regretting leaving me alone in the living room with our tree. “Should I be nervous?” Jo laughs, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You know I don’t do surprises.”

“I know.” I nod. She hates surprises, mostly stemming from her hatred for being left out of the loop. “It’s not anything major, I just want to get all sappy and shit.”

She smiles that addicting smile of hers that makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire. I almost forget how long we’ve really been together when she looks at me like that, because every time it feels like I just met her when It’s really been years.

She drops our hands, instead wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning on my shoulder. “Show me.”

I reach behind the tree, looking for and spotting the sphere shaped ornament. It’s clear, a collage of images of the two of us filling the space.

Jolene lets out a gasp as she looks at it, and I remind myself to tap myself on the back for my unofficial gift to her.

“I’ve spent every Christmas with you since we were in eighth grade.” I say, letting the ornament spin on my finger for her to see every image. “It’s crazy, ‘cause we grown as hell now.”

She laughs, “yeah, super senior.”

“Chill out. I’m getting sentimental.”

“You’re right, my fault.”

I point a a random picture before looking at it. “This was my first Christmas in D.C. You flew all the way out there to see me, and I remember telling my dad that I thought our Christmas streak would be broken and then you showed up.”

“I’ll always show up.” She murmurs, following my finger with her eyes.

“Then there’s last year in Minnesota. When we got snowed in, but I swore I wasn’t gonna go without spending my day with you.” The memory flashes in my head of how hard she laughed when she opened her front door and saw my body completely engulfed in snow.

“You walked two and a half blocks for me.” She reminisces along with me before taking it into her own hands.

“I guess what I wanna say is that, I can’t imagine not spending the holidays with you, Jo. This ornament represents all the Christmases of the past, and I wanna keep doing it ‘til I’m fucking 90.”

“And what happens at 91?” She asks. Jolene takes it upon herself to hang it up on the perfect spot, conveniently right where there was a gap between the other ornaments.

“I might be able to go a few more years after that.” I shrug. “You’re my gift every year. Ion need shit else as long as I have you. You’re everything I need every single year.” I admit.

Her smile illuminates in the lighting of the Christmas tree and she cups my cheeks, pulling me down to her height and kissing me without any more words. There didn’t really need to be anymore words, everything that was left unsaid was understood.

It’s so damn tender, soft and sweet like I’ve never felt before. Even after nine years of being able to call her my girlfriend. She licks at my bottom lip, parting them before slipping it into my mouth.

“‘M gonna marry you one day.” She mumbles into my mouth, and I nod, gripping her hips in an attempt to keep us both from falling into the tree.

I pull back, but not before placing another slow peck to her lips. “I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too, 5. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mama.”

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART SEVEN ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 6.8k

A/N: Here's a cute little fun fluffy chapter for the holiday's, I couldn't do any angsty with Christmas spirit around 😭. Please let me know what you think and if you have any ideas of where you'd like to see things go. I'm not sure how much longer it'll be because I don't know if I have anymore routes to explore for them in this one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

New Years Eve 

It was currently New Year’s Eve, and Azzi sat at the vanity in Caroline’s room applying her makeup. The soft glow of the mirror lights highlighted her steady hand as she blended the edges of her liner with ease. Behind her, Caroline shuffled around, pulling clothes from her closet as she got dressed.

The tension in the room was a little thick, but it definitely wasn’t from Azzi’s end and she barely acknowledged it. Caroline had brought this up before, and Azzi wasn’t particularly interested in having the same conversation again.

"You know," Caroline started, her tone slightly sharp, "this whole thing with you and Paige is starting to get... noticeable."

Azzi hummed noncommittally, her focus fixed on the mirror as she added a final touch of mascara. "Noticed that, did you?" she said lightly, not bothering to turn around.

Caroline huffed, pulling a shirt over her head. "I’m serious, Azzi. Since your date, you two have been practically inseparable, and yet—" She waved her hand vaguely. "Still no label. So what…you guys are just friends with benefits now?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head without pausing her work. "No, Car," she said easily, "we’re not."

"Then what are you?" Caroline pressed, her tone sharper than before.

Azzi’s hand stilled briefly as she traced the edge of her eyeliner, then resumed as she answered smoothly, "We’re us."

Caroline groaned, turning to lean against the edge of the vanity. "That’s not a title, Azzi. It’s not enough."

Azzi paused, her hand hovering mid-air as she paused applying her makeup. She turned slightly to glance at Caroline, her lips a faint smirk. "And that bothers you…why exactly?" she asked, her tone light but with an unmistakable edge.

Caroline rolled her eyes, undeterred. "I just don’t want you settling for something undefined because it feels good right now," she said, her tone more frustrated than before. "I know Paige. She’s not committing because she can’t. That’s just how she is."

Azzi’s jaw tightened, the irritation finally breaking through her calm demeanor at Caroline mentioning Paige. "Well, good thing I know Paige better than you do, Caroline," she shot back, her voice low but firm.

Caroline straightened, a spark of frustration flaring in her expression. "Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s just dragging you along while she figures herself out."

Azzi set her brush down with a little more force than necessary, her patience clearly wearing thin. "She’s not dragging me along," she said matter of factly. "You’ve brought this up like, what? Three times now? I keep telling you we’re fine and that I’m more than fine."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Are you? Because I remember the first time you argued, she immediately started sleeping around to 'cope.' That didn’t exactly scream 'fine Azzi.'"

Azzi turned to face Caroline fully, her voice cooler now. "You know that was different. We were in a different situation then and you trying to throw it in my face is fucked up."

"How?" Caroline challenged, stepping closer. "What makes it different now?"

Azzi let out a short, exasperated breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the vanity. "Because we hadn’t discussed anything. We didn’t know where the other one stood and we do now. 

Caroline’s expression softened for a moment.  Azzi," she said, stepping closer, "you still deserve better than just sleeping around."

Azzi’s smile faltered, her grip tightening slightly on the makeup brush in her hand, exhaling as she turned fully to face Caroline. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice sharp now. "Caroline, do you even have any idea what Paige does for me? I’ll answer that for you actually. No, you don’t. So please stop."

Caroline opened her mouth to reply, but Azzi didn’t give her the chance. "She’s so much better than everyone thinks and it kind of sucks that you’re our teammate and don’t see it. She checks in on me constantly, even when she’s buried with her own pressure and stress. She’s Paige fucking Bueckers but she treats me like I’m the biggest star on earth. She looks at me like I put the stars in the sky. She makes sure I eat, that I take care of myself, that I don’t push myself too hard because she knows how I get. She surprises me with stupid little things she knows will make me smile even if it makes no sense to her. She knows exactly how to calm me down when I’m spiraling, she got me this damn necklace when we weren’t even speaking Caroline." Azzi’s voice softened slightly, but her conviction remained. “She’s so thoughtful and present. She treats me like I matter to her more than anything."

Azzi continues, shaking her head at the acquisition of deserving ‘better.’ "A title doesn’t affect how she treats me, Car. I promise you, I wouldn’t be with someone who only wanted me for sex if that’s what you're thinking."

Caroline hesitated, but Azzi wasn’t finished. She leaned back against the vanity, crossing her arms with a smile as she settled down. "It just so happens that it’s amazing," she said, her voice dropping into a teasing tone hoping this will end Caroline’s inquiry, "so we do it…often."

Caroline groaned, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath as she turned away to grab her shoes. "That’s not the point," she grumbled.

Azzi let out a short laugh, returning her attention to the mirror. "You’re right," she said lightly, "it’s not. Because the point is, we’re fine. More than fine."

"But you’re still not official," Caroline pressed, her voice edging toward frustration again.

Azzi shrugged, her tone cool. "A title really doesn’t change anything so please just drop it. It’ll happen naturally.” 

Caroline sighed, her expression shifting to one of genuine concern. "I just don’t want you to get hurt, Azzi," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed now.

Azzi finished applying her lip gloss, capping the tube before standing and turning to face Caroline. "And I thank you for that, Car," she said, her voice calm but firm. "But really—we’re great. So please, stop worrying about it."

Caroline gave her a long, searching look before finally nodding, though her concern hadn’t entirely dissipated. "Just don’t say I didn’t warn you," she murmured as she stood to finish getting dressed.

Azzi rolled her eyes slightly, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. "Duly noted," she said dryly as she moved toward the door.

Caroline watched her go, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Just at least think about what I said, Azzi it’s important to have clear expectations," she called after her.

Azzi didn’t respond, instead stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. She walked toward the common area, where Paige was lounging on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. As Azzi approached, a goofy smile immediately spread across Paige’s face, her eyes lighting up.

Paige sat up straighter, her gaze sweeping over Azzi from head to toe. She licked her lips, standing as Azzi drew closer. "You look amazing," Paige said, her voice low and sincere.

Azzi smiled, her dimples showing, leaning in to give Paige a quick kiss. As she pulled back, she adjusted Paige’s collar playfully, smoothing it down. "Have I ever told you how much I love you in all black?"

Paige smirked, her eyes twinkling. "Yeah a few times," she teased.

For a moment, they simply stood there, soft smiles on their faces as they gazed at each other. The quiet moment between them felt private as the rest of the world faded away.

Paige eventually tilted her head toward the door Azzi had just come from. "You two good?" she asked, her voice casual but laced with curiosity. "You looked a little upset coming out."

Azzi glanced back briefly, then shrugged as she turned her attention back to Paige. "Yeah, we’ll be fine. She’s just being Caroline."

Paige hummed softly, her brows knitting together for a moment, but she didn’t press further knowing Azzi would’ve told her if she wanted her to know. Instead, she stepped aside, gesturing for Azzi to sit with her as she sat back down. Azzi flopped onto the couch, stretching out and draping her legs across Paige’s lap. Paige instinctively rested her hand on Azzi’s knee, her thumb brushing lightly over the fabric as they waited for the others to finish getting ready.

The quiet murmur of their conversation was soon interrupted by the loud arrival of Ice, KK, and Aubrey, who burst into the suite with their usual energy.

KK and Ice immediately broke into exaggerated cheers, clapping their hands and whooping loudly. "Look at ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’ holding it down on the couch!" KK teased, grinning as she made her way over.

Ice joined in, pointing dramatically at Paige and Azzi. "Such a cute family moment! We love to see it!"

Paige groaned, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amused smile. "You two are the worst," she said as Ice plopped down on one side of her and KK wedged herself onto the other, forcing Azzi’s legs off Paige’s lap in the process.

Azzi huffed in protest, crossing her arms as she scooted to the edge of the couch. "Do you mind?" she asked, her tone half-serious, though the corner of her mouth twitched with a smile.

"Nope, not at all!" KK said cheerfully, leaning back and putting her feet up on the coffee table.

"So," KK continued, glancing around the room, "who are we waiting on?"

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Caroline stepped out of her room, adjusting her earrings. "I’m ready," she announced, her tone brisk as she glanced at the group.

"Finally," Ice quipped, standing up and stretching dramatically. "I was starting to think we’d never leave."

Caroline shot her a look but didn’t respond, instead grabbing her jacket and heading toward the door.

The group followed, making their way downstairs to where the rest of the team was already gathered. The energy was lively, with everyone chatting and laughing as they debated who would ride in which car.

…

By the time the team arrived at Ted’s, the place was already alive with the buzz of other UConn students. Laughter and music spilled out of the bar onto the sidewalk, and the energy was contagious. Inside, the familiar space was packed, but the team’s usual table in the corner remained empty—most likely thanks to the bartender, who always seemed to have them in mind.

As they walked in, the group naturally began to disperse. Ice, Aubrey, Ines, and Ashlynn peeled off first, making a beeline toward a group of familiar faces by the jukebox. KK, Caroline, and Aaliyah veered toward the table, where they could set up shop and claim their space. While everyone else including Paige and Azzi wove through the crowd toward the bar. 

“You drinking?” Paige asked, glancing at Azzi who nodded.

“Definitely,” Azzi said. “I need something to get through another night of Ice’s awful karaoke if it happens.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s happening. She’s been hyping herself up for it all day. I heard her warming up in the bathroom this morning.” 

As they reached the bar, Paige leaned casually against the counter, immediately going into a story about something random that had happened at practice earlier in the week with her group. Azzi chuckled, listening with a fond smile as Paige animatedly recounted every detail, as if Azzi wasn’t there. 

“I’m just saying, who even thinks to do a behind-the-back pass in a half-court drill? It’s wild, right?” Paige said, her voice rising slightly over the noise of the bar.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Barely!” Paige shot back, gesturing emphatically. “KK almost lost it in the bleachers. But you should’ve seen her face—she acted like she just pulled off the play of the year.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds about right for KK.”

As Paige continued, her voice full of excitement, Azzi found herself leaning closer, her eyes fixed on Paige’s face. It wasn’t the story that captivated her—it was the way Paige told it, her energy so infectious that it made Azzi forget the rest of the room entirely.

“...and then Geno was just standing there, looking at her like, ‘You done?’” Paige finished, snorting as she imitated his deadpan expression.

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as the bartender approached. She ordered their drinks quickly, her attention still on Paige.

“You know,” Azzi said once the bartender moved off to make their drinks, “you have a way of making even the most random stuff sound important.”

Paige grinned, leaning against the bar. “That’s because it is important. You just don’t appreciate the art of storytelling.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smile softening. “Right. That’s totally it.”

Before Paige could respond, their drinks were placed in front of them. Azzi handed Paige hers, brushing her fingers against Paige’s briefly.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her grin never fading. “And for the record, I know you appreciate it. You just won’t admit it.”

Azzi smirked, picking up her drink. “Maybe I do,” she said, her tone teasing. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Paige just laughed, taking a sip of her drink as they turned to head back toward their table. 

…

The team had been at Ted’s for about an hour waiting for midnight, passing the time with a round of god-awful karaoke, just as Azzi had dreaded. Laughter filled the bar as they cheered for each other, the air filled with the light buzz of alcohol and their natural competitive energy. Ice was up next unfortunately.

Azzi, Paige, and the rest of the team were seated around the long table, some with drinks in hand, others snacking on appetizers. The table was alive with conversation, laughter, and the occasional groan as another off-key rendition of “I Will Survive” from Ice echoed across the bar.

“Okay, this is torture,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes playfully as Ice launched into her second verse.

“I think she actually sounds worse than she did this morning in the shower if that’s possible” Paige joked. 

Azzi smirked and turned her attention back to the room, her eyes scanning the crowd for anything that might interest her—or at least distract her from the chaos of karaoke. But as her gaze wandered, it landed on someone she hadn’t expected to see: the girl who always seemed to make an appearance at the most inconvenient times. What the hell even was her name? 

Her jaw tightened slightly, the easygoing smirk fading for a fraction of a second.

Paige, always attuned to Azzi’s shifts, noticed immediately. She followed Azzi’s eyeline and spotted the girl across the room who currently seemed blissfully unaware of them, laughing with a group of friends at the bar. Still, Paige recognized the subtle shift in Azzi’s posture, 

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice low enough to be lost in the noise of the bar but perfectly clear to Azzi. She lightly touched Azzi’s wrist, bringing her focus back. “You good?”

Azzi blinked, her features relaxing as she looked back at Paige. “Yeah,” she said, her voice calm but not entirely convincing. “I’m fine. Just… caught off guard, that’s all.”

Paige studied her for a moment, her lips pressing together in thought. Then, with a quiet confidence, she set her drink down on the table and reached out, gently pulling Azzi towards her by her waist.

“Don’t worry about her,” Paige said, her voice laced with reassurance. She positioned Azzi between her legs as she sat on the barstool, her hands resting lightly on Azzi’s hips. “You got better things to focus on pretty girl.”

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at Paige’s effortless way of grounding her. “Like you?” she teased, her smirk returning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a grin. “Obviously.”

Meanwhile while the two of them were in their own little world, the rest of the team was caught up in their own chaos. Aubrey was yanking the karaoke mic from Ice, asking the group, "Who's next?"

"Well, I vote for Paige," Ice said with a mischievous grin. "You were judging me way too much this morning—your turn!"

Everyone erupted into playful cheers, and even though Paige groaned and shook her head, Azzi could see the challenge in her eyes. Paige was never going to back down from Ice, the two of them probably the most competitive on the team.

“Yeah, come on, P boogers, show us your moves!” KK shouted, her voice carrying through the room.

Paige shot Azzi a look. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it. But only because I can’t let Ice win.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back in her chair as Paige stood up, finishing off her Dirty Shirley in one smooth motion before confidently striding toward the stage area. The rest of the team burst into cheers, egging her on with shouts of encouragement. “Let’s go, Paige!” Ice hollered, clapping her hands.

As Paige grabbed the mic, her grin widened, the thrill of the moment already lighting up her face. She glanced back at the table, her teammates watching eagerly, and locked eyes with Azzi, who was sitting comfortably, her brow raised in amusement. Paige’s gaze lingered on her for just a beat before she turned to the karaoke screen and scrolled through the selections.

“Oh no,” Ice said with a laugh, leaning toward Azzi. “She’s scheming. You can see it.”

Paige finally settled on her song and stepped back, the opening beats of I Invented Sex by Trey Songz featuring Drake blasting through the speakers. A collective groan and cheer erupted from her teammates. “She’s not serious,” KK laughed, shaking her head.

“Hey girl, hey girl, hey girl… This goes out to the beautiful girls,” she sang, her voice smooth and sultry. The bar erupted in cheers, her teammates the loudest of them all.

“Which one of y’all goin’ home with Trigga?” Paige teased, pointing to a group of strangers near the bar. They whooped, leaning into the attention, but Paige’s smirk showed she was just warming up.

Her energy was infectious as she worked the room. She stepped off the stage, weaving between tables, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Paige locked onto Nika first, throwing an arm around her neck as she sang, “Bottles of the Ace got me with a lil’ buzz… You leaned over and said you want me.”

Nika burst out laughing, raising her hair off her neck and fanning herself dramatically as Paige winked and moved on.

Next, Paige made her way to Aubrey, leaning in close as she sang, “Girl, can we take it upstairs… My bed’s waitin’ there.” Aubrey’s jaw dropped as the rest of the team howled with laughter.

But Paige wasn’t done yet. She circled back to Ice, tapping her shoulder to the beat of the song. “You know I live a magnum lifestyle,” Paige sang, flashing her trademark grin. Ice tossed her head back, raising her drink in mock surrender.

Paige’s playful teasing reached Aaliyah and KK, both getting their own share of her attention as she danced between them, her moves deliberately over the top. The bar ate it up, cheering louder with every step she took.

But when Paige turned to Azzi, her energy shifted.

Her teasing smile softened into something more deliberate, her steps slow and purposeful as she approached. Paige’s voice dipped lower, her eyes locking on Azzi with a bit more intensity.

“Girl, when I pull back them sheets… And you climb on top of me,” Paige sang, standing in front of Azzi now.

Azzi tried to hold her ground, smirking up at Paige with her arms crossed, but her resolve cracked when Paige reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her to her feet.

The crowd roared as Paige sang directly to Azzi, her free hand lightly brushing Azzi’s jaw. “You gon’ think I invented sex,” Paige crooned, her voice dripping with intention and playfulness.

Azzi’s smirk faltered, a deep blush creeping up her neck. Paige wasn’t letting her off the hook, though. As the music swelled, Paige spun around, standing behind Azzi now, her hand lightly resting on Azzi’s hips. She leaned in close, her voice soft in Azzi’s ear.

“It’s a celebration clap, clap, bravo…” Paige sang, her words carrying just enough heat to send Azzi’s blush into overdrive.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head, but her flushed cheeks gave her away. 

By the time the song ended, the whole bar was on its feet, clapping and cheering. Paige bowed with exaggerated flair before walking back to the table, her eyes still locked on Azzi.

"Wow, I'm impressed," Azzi said, her tone amused as she sipped her drink.

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” Paige replied, sitting down beside her. The two of them quickly fell into their usual rhythm of playful banter, Azzi teasing Paige about her exaggerated performance and Paige pretending to be offended as the rest of the team chimed in with their own commentary.

The table was buzzing with laughter and conversation when the same girl from earlier—the one Azzi had clocked near the bar—made her move. She approached confidently, a drink in hand and a smile that suggested she had more than casual conversation in mind.

Paige spotted her from the corner of her eye, her instinct telling her to ignore the interruption. But then she glanced at Azzi, who gave the subtlest tilt of her head, signaling she had it covered. Paige leaned back in her seat, her posture relaxed as she let Azzi take the lead.

The girl stopped in front of Paige, setting the drink down on the table with an audible clink. “I couldn’t help but enjoy your performance tonight,” she said with a coy smile, her eyes lingering on Paige. “Thought you deserved a little something for the effort.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi reached for the drink, her movements deliberate as she plucked it off the table and took a slow sip through the straw. Her gaze never left the girl, her smirk growing as she set the glass back down. “Thanks,” Azzi said casually, leaning back in her chair.

The girl blinked, clearly thrown. “Uh, that was for Paige,” she said, her tone faltering.

Azzi glanced at Paige through her lashes, her voice dropping into a playful purr. “Baby,” she said, her tone laced with teasing affection, “do you mind?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a small smirk. She licked her lips slowly, her eyes locking with Azzi’s. “Of course not,” she murmured, her voice low and easy.

Azzi’s smirk deepened as her fingers brushed Paige’s neck, her attention returning to the girl, who was now visibly unsettled. The girl shifted her weight, attempting to regain her footing.

“You know,” the girl started, her tone taking on an edge at Azzi’s constant presence, “I’m surprised Paige has stuck with one person for so long. That’s not exactly her reputation.” Her eyes flicked to Azzi, testing for a reaction like last time.

But she didn't get one, Azzi just chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Reputation?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “You mean that phase when she was keeping herself entertained when I wasn’t here yet?” Her gaze flicked to Paige for a moment, her smirk sharpening. “Everyone experiments in college, right, baby?”

Paige, leaning back and watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement, nodded slightly. “Something like that,” she murmured, letting Azzi steer the conversation.

The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, sensing Azzi wasn’t fazed. She straightened up, doubling down. “I wouldn’t call it a phase. Some of us,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “leave a lasting impression.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Ahh yes, I remember you now,” she said, snapping her fingers as if the memory had just clicked. “You were the one that threw yourself at Paige at a basketball party on campus right? I think she’s told me this story. You kinda just invited yourself to her room. Didn’t she ghost you after though? I remember you asking about it when we were on the way to dinner.” Her tone was light, teasing, but her words landed with precision.

The girl’s face reddened slightly, but she forced a smile. “Maybe,” she said, her voice tight, “but we had fun. She couldn’t keep her hands off me that night.”

Azzi’s grin only grew as she tapped Paige lightly on the shoulder, interrupting her conversation she started with Nika. Paige turned, her brows lifting slightly in question. “What’s up Az?”

Azzi gestured toward the girl with a casual tilt of her head, her amusement clear. “Do you remember her name?” she asked, her tone sweet but undeniably teasing.

Paige frowned slightly, genuinely trying to recall. Her gaze flicked toward Jade for a moment, her lips pressing together in thought. “Um...” She hesitated, searching her memory. “Jessica? Jasmine? No, wait... Jade?” She glanced at Azzi for confirmation, her expression apologetic as she didn’t know what was going on.

Paige’s lips curled into a sheepish smile. “Yeah, sorry,” she admitted, leaning back against her chair. “I used to get things mixed up a little.” She shrugged lightly, her tone casual but not unkind, as if this was just another awkward interaction to brush past like she used to.

The girl blinked, her confidence visibly cracking. “It’s Jade,” she muttered, her tone defensive.

Azzi chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how effortlessly Paige had diffused the moment. She leaned in closer, her fingers trailing lightly down Paige’s arm before stopping to give her hand a gentle squeeze. Azzi’s voice dropped, just loud enough for Paige to hear. “Go on, don't let me keep you from your chat with Nika.”

Paige’s lips quirked in a subtle smile as she glanced at Azzi. “Oh wow, thanks for the permission,” she teased lightly, her tone playful.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled with humor as she looked back at Jade. “So…now that we have that figured out Jade.” She leaned back, casually resting her hand on Paige’s thigh. “It was nice of you to stop by. I always love a good chat with one of Paige’s old friends.”

Jade looked between them, clearly unsure how to proceed. Paige, finally chiming in as Azzi’s fingers squeezed her thigh, glanced at Azzi. “You having fun, huh?” she asked, her tone warm and teasing.

Azzi grinned, brushing her lips against Paige’s temple. “Always, baby.” She turned her gaze back to Jade. “Thank you for the drink,” Azzi added with a dismissive smile.

Jade hesitated for a moment longer before stepping back. “Well… maybe I’ll see you around,” she said, her tone hollow as she directed a few last words at Paige.

“Maybe,” Azzi replied smoothly, her attention already shifting back to Paige as Jade walked away.

Paige watched her go before breaking into a soft laugh, shaking her head as she leaned into Azzi’s space. “You really are a little crazy,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Azzi’s lips curved into a slow, confident smile as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you like when I do that,” she said, her tone low and teasing. “You like seeing me put girls in their place.”

Paige bit her lip, her cheeks warming as she let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean,” she started, leaning closer so only Azzi could hear, her voice dropping. “I can’t disagree. It’s definitely sexy.”

Azzi’s grin widened, satisfaction evident in her expression. She leaned in just enough to brush her nose against Paige’s cheek before whispering, “Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping.”

Paige shook her head with a smile, her gaze lingering on Azzi before finally settling back into their conversation with the team. 

…

The final moments of the year started to tick away and the energy in the room was electric. The entire team had moved into the crowd, drawn by the anticipation of the New Year's Eve countdown. Laughter and excitement filled the air as everyone squeezed in together, ready to welcome the new year. Paige and Azzi, of course, were right next to each other, their fingers intertwined and their hands resting comfortably against each other’s bodies. The closeness between them felt natural, effortless, as if the countdown itself was a part of the rhythm they'd already established together.

The countdown began, the voices of friends and strangers alike filling the bar as everyone joined in. “Ten! Nine! Eight…” The cheers grew louder with each passing second, but Paige’s focus was entirely on Azzi. The way the dim lights glinted off her hair, the way Azzi’s eyes shone when they met Paige’s, everything about her pulled Paige in deeper.

“Three! Two! One!” The room erupted in cheers, the sound of laughter and shouts filling the air as fireworks erupted outside. But for Paige and Azzi, time seemed to slow as the world around them disappeared. Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s neck, her fingers lightly tracing the skin as she pulled her in close. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s hips, drawing her in, as the two of them shared a long, slow kiss.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity, neither of them willing to let go. The taste of Azzi lingered on Paige’s lips as their bodies pressed closer, as though the kiss itself was a promise—one they had already made and couldn’t break.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Paige’s heart pounded in her chest. She blinked rapidly as her hand found Azzi’s cheek, still feeling the heat from their kiss. And before she could stop herself, the words slipped out—soft, breathless, and entirely unintentional.

“God, I love you.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Paige froze, her eyes wide in shock. Her stomach dropped in a mix of panic and realization, as if she’d just said something irreversible. She felt the air in her lungs stutter, unsure whether she should take the words back or let them linger. Her chest tightened with nervousness, the sound of the countdown still echoing in her mind as she waited for Azzi’s response.

But when Paige met Azzi’s gaze, the look on her face was pure awe, like the words she’d just said were the most precious thing she’d ever heard. Azzi’s lips parted slightly, her eyes softening, drinking in every second of the moment.

Azzi didn’t say anything right away. She simply stared at Paige, almost as if she were taking in the weight of those words, letting them settle into the space between them. But Paige, still reeling from her own confession, began to pull away, her nerves getting the better of her. She couldn’t believe she’d said it—couldn’t believe she’d just admitted it out loud. She fucked everything up.

But before she could pull too far back, Azzi’s hands found her again, one gently cupping her face, the other sliding around her back. “Don’t run,” Azzi whispered softly. “You don’t have to run from me Paige.”

Paige met Azzi’s gaze, her heart hammering in her chest, her voice caught in her throat. She tried to breathe deeply, to steady herself, but Azzi’s words were like a soft balm to her panic.

“Be my girlfriend,” Azzi said, her voice steady but full of warmth and tenderness. “Please. So I can tell you every day how much I love you.”

Paige blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. She wasn’t sure how to respond, her thoughts swirling, but Azzi’s eyes were filled with sincerity, and there was no question in the way Azzi was looking at her—only the desire to make her feel safe, loved, and wanted.

“Huh?” Paige managed to say, her voice soft, surprised, and a little nervous. She hadn’t expected this—not like this, not yet.

Azzi laughed gently, her laughter soothing Paige’s nerves. “I said,” she repeated, her voice dripping with affection. “Be my girlfriend. I want to be with you. I want to love you. Let me do that.”

And that was it. In that moment, everything else fell away. There was no more hesitation. No more fear. Paige’s heart swelled, her mind quieting, and she smiled, finally, with a soft, relieved laugh. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but clear as day. “I will.”

Azzi’s smile stretched across her face as she pulled Paige back in, kissing her again. This time, it was softer, gentler, but no less full of emotion. Their kiss lingered, the pressure of it tender as if they were committing the moment to memory, holding it close for the future. When they finally pulled apart, neither of them wanted to speak, but both knew that everything was different now.

Paige, her heart still racing, looked into Azzi’s eyes and whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She nodded with a soft smile, her fingers lacing effortlessly with Paige’s as she let her lead the way. Together, they wove through the crowd, their hands tightly clasped. Paige caught Nika’s eye from across the room and gave her a small nod, signaling that they were leaving. Nika smirked knowingly, nodding her approval as Paige and Azzi slipped out the door.

The crisp night air hit them as they stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the warmth and noise of the bar. The snow-dusted streets sparkled under the streetlights, and the faint hum of the city surrounded them. Paige’s hand stayed firmly in Azzi’s, her thumb brushing lightly over Azzi’s knuckles here and there, an unspoken gesture of reassurance.

They walked in companionable silence, the warmth of their drinks still lingering in their systems, though it was quickly overshadowed by the buzz of simply being together. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional car passing by or laughter echoing faintly from another nearby bar.

As they strolled, they passed a brightly lit Dairy Queen. Azzi’s steps faltered slightly, her gaze lingering on the building. Paige noticed immediately, a small laugh escaping her lips.

“You want ice cream, don’t you?” Paige asked, her voice filled with playful amusement.

Azzi tried to feign innocence, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Who says I want ice cream?” she teased, a smile tugging at her lips.

Paige shook her head, already tugging Azzi toward the entrance. “You don’t have to say it, Fudd. I know you too well.”

The bell above the door jingled softly as they stepped inside, greeted by the warmth of the shop and the sweet smell of waffle cones. Azzi’s eyes lit up as she scanned the menu, her focus shifting to the options in front of her. Paige leaned against the counter, her gaze fixed on Azzi with a fond smile.

“What’re you thinking?” Paige asked, her voice soft, almost teasing.

Azzi didn’t look away from the menu. “Chocolate fudge brownie,” she said with mock seriousness, as if it were a life-changing decision.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Solid choice. I’ll get mint chocolate chip, but fair warning—I’m stealing some of yours.”

Azzi shot her a playful glare. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are, my girlfriend now” Paige countered, smirking.

Once they had their ice cream, they continued their walk through the quiet streets. The faint crunch of snow underfoot accompanied the occasional bump of their shoulders as they strolled side by side, their breaths visible in the cold air. Paige glanced at Azzi, her lips quirking into a small smile.

“You’re the only person I know who’d want ice cream when there’s snow on the ground,” Paige said, her tone teasing.

Azzi turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re literally eating ice cream right now.”

Paige laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Yeah, because if I didn’t, you would’ve refused to get any.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi argued, though her expression betrayed her.

Paige gave her a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Both of us know better.”

Azzi shook her head, a chuckle slipping from her lips as they fell into a comfortable silence. The streets were deserted, the only sounds coming from their footsteps and the faint hum of the city in the distance. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, adding to the quiet beauty of the night.

For a moment, Paige just enjoyed the simplicity of being with Azzi, the warmth of her presence cutting through the chill in the air. But as they continued walking, her thoughts began to spill out.

Paige began, her voice softer now, “I really love you, you know I meant it when I said that right?”

Azzi glanced over at her, a small, dimpled smile breaking across her face as she took another bite of her ice cream. “I do know that,” she said warmly.

Paige’s cheeks reddened slightly, but she pressed on, her words tumbling out like a confession she couldn’t hold onto anymore. “I just..I want you to know that I want this…I want us to be more than just something we look back on from college Az. I want a future with you. I was daydreaming about you walking down the aisle the other day, and I thought I was insane. She paused, glancing at Azzi, who was watching her intently as she talked. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore. You’re it for me.”

Azzi slowed her pace, turning to look fully at Paige. Her expression was filled with awe, her eyes shining under the soft glow of the streetlights. “Paige–” she began, her voice full of emotion, “I want a future with you too…I want nothing more than to come home to you everyday for the rest of my life.” 

Paige blinked, her heart swelling as Azzi continued.

“I’ll admit, it scared the hell out of me at first,” Azzi said, her voice quieter now. “We’ve only known each other for half a year and I would do anything for you. It feels like I’ve known you my whole life. Like…a part of me was waiting for you, and I’m discovering so much about myself the more I get to know you.”

Paige’s steps faltered slightly as she processed Azzi’s words, her chest tightening in the best way. She stopped, turning fully toward Azzi and searching her eyes for any hint of doubt—but all she saw was warmth and certainty.

“You mean that?” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle hush of the falling snow.

Azzi nodded, her dimples deepening as she gave Paige a soft smile. “Every word,” she said.

Paige’s breath hitched, and she reached out, her fingers brushing Azzi’s cheek. “You make me feel like I can do anything, like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”

Azzi leaned into Paige’s touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “That’s because you are,” she replied.. “And if I have anything to say about it, you always will be.”

Paige’s lips quirked into a small smile as she stepped closer, the space between them vanishing. “How did I get so lucky?” she asked, her thumb gently tracing along Azzi’s cheekbone.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled as she tilted her head, closing the remaining distance between them. “I think we both got lucky,” she murmured before pressing her lips to Paige’s in a kiss that was soft. 

The world around them seemed to fade as they melted into each other, the warmth of the kiss cutting through the cold air. Paige’s free hand settled on Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, while Azzi’s fingers threaded through Paige’s hair, anchoring her in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths visible in the chill of the night.

“I used to think I didn’t have time for this. That I didn’t want anything like this,” Paige admitted, her voice low.

Azzi smiled, her hand sliding down to rest on Paige’s shoulders. “And now?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Paige let out a quiet laugh, her heart feeling impossibly full. “Now I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine it.”

They stood there for a moment longer, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow continuing to fall around them. The quiet streets felt like their own little world, one where nothing existed but the love they shared.

Finally, Paige broke the silence with a playful grin. “Come on, we’re going to freeze out here.”

Azzi laughed, her dimples reappearing as she reluctantly stepped back. “Okay, but only because I don’t want you blaming me if you catch a cold. You’re a nightmare when you’re sick.”

Paige laced her fingers with Azzi’s, her grip firm and reassuring as they resumed their walk. Their shoulders bumped again, but this time it was intentional, a silent exchange of affection that needed no words.

[winterstelltales]

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then. 

 The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you. 

 You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath. 

 His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared. 

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

 You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders. 

 Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection. 

 You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap. 

 “What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

 But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more. 

 You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s. 

 “It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

 “Sorry,” you said softly.

 The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

 “Is something bothering you?”

 You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. 

 “No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

 Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them. 

 He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit. 

 You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth. 

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air. 

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him. 

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

 “You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

 “Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you. 

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him. 

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke. 

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one

I'm backkk 👀 Reminder that y'all do NOT like each other (for now 🤭)

I did a lot of math to make sure I had my timeline in order but I won't bore y'all with all the numbers. Some basics, tho: we're somewhere in s5/6, Foyet doesn't exist here but Haley and Hotch are divorced and Jack lives with Haley, Reader is in her mid 30s and Hotch is in his mid 40s. That's all for now, happy reading! xxx

Chapter warnings: these two are at each other's throats! and a new case begins ofc

Your day started out perfectly.

You sorted more of your belongings into boxes for the movers. Everything will be shipped ahead so it arrives shortly after you do at your apartment in Virginia. You’re running ahead of schedule, so you even have time to stop for a good breakfast before heading into the office.

The day felt…too good to be true. And you quickly find out why. 

“The BAU?”

Your superior, Agent Reynolds, sits across from you and raises an eyebrow, assuming incorrectly that you haven’t heard of the branch. “The Behavioral Analy—”

“Yes, I know what the BAU is,” you cut him off, something he’s used to, waving your hand sharply. “Why the BAU?”

“You were requested,” he replies simply with a slight shrug.

“By who?”

“Agent Hotchner, as I’m told.”

That is the last name you ever expected him to say. 

“Hotch?” you echo incredulously. “You’re kidding.”

Reynolds sighs. “I’m really not.” You know deep down Reynolds will miss you, but he’ll also thank god every day that he doesn’t have to put up with your attitude anymore. 

“Huh.” You could laugh. You almost do. “Interesting.”

Your now ex-boss gives you a look, and a sigh. “What now?”

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “Agent Hotchner and I have met before, that’s all.”

+++

Ten and a half years prior to the present day, you worked on a case with Aaron Hotchner. 

Key word: case. One singular case.

You were joined by agents Gideon, Morgan, and, of course, Hotchner. You were the only woman with them at the time, and that already threatened to drive you up a wall. To make matters worse, you and Hotch could not get along to save anyone’s lives. 

The two of you butted heads for two weeks straight, but even that is sugar coating it. He raised his voice at you and you raised your voice right back. Of course, only in private. In the field, you were as professional as can be. But in the tiny conference room that you had to set up for them coming in unannounced? All bets were off.

You’ve never been a particularly angry person, but something about Hotch brought all your anger to the surface.

He was the most arrogant man you had ever come across. He explained things to you that you already knew, and even when you told him you were aware of the topic, he’d continue explaining like he hadn’t heard you, just out of spite.

He underestimated you in ways that had your blood boiling. He wouldn’t send you to interview anyone, despite that being your area of expertise. He had you doing busy work, like a goddamn intern. 

You were your office’s own little BAU. You had read Gideon’s papers, been to profiling lectures. You became a profiler because you knew your city needed one, and by your fifth year in the office, you were one. You knew what you were doing, and Hotch treated you like a newbie. 

He always walked around in a damn suit and tie. Does he not own a t-shirt? Does he know what that is? Would it kill him to breathe once in a while?

Why does he have to look like he constantly has a stick up his ass?

Of course, you aren’t totally innocent. You found his buttons and pushed them since day one. He hated being talked over or shouted at, so those became your favorite things. Especially after he began doing them to you.

Don’t disobey direct orders, he said. You did. And you got the results needed, so he had no choice but to move on.

Don’t come into the interrogation room unless asked for, he said. You did anyway. The unsub needed to feel important, a high priority, and he wasn’t. So, you walked in and told Hotch that the Attorney General of the United States was on the phone. It worked. While Hotch “spoke with the Attorney General,” you got a confession. Hotch had to thank you through gritted teeth.

When the case was solved and the BAU left town, you popped a bottle of fucking champagne. Good riddance you screamed and drank straight from the foaming top.

+++

You mutter under your breath the entire drive to the BAU. Your boxes arrived this morning, but you haven’t had a chance to unpack them, so your apartment is currently a shitshow. 

And now you’re driving to deal with another shitshow. 

You haven’t received any emails or texts from Hotch, which is odd, but you’re sure as hell not questioning it. The less you have to deal with him, the better. He probably shares the same sentiment, which is why he hasn’t contacted you.

From far away, Quantico looks more like a prison than it does a headquarters. You hope it doesn’t feel the same way it looks.

The BAU office is just a short elevator ride up from the parking garage, and you dread every second of it. When the doors open on the BAU floor, you want to scream.

But you’re a professional, not a toddler, so you walk your ass through the glass doors and into the bullpen, your head held high like an adult.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Hi Morgan,” you mirror his grin, accepting his hug. “Miss me?”

He’s in the same black t-shirt and black jeans he always wears, his haircut just the same but shorter. And he finally got rid of the “shaving my face every morning” routine. Stubble looks much better on him.

“For ten years,” Morgan reminds you. “What brings you here?”

You shrug cheekily, feigning innocence. “I heard there was an opening.”

His grin, somehow, grows wider and brighter. “Come here!” He tackles you in another hug, this time lifting you up and spinning you. “God is on my side to-day. Where’s Reid?”

“Putting a disastrous amount of sugar in his coffee,” a blonde woman says as she passes, then stops. “Oh, hi. I’m JJ, you must be Agent L/N. I heard you were coming in today.”

You escape from Morgan’s grip to shake JJ’s hand. “That’s me. JJ, you said?”

She nods, shifting her feet to a more comfortable position in her heels. “I’m the BAU liaison, so you’ll see a lot of me. And very little of me. It’s complicated.”

“I hear that,” you chuckle, just glad to see another woman has joined the team.

And to your surprise, another joins the circle, this one with black hair parted down the middle. “Emily Prentiss,” she says, sticking out her hand. “Are we finally getting another woman around here?”

You nod, glad to hear she agrees with your unspoken comment. “Looks like it.”

“Did someone call my name?”

You turn and see the infamous Dr. Reid stirring a mug of sugar with a splash of coffee. He’s wearing a cardigan, per usual, and what looks like the same pair converse from when you first met him five years ago at a lecture the BAU put on. He was brand new back then. His eyebrows furrow when he sees you, and then they go wide.

“Y/N? Hi!” he says excitedly, nearly spilling his drink. “It’s been so long! Wha— What are you doing here?”

You give JJ and Emily a look that only you three truly understand. “Why do none of the men assume I’ll be joining the team?”

Emily laughs. “Believe me, I wish I knew.”

“Wait, seriously?” Reid blurts. “Are you really joining us?”

“Sure am,” you grin. “And once I get out of this meeting with Hotch, you’re telling me when the hell you joined a boyband.”

“Oh, ouch,” Morgan taps Reid’s arm lightly with a grin.

“Uh, you too, Derek,” you punch him, letting him know he isn’t off the hook either. “What’s up with the shirt? Do you not own another color?”

“Damn, momma,” Morgan groans. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” you pat his cheek.

“I like you already,” Emily grins.

“Agent L/N,” an unmistakable voice comes from the top of the stairs, effectively ruining the moment. 

He definitely hasn’t changed, you think to yourself as you slowly turn around. 

“Agent Hotchner,” you mimic his tone. “Nice to see you again.”

He grips the railing a little too tightly. And he’s still wearing a damn suit, with a damn tie knotted so tight you wonder if it’s choking him. If it’s not, you want it to be. Maybe he’ll shut up then. 

“I believe our meeting was scheduled for 9am,” he says, earning a sideways glance from the other man standing on the balcony. 

“It still is,” you reply, looking beside his head at the clock on the wall and shit. “I’m late. That’s my fault, sir. I apologize.”

“Yes, it is,” he says. “We need to make this short. Hurry up.” 

He turns and disappears into his office like some imitation of Dracula. You give Derek a helpless look.

“Welcome back,” Reid says, grimacing.

“Thanks, bud,” you reply, knowing he means well. “If any of you hear any screaming, pay no mind, that’s just how we greet each oth—”

“Agent L/N!” Hotch shouts from his doorway.

“Coming!” you shout back, just as loud and just as annoyed. “For fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself.

You hop up the stairs two at a time, reaching Hotch’s office in seconds. 

The man that was beside Hotch offers you a smile. “I’m Agent Rossi,” he extends his hand. 

“Agent L/N,” you return the friendly expression, shaking his hand, just glad that he at least seems happy to meet you. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Rossi nods slowly, mouthing, “Good luck.”

You like him already. You smirk.

Hotch is standing behind his desk when you walk into his office, anger written all over his face. His arms are crossed over his chest, fingers picking at his nails ever so slightly.

“Close the door.”

“Promise not to shoot me?” you joke, but it doesn’t land. You shut the door and take a seat in front of his desk while he remains standing. “Well?”

Finally, he speaks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You let out a laugh. “Oh, great.” You sit up because this is just stupid. “Are you kidding me? This is the last division I wanted to work in, but I was transferred here. At your behest, might I add—”

“I can assure you, Agent L/N, I did not request that you join my team,” he says as he sits down, rolling toward his desk and placing his arms over the files littered before him.

“Well then Agent Reynolds is a fucking liar, I guess,” you deadpan. “He’s the one who told me I was assigned to the BAU — because of you.”

“Well it wasn’t me.”

“Glad we got that settled,” you shoot back, wanting instead to add, like I fucking care if it was you or not. “Listen, whether either of us likes it or not, I was assigned here, so I’m here. If you want me to leave, take it up with Agent Reynolds or whoever the fuck really requested me. But I can’t do shit about this, and this is now my job, so I’m not leaving just because you want to have some pissing contest.”

He looks like he’s chewing on fire. “Your job security is not my problem—”

“For God’s sake, call your fucking boss, it won’t make you any less of a man to ask a goddamn question about why you have a new agent in your office.”

Hotch glares at you, but does as you say, picking up his desk phone and pressing a few buttons.

You sit back in your chair, waiting in silence. You turn your head to look through the blinds because Hotch didn’t close them all the way, and you nearly start to laugh. Huddled around one desk, Morgan, JJ, Emily, Reid, and another blonde woman dressed in bright colors and shapes are listening intently to Reid who is no doubt lip reading and translating this entire conversation.

Finally, the line connects and Hotch starts speaking. Almost as quick as the phone call begins, it ends.

“Well?” you ask.

“There was some miscommunication,” Hotch admits, though he does not look happy about it. “Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

You smile sarcastically. “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“You’re dismissed,” he says. “We’ll meet in the conference room in five minutes to discuss the rest of today. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir,” you mutter as you escape his office, just glad he didn’t torture you with a handshake.

Emerging from Hotch’s office, you stand against the railing and ask the team where the conference room is.

Morgan points to your left. “Why?”

“He told me we’re meeting there to discuss—”

“That’s on hold now,” JJ says, whirling around the BAU with an armful of files. “We’ve got a case. Missing girl, thirteen years old.” She passes out files in the bullpen, handing one to you as she ascends the stairs.

“Shit,” you mutter. “How long has she been missing?”

“Starting without me?” Hotch asks as he walks out of his office. He takes a file from JJ and says a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Yep, we are,” you say right back, scanning your file. You think you hear Rossi let out a chuckle at your response. “Gone since this morning. Are they certain it wasn’t overnight?”

“The mother dropped Lila off at school this morning at seven, and by nine, she was absent,” JJ explains as everyone fills into the conference room. “They paged her at school over the intercom, but she’s not in any of the classrooms.”

“How are we hearing about this so quickly?” Morgan asks. “I mean, I’m glad, but it’s been…just over an hour. We don’t normally have this much time.”

“Because,” JJ pauses, pointing the remote toward the TV. “This is Lila’s father.”

On the screen, the FBI’s Most Wanted are staring back at you. JJ clicks again, and one face comes forward.

“Who?” Emily says.

“Richard Monroe,” Reid says aloud. “He’s been on the run for almost two years. He’s said to have killed a dozen people, all females, but they suspect there might be more. Every time we’ve come close to catching him, he gets away.”

“And now his daughter is missing,” Rossi adds. “I’m guessing this guy is our unsub.”

“I don’t know,” you stare into Richard’s eyes on the screen. “When was he last seen?”

“You can investigate that when we get there,” Hotch says curtly. “They’re waiting for us and we’ll lose time by flying. Wheels up in ten.”

Everyone files out of the room and Hotch stays back, waiting for you to be the last one in the room.

“Agent L/N,” Hotch gets your attention. “Since you’ve never tackled a case like this before, try your best to follow orders, and watch what the team does. Don’t make any rash decisions and don’t go off on your own.”

None of his comments anger you as much as the first one. “You don’t know that I’ve never encountered something like this.”

“Don’t argue with me when we have a missing girl,” Hotch snaps. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply, pushing past him.

“I hope you have a go bag,” he calls after you. “There will be no time for shopping when we’re on the ground.”

“Then I’ll just wear your clothes!” you yell back, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him. You hear Morgan snicker down in the bullpen. 

“Agent L/N,” Hotch says, and when you turn around, you see he’s giving you his famous stare.

You sigh. “My bag is in my car. It’ll take me two minutes to grab it. That’s clearly less than ten. Unless you have anything else to say that might delay me further?”

“Go,” he says, waving you away as he heads into his office to grab his bag. “Now.”

+++

While you’re on the jet, you do some research on Richard Monroe. He’s a grade A piece of shit if you’ve ever seen one.

But he’s not the type to go after his daughter.

“Garcia, can you check and see if Richard tried at all to contact Lila on her cell?” you ask.

“I would, sweets, but I can’t find Lila’s phone. Their house phone, however, has no calls.”

“He wouldn’t call the house phone, not with Lila’s mom watching over her like a hawk,” you murmur. 

Hotch lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That her mother would be overbearing.”

“Her father’s a serial killer on the run, Hotch,” you reply. “Any mother would keep tabs on her daughter’s every breath if she had a father like that. It’s logic.”

“She makes a fair point,” Rossi says.

“It’s unfounded,” Hotch ignores him, still dead set on irritating you. “Until you talk to her mother, don’t jump to any conclusions about her behavior.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Until I do?”

“Yes, you will be talking to her mother when we get on the ground. Morgan will go with you.” He nods to Derek. “Reid, you and JJ get set up at the precinct. Prentiss, Rossi, and I will go to the middle school. We’ll meet back at the precinct to discuss our next steps.”

You share a look with Morgan before sinking back in your chair, glaring at the file instead of Hotch.

It's going to be a long fucking day.

[nxsturn]

les ( m.s )

warnings: heavy angst, unhealthy relationship (if you squint).

the apartment feels small tonight, despite the city lights flooding through the windows. the hum of the world outside is constant, but inside, everything feels muted.

he’s been pacing back and forth in the kitchen for what feels like hours, his hand running through his hair every few minutes. his phone constantly in his hand, but tonight, it’s like it’s burning him. he keeps looking at it, putting it down, then picking it back up again, like he’s waiting for something to change.

you sit on the couch, trying not to let the silence between you grow. you’ve gotten used to this—his restless energy, the way the fame creeps into every part of his life, even when he doesn’t want it to. you know him better than anyone else does, but lately, you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for him to fall.

finally, he stops pacing and looks at you. “i don’t know what’s happening anymore,” he says, his voice tight, but there’s no anger in it. it’s just exhaustion. “i don’t know who i am when i’m not in front of a camera, and when i am, it’s like.. i don’t know if i’m even me anymore,”

you watch him for a second, trying to figure out the right words. you’ve always been the one who holds things together, the one who listens and supports and reminds him of who he is when the world starts spinning too fast. but right now, even you feel a little lost.

“matt,” you say softly, your voice barely a whisper. “you’re still you. you’re just.. not the version of you the world wants to see,”

he shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “but that’s the thing, isn’t it? i’m not just some guy anymore. i’m not even just your guy. i’m everyone’s. and i don’t know how to stop being that,”

you feel the weight of his words, and you wish you had an answer. something to make it all better, to fix the cracks that have started to show in both of your lives. but you don’t know how to fix this. it’s not something you can just patch up with kind words and comforting gestures. you both know it.

“i never wanted this for us,” he continues, his voice breaking a little. “i didn’t want to drag you into all this. i didn’t want you to feel like you’re just watching me disappear,”

you stand up then, crossing the room to him, and without a word, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. his body stiffens for a moment, like he’s not sure how to react. but then, slowly, he exhales, the tension in him starting to melt. you can feel the weight of it — the strain of trying to hold it all together, the pressure that’s been building inside of him.

you hold him tighter, pressing your cheek against his chest. “you haven’t disappeared,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’ve just gotten lost in everything that comes with it. but i’m here. i’ll always be here,”

he looks down at you, his face softening, but his eyes are still clouded with doubt. “i don’t know if i can keep doing this,” he admits. “i don’t know how much longer i can pretend like everything’s fine,”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you say. “not with me,”

he pulls you into an even tighter embrace, his face buried in your hair. “i’m sorry,” he whispers. “i don’t know how to keep it all together. and i don’t want to lose you in the process,”

you hold him closer, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat steadying, the warmth of him slowly pushing away the cold that’s settled between you both. “you won’t lose me. i’m not going anywhere,”

it’s strange, how much of the weight of his world you carry, how much of it you try to absorb so he doesn’t have to. you know it’s not healthy, but you can’t help it. because even when he’s lost in the spotlight, even when it feels like the world is taking him away from you, you’ll be here. you’ll always be here.

he pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “do you think we can fix this?” he asks, almost too quietly, like he’s afraid of the answer.

you take a deep breath, then smile gently. “we will. we just need to take a step back and remember what we’re fighting for,”

he nods, and for a moment, the room is quiet. no distractions, no cameras, no expectations. just the two of you.

©nxsturn

based of the song by Childish Gambino!

[azuredawn81]

cherry jubilee with macklin!!!

'tis the damn season taylor

road not taken | macklin celebrini x ex gf!reader

♡ summary: everyone dated someone in elementary school. these relationships never lasted. macklin and y/n were no different. after all, their “dates” were just going to the park and drinking caprisuns or sitting on his couch watching pokemon. their “relationship” was just playing together at recess and y/n giving a short kiss on the cheek after his games. but even after their “break-up”, they were still good friends, until he moved in 2019. it’s been years now, with no contact, but now he’s coming back to vancouver to play the canucks.

♡ pairing: macklin celebrini x reader

♡ content: fluff, angst, insecure!macklin

♡ word count: 3k

♡ warnings: none

♡ prompt: ‘tis the damn season - taylor swift

♡ note: this was written with interspersed breaks of holiday inflatables.

♡ taglist: @devilinpradaheels @Summert158 @lekkerfrikandelletje @camiesully

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“so, hometown game,” will began, “how are you feeling?”

“i don’t know. it’s been my goal to be in the nhl, but now, i’m playing against my childhood team.”

“on your other childhood team.”

“the sharks don’t count.”

“i mean, you were a kid when you moved here.”

“the sharks don’t count.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin sat on the couch, with y/n. it had been such a big day. they had just wrapped up sixth grade, the end of elementary school.

“whatcha thinking about?” she asked, looking up from where she nestled at his side.

“us.”

“specifically?”

“i don’t know. i just like being your friend.”

“i like being your friend too.”

“it’s nice.”

“remember when we got married in your backyard?”

“y/n, don’t remind me.”

“you called me mrs celebrini for a month, until you forgot.”

“didn’t you ask aiden to help you divorce me?”

“maybe.”

“but look at us now.”

“do you wanna go run in the sprinkler.”

“is that even a question?”

she grabbed his hand and they ran next door to her house, into her backyard. her little sister was already playing in the sprinkler, overjoyed to see y/n and macklin.

it was going to be a nice summer.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

he had grown used to the mics all around him, all the time. that was the nature of being 1st overall, a star rookie, a standout player. he had grown used to the world knowing all about his life, his family, feeling like they were entitled to know more than what was already out on the internet.

“macklin! how do you feel about playing the canucks tomorrow?”

”were you excited about going to california?”

“did you miss vancouver?”

“are you excited to be back?”

“i never wanted to leave.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“macklin, you’re so weird.”

“no, i’m not!”

“yeah, you are. you’re always with y/n.”

“and?”

“is she your girlfriend or something?”

“not anymore.”

“not anymore? so not even she wants to date you?”

“it’s not like that!”

“do you wish you were dating her?”

“i- she’s my best friend!”

“guys, macklin’s in love with y/n!”

“no, i’m not!”

“loser!”

macklin was quiet the whole car ride home from practice. everything said was true. he was weird. y/n was not his girlfriend anymore. not even she wanted to date him. he did wish he was dating her. he was in love with y/n.

“mom?”

“yes, dear?”

“how did you know you were in love with dad?”

“well, we went to school together and he was just super sweet.”

“would you be sad if he had moved?”

“macklin.”

“mom, it’s an honest question.”

“of course i would’ve been sad. he might not have gotten the chance to tell me how he felt.”

macklin let out a quiet sob. clearly, his situation was hopeless.

“what’s wrong, dear?”

“we’re moving in a few months. and i’ll be in c-california and y/n will be here.”

“i know she’s your friend, but you can make more friends down there.”

“mom, i have a crush on y/n!”

“oh my. now, that’s different.”

“and i can’t do anything about it because we’re moving!”

“mack, don’t start that. you know how much your father’s new job will help our family.”

“i’m her best friend too! she’ll have no one!”

“that’s not true. y/n is a little social butterfly.”

“i can’t leave her here.”

“i get that you’re having all these feelings, but you’re 12. you’ll meet other girls.”

“they aren’t her.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin sat on his bed in the hotel in vancouver. will was setting up his toiletries in the bathroom.

“it’s nice of them to let us stay a little bit after,” will said, trying to lighten the mood.

“yeah.”

“mack, are you okay? you’ve been moping this whole time.”

“it’s weird, will. this was my team. some of these guys were playing when i still lived here. i’ve seen quinn hughes play here.”

“and now you’re playing against him.”

“it’s weird!”

“there’s something else bugging you.”

“i’m fine.”

“mack, you can talk to me. we’re best friends.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

mom: look what i found

mom: attachment: one image

mom: i heard she’s going to be there

mack: ok?

mack: i haven’t talked to her since middle school.

mack: i don’t care.

mom: don’t give me that

mom: you two were best friends

mom: you should care a little bit

mack: i don’t

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“c’mon, let’s go explore.”

“i don’t need to explore. i know this city.”

“how long has it been since you’ve been back? c’mon, macklin, let’s go.”

“fine.”

macklin and will made their way out of the hotel, ready to go out on the town.

“do you think you’ll recognize anyone?”

“i hope not.”

will must’ve spoken that into being or something, because right as they turned that corner, mack walked right into someone he knew.

“oh my god, macklin???”

“y/n?” his y/n. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay.”

“you guys know each other?” will asked, looking between y/n and mack.

“yeah… yeah, we do.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin couldn’t breathe. y/n had her head on his shoulder, her hands fidgeting in her lap. they were laying in the grass of her backyard, looking up at the vancouver sky together for the last time.

“do you really have to go?”

“i’d stay if i could.”

“you could stay with my family.”

“i don’t think your dad would like that.”

“it’d be fine.”

“he’d make me sleep on the porch.”

“that’s better than you being in stupid sacramento.”

“san francisco.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s not vancouver. it’s not next to me.”

“it’ll be good for hockey.”

“really? leaving vancouver will be good for hockey?”

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

“it’s fine.”

“no, it’s not.”

“macklin, you leave tomorrow. i can’t do anything about it.”

he laced his fingers in hers. “i’m sorry.”

“do you want to spend the night?”

“tonight?”

“well, you won’t be here tomorrow night.”

the two kids giggled as macklin pulled y/n to her feet and they ran inside.

“mom!”

“what is it?”

“can macklin spend the night?”

“tonight?”

“mom, he’s leaving!”

“i suppose. make good choices.”

she took his hand and walked upstairs to her room, the fairy lights creating a warm, inviting feel.

“i don’t have my pajamas.”

“lucky for you, you can’t remember to bring your stuff home.”

y/n opened a drawer, full of his stuff.

“that’s where it all went!”

he took a hoodie and pair of shorts and went to the bathroom to change. y/n put on one of mack’s big shirts, the fabric swallowing her whole. his dad had bought it a few sizes big on accident and never got around to returning it.

“y/n? are you decent?”

“yeah!”

macklin came back in. “remind me to steal my clothes back.”

“nah.”

“you’re the worst.”

they climbed underneath the fluffy pink duvet and just couldn’t stop giggling. “you’re my best friend.”

“you’re my best friend too, mack. always have been.”

“always will be?”

“nah, you’re ditching me and for what? the sharks?”

“y/n, please be serious.”

“of course, you’ll always be my best friend. will i always be yours?”

“duh.”

and there they laid, in y/n’s bed. they just talked and talked, planning visits and to reunite after high school. macklin shared how nervous he was, how badly he wanted to stay with his team, his home, her. y/n listened, her fingers tracing flowers and stars on his arm.

“what if you forget me?”

“like anything else is worth remembering.”

“i’m being real.”

“i won’t. but i have a real concern about you forgetting me.”

“i could never.”

“whatever you say, mr. hockey star.”

“y/n, i could the next mcdavid and wouldn’t forget you.”

“you say that now.”

“not even crosby could forget someone like you.”

“i’m sure he did. cole harbour is a lot smaller than pittsburgh.”

“he definitely visits.”

“yes, but everyone knows crosby. everyone knows mcdavid. everyone knows gretzky.”

“no one knows celebrini.”

“they will. but no one knows l/n.”

“i do.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

somehow, he’d ended up across the table from y/n at a little coffee shop. her hair was longer, her cheekbones more defined. she was more grown-up, but at the same time, the same girl he left here.

“so, what are you doing back in vancouver?” he asked, not looking up from his water.

“winter break.”

“where are you going to school?”

“university of toronto. great psychology program.”

“nice. i’m here for the game.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“everyone knows, macklin.”

“so you knew i was on the sharks?”

“i didn’t stop following hockey when you left.”

“you never said anything after the draft.”

“what would i have said? hey macklin, sorry i haven’t reached out since we were thirteen. congrats on going first.”

“that would’ve been something.”

“i’m not the one who gave up.”

“are you saying i did?”

“i’m saying maybe the u14 aaa junior sharks had a little something to do with it.”

“don’t act like that, y/n!”

“you know, i thought for the longest time, maybe hockey just kept you busy and i shouldn’t take it personally. but then i saw that blonde in all your posts.”

“y/n, you don’t get it.”

“this is stupid. why did i bother? you’ve changed, i’ve changed. can’t expect a guy to remember you when he’s got a new toy.”

she stood up and took her espresso with her. “bye mack.”

“no y/n, come back.”

“why?”

“you can’t villainize me for dating someone else. we were friends. and you definitely dated people too.”

“so, let’s call it even. fresh start. i’m here for a few days. let’s catch up, clean slate.”

“i’m going home. you know where to find me.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“dude, you got a date or what?”

“or what?”

“is it with that girl.”

“yep.”

“who is she?”

“y/n l/n. my best friend.”

“ouch.”

“sorry, will, she came first.”

“bros before hoes, mack.”

“will, there’s pictures of us in her bathtub in her mom’s scrapbook.”

“damn.”

macklin took a look in the mirror to adjust his tie. “how do i look?”

“snappy.”

“i’ll see you around.”

“use protection!”

“shut up, dude!”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

he stood in front of that familiar house, with the cream walls, the wrap around porch, and the brown door. mrs. l/n’s lavender bushes were still bright and vibrant, even after all these years. he raised his fist and knocked on the door. mr. l/n opened it, his eyes wide in shock.

“macklin?”

“is y/n home?”

he turned inside. “y/n! you have a gentleman caller!”

y/n appeared shortly after, in a little black dress and satin pumps. her makeup was perfect and her hair was in a cute half-up, half-down.

“speak of the devil.”

macklin quickly hugged her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. “missed you.”

“missed you too, big guy.”

“y/n, honey, did you arrange this?”

“yeah, we ran into each other earlier.”

“i see.”

“bye, dad.”

“make good choices.”

she stepped outside, her car keys in hand. she adjusted her purse on her shoulder and switched her keys to the other hand, so she could hold macklin’s.

“so, lily had to use the car for some outing with her boyfriend.”

“so…”

“we’re taking the truck.”

“that’s your dad’s baby!”

“i’m his baby, thank you very much.”

macklin helped y/n into the cab of the truck. “why’d he spring for such tall tires? he works in finance.”

“i barely understand the guy.”

she put the key into the ignition and put her bag in macklin’s lap. “thanks for being my passenger princess tonight.”

“yeah, your dad would kill me if i touched the wheel.”

after she turned the headlights on, she looked over at mack. in his eyes, she saw the same boy who held her hand under the stars, who threatened the playground bullies, who kissed her in order to steal the last cookie. she shook her head like an etch-a-sketch to erase the thought.

“where do you want to go?”

“we could just ride around.”

y/n put the truck in reverse and backed out of the driveway, turning onto the street.

“you’re trouble, celebrini.”

“yeah, but you love it.”

“i missed it.”

“what’d you do without me?”

“cried.”

“actually?”

“yeah.”

“i’m sorry.”

“blame your dad.”

“hey.”

“not like you wanted to leave anyway.”

“i missed you a lot too. california’s got nothing on you.”

“don’t lie.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“y/n, did you hear?”

“hear what?” ”macklin’s supposed to be the top draft pick.”

“who?”

“celebrini? our old neighbor?”

“oh, him? cool, i guess.”

that was all anyone ever talked about. her mom, still close friends with robyn would never stop gushing about how great macklin was at hockey. the other people in her grade were thoroughly impressed that someone from little vancouver was going first, as if connor bedard hadn’t done it last year, as if macklin still lived here.

“didn’t you guys date?”

“yeah, in fourth grade.”

“but weren’t you friends?”

“not anymore.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin celebrini and will smith - two peas in a pod

celebrini and smith - star rookies and best friends

will and macklin - how their friendship is shaping sharks hockey

“i can’t believe this.” y/n said, flopping onto the bed in her dorm. “i’ve truly been replaced.”

“when did you last see each other?” lena, her roommate asked.

“not the point.”

“what’s the point then?”

“he said i’d always be his best friend.”

“didn’t he say that he’d never forget you too?”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin was chatting with will during warm ups when he noticed a sign with his face on it. the sign read “hey #71! i’ll trade you a kiss for a puck!” and had many, many hearts drawn on it.

he skated up to them and said “i need to see your face first!”

they dropped the sign reveal y/n. she made half of a hand heart, which macklin completed.

“meet me by the player tunnel after. name drop me. i’ll get you that kiss!”

“good luck! score a goal for me!”

“i’ll score five!”

macklin did, in fact, not score five goals. he scored two, which was good enough for y/n. she was let into the area by the locker rooms and waited patiently for macklin. eventually, he came out, his hair wet with water from his post game shower. his tie was askew, but that didn’t matter. this macklin - her macklin (not that she’d say that out loud) - looked the same as that macklin, the one who insisted she come to all of his games. he had that same glimmer in his eyes, the same smile when he saw her.

“so about that kiss?” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“i have something to say first.”

“i have something to say too.”

“one?”

“two.”

“three.”

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

“you are?”

“since when?”

“y/n, i’ve been in love with you since we were ten and you asked me to be your boyfriend after grayson julian said she wanted to be my girlfriend. i remember you saying you couldn’t lose your best friend to someone mean like her. i loved you through every bad test, every argument over google slides templates for projects, every mile we had to run in pe. i loved you every mile i flew away. i loved you with every goal i scored, every assist i did, every pass i made. i loved you in san francisco, i loved you in minnesota, i loved you in chicago, i loved you in boston, i love you in san jose, and i love you here, in vancouver, if you’ll have me.”

“macklin celebrini, i am so extremely mad at you.”

“you are?”

“you ghosted me a week after you landed in california!”

“i didn’t know how to manage a relationship at age 13, much less a long distance one!”

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i know, i feel really stupid.”

“but you’re my idiot.”

“i am?”

“mack, i’ve been in love with you since we were nine and we were drinking caprisuns on my couch. i couldn’t get the straw to poke a whole and you took the pouch and did it for me. i was in love with you when you lost games and tournies, when you got picked on for being bad at math, and when we watched the stars in the backyard. i never stopped loving you.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin couldn’t breathe. y/n had her head on his shoulder, her hands fidgeting in her lap. they were laying in the grass of her backyard, looking up at the vancouver sky together.

“i didn’t want to leave. but i couldn’t stay.”

“mack…”

“if i could’ve stayed, i would’ve. i would’ve slept on your porch and given up hockey if i meant i could stay here, with you.”

“you don’t need to do that.”

“but i would. if i had a time machine, i’d go back and convince my parents to stay.”

“no.”

“what?”

“if you did, things would be different. yes, we might’ve dated in high school, but we also might’ve lost each other.”

“i guess you’re right.”

“aren’t you glad you kept your options open?”

“yeah,” he kissed her cheek, “i really am.”

“the road not taken is looking really good right now.”

“does it?”

“mhm… he’s tall with perfectly tousled hair and probably abs.”

“i’ve got abs.”

“prove it.”

“you’re terrible!”

“you love me!”

“yeah, i do.”

“we could just sleep out here.”

“it’s december in canada. we’re going inside.”

“sounds good, babe.”

“babe?”

“you like it?”

“love it.”

and with that, he took her hand, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. he slipped one hand behind her head, the other one to her waist.

“i think i still owe you that kiss.”

[clownstillwritesfanfic]

Wake Up Mr. Sleepyhead - Touya Todoroki x GN!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: The boy everyone had affectionately called “Mr. Sleepyhead” has finally woken up from his three year coma. You never imagined things would go down hill so quickly.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 6,528

Warnings/Notes: Reader is emotionally fucked, reader has a quirk, Touya and Reader are 16, mostly canon compliant, implied child death, pseudo enemies to lovers 

Disclaimer: Reader is kept as ambiguous as possible. This fic is safe for plus size readers and readers of colour. If you find something that contradicts this, please let me know. No use of Y/N.

———————————————————————

It’s been three years since he showed up.

You still remember that day so clearly.

You were thirteen when he arrived. You had been there since the opening of the children’s house. A man approached your parents when your quirk got out of control when you were eight and offered to enroll you in his newly built “school”. It felt more like a daycare than anything else. You learned a few school subjects but there was a lot of quirk training as well.

You were terrified, but persisted. Since you were one of the first, you got to witness other kids joining, and some of them got to leave. No one knew where they went, and Mr. Sunny wouldn’t disclose any information either. He’d always try to change the subject. You learned pretty quickly to let it go and not think too hard about it.

All the new kids always flocked to you. You were one of the few left from the first group, and kids were always so curious, so they always pestered you with questions. Because of this, you became one of the unofficial helpers. Mr. Sunny was the only staff, other than the doctor that would come in every few months for check ups or if someone got injured passed what a simple band-aid could fix. And then of course there was the House Master.

He never showed up in person. He always spoke through a screen. You were probably one of the few people that actually saw a glimpse of him back when he propositioned your parents.

Because you were so popular with the kids, it was easy to help care for them. They all saw you as an older sibling, even calling you as such sometimes. Although, over the years, you got tired. You hated this place. And you slowly started to hate the people in it. You hated how needy some of the kids were. How happy they all seemed to be despite never being allowed to see or talk to their parents. All the intense quirk training and unwanted child rearing wore you out. You slowly started to become a shell of a person. You were able to fake a smile in order to please the kids and throw off any suspicion Mr. Sunny had of you, but deep down, you couldn’t feel emotions anymore. You didn’t care about any of the kids that adored you.

And that included him.

You knew, once he was wheeled in on his bed, comatose, that you were going to have to help out. And you were right.

Mr. Sunny took care of any bathing and dressing issues, and the doctor took care of any medical ones such as replacing his IV and monitoring his healing. But you were in charge of keeping him company whenever you could and shooing away any stray children that snuck in to his room.

You hated it. You thought it was stupid. He’s in a coma, what sort of company would he need?

You mostly sat by his bed, staring at him. Waiting for some kind of movement so you could do anything else but this. But the only movement you saw was his chest slowly rising and falling and the only thing you could hear was the beeping of his heart monitor.

He looked awful when he first showed up. He had reconstructive surgery on his jaw, and third degree burns all over. They did manage to have someone with a healing quirk try and speed up the recovery, but they could only do so much. You weren’t gonna lie…you didn’t want to be near him at first. Because of his burnt, dead, skin he smelled awful. He needed to be bathed regularly but that could only do so much.

As he healed, and fresh new skin came in on some parts of his body and face, he started to look (and smell) better. You watched his healing process from start to finish. Talking to him sometimes as there was nothing else to do and sitting in silence can only get you so far with out wanting to rip your hair out.

You talked about anything and everything. The weather, the other kids, training, any trouble you had with the little school work they actually provided, how curious the kids were about him, etc. Over time, you started to enjoy the time you had with him, even if he never responded.

It was nice to get away from the rest of the “family”. Plus, it was an excuse to get away after a particularly hard session of training. Everyone here had powerful quirks. A lot of them had bodies that couldn’t adapt to their quirk. That was supposedly the purpose of this place. To help people cope with it all.

Luckily, you weren’t one of those people, your quirk didn’t effect your body much. Over use would exhaust you but it wasn’t as bad as some of the other kids. And definitely no where near as bad as this kid.

It was a normal day at the school when he woke up. You were watching over some of the older kids while Mr. Sunny took the younger kids for nap time. Most of them were doing some kind of arts and craft or playing, others opted to catch up on some school work.

You were helping a girl with her writing when you heard one of the new kids shout.

“Oh, the sleepyhead’s awake!”

You didn’t pay attention to what she was saying, more so the volume at which she spoke.

“Keep it down. You know the young ones are sleeping.” You scolded not looking up from the paper the girl was working on.

“Mr. Sunny!” A different girl yelled. “The sleepyhead’s awake!”

“Oi!” You shouted at her, still not noticing what everyone was yelling about. “He’s busy. Sit down and be quiet.”

“Where…am I?” A deeper and raspy male voice spoke. Now, that got your attention.

Your head snapped up towards the door where the voice came from and stared directly at an all too familiar face. Holy shit…he’s awake. His eyes are so…blue. You don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes that blue before. Seeing him awake and standing was weird.

You were released from your thoughts when the new girl spoke to him.

“This is our home! You slept for…let’s see…three years! You slept for three whole years! I just arrived, so I don’t know much, but that’s what Mr. Sunny said.” She explained. He looked shocked and upset at the news.

You stood up abruptly, your chair squeaking loudly on the floor. “Caroline! You can’t just spring something like that on him! You’re just confusing and scaring him.” You reprimanded as you walked over to the two.

“Ah…I-I’m sorry…I just…��� Caroline tried to explain herself.

“Go sit down. I’ll handle this.” You sighed.

“But shouldn’t we tell Mr. Sun-“ another voice spoke up from the back of the room but didn’t get to finish when you interrupted them.

“NO! Don’t say anything to him yet. I’m handling this.”

You grabbed the white haired boy by the wrist, he was breathing heavily at this point and seemed to have zoned out.

“Come with me, quickly.” You dragged him out of the room and down the hallway. This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he tried pulling against you.

“W-wait! Hold on, what-“ he started before you shushed him.

You opened a closet door full of cleaning supplies and shoved him inside as he kept protesting. You shushed him every time. You slid into the closet next to him and shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” He practically yelled at this point.

“Shut up!” You whisper yelled at him and grabbed his shoulders. There wasn’t much room in the small closet but this was your best shot at being hidden for a while.

“Listen, I don’t know much about you myself, I don’t even know your name. All I know is that one day, three years ago you were found covered head to toe in third degree burns and had a missing jaw. You went through surgery to fix what they could and for three years you’ve been in a coma here. I don’t know why you specifically are here, it must be something to do with your quirk, because this is a place for kids with powerful quirks that they can’t control so they can get help. This is all I know, the grown ups don’t tell us much. I’m sorry…” you quickly explained, keeping your voice down.

“I…” He tried to process everything. “A coma? Surgery?!”

“Shhh! Not so loud. I know you’re freaked out right now and confused and I wish I could tell you more but I genuinely do not know anything else, but if it makes you feel any better…you weren’t alone. I was tasked to sit by your side basically since you arrived here.” You tried your best to calm him down.

“Really?” He still sounded like a child and you supposed he still was one, mentally he’s still 13 and everything must be so terrifying to learn. You don’t really know why you were trying to comfort him. You don’t like him anymore than the other kids. And you didn’t like them at all. You pitied him, you guessed.

“Yeah…I talked to you almost every day. Look, you’re safe here. As long as you follow the rules and don’t cause too much trouble you’ll do fine.” You sighed.

“No, I…I have to go home.” You felt despair at his words. You knew he was never going home. No one that came here ever went home…not if he could help it.

You were about to explain that to him when the door to the closet opened, blinding you both with the shitty fluorescent lights from the hallway.

“Ah, there you two are. Now, sunny, I know you’re excited that your friend is awake now, but you know why kids aren’t allowed alone together. I’ll take it from here. Please join the others in the activity room.” Mr. Sunny smiled down at you two.

You blushed furiously at the implications of his words and ripped your hands away from the boys shoulders and crossed your arms.

“You know damn well that’s not what was happening.” You muttered as you stomped past him.

“Language, sunny!” Mr. Sunny sing songed.

———————————————————————

It was night time now, all the younger kids were fast asleep, having been put to bed an hour ago, and the older kids were winding down for the night and getting ready for their bed time.

You however, were lingering outside Mr. Sunny’s office. The door was wide open…so it wasn’t like you were eavesdropping, but you were staying out of sight.

You felt like something was wrong. Like something bad was about to happen. Touya, you learned his name was at dinner, seemed adamant that he was going home. You just wanted to be there when the news was broken to him. You’d gotten used to being the therapist all the kids come running to.

“I have to get home!” You heard him plead.

“You can’t do that, sunny!” And there it was….the ball has dropped.

“Why not?” Touya argued.

“You’ll be living here with everyone else now, sunny! This is your new family! I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon!” God, you hated that fucking flower freak. You were told the same thing and you know how much it stings to hear that.

“Wait a minute! I have to get home! My dad…He probably just had work and couldn’t come. I’m sure he’s worried! I did…and said…some terrible things. I need to apologize to Mom and the others…I need Dad to see what I can do.” You could hear the pain in his voice, and yet…he still sounded like a child.

“I’m gonna be a he-“ He got cut off.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that can happen anymore.” You flinched at the voice. It’s him.

“Your burned up body was extremely hard to repair. The missing parts were filled in with regenerative tissue. Your face makes you look like someone different, but even so, you survived.” The voice cracked through the speakers.

“What are you saying? I don’t understand…someone different?” Touya whimpered.

“You can’t use your power like you did before. There was damage to your organs. Your senses, including your sense of pain, has been dulled. Your body is weakened. It will never go back to how it was before.” Damn….you didn’t know it was that bad. You felt pity for the boy.

“We would have liked to receive you in full health, too.” He continued. You could hear Touya’s shaky breathing. “We did our best, but unfortunately, we failed.”

You could hear him trying to hold back his tears. You peeked your head in and saw him bent over, clutching his face.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? You poor thing. But WE might be able to make your flames go back to normal! How about it? Will you try joining our family and learning together with us?” You wanted to punch that asshole. He ruined countless children’s lives. He ruined YOUR life. Who knows how many more of these places he has running.

“Shut up.” Touya spoke. You could hear the anger boiling in his voice. “I don’t want to learn from anyone else. The only one who can teach me is…” he threw the keyboard at the computer screen “my dad!”

“Don’t do that, sunny!” Mr. Sunny intervened, grabbing his shoulder that stupid smile on his face.

“Be quiet!” He yelled as he fought back, activating his quirk. You could feel the heat form the doorway. “Shut up!”

Suddenly, the whole room was ablaze. Touya turned and stopped when he saw you standing there. You stared back at him blankly. He huffed and ran past you down the hallway. You knew you could stop the fire. You knew it would’ve been the right thing to do. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this was your one and only chance at freedom. So you ran after him.

You caught up to him when he tried pushing open a locked door. You grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him towards the front enterance.

You both ran out the front doors as the entire building was quickly engulfed in flames. You let go of his wrist and let him lead the way. You could’ve gone your own way, but you followed him anyway. It’s not like you were dying to go home. As far as you’re concerned, you lost any family you had when your parents gave you up.

You stayed next to him as he slowed down. Soon, he was trudging along, both of you now in the middle of the city. The streets were lit by restaurant lights and the hanging street lights.

“I have…to go home.” He spoke more so to himself. You weren’t even sure he knew you were next to him. Your hands were shoved in your pockets as you looked around. You remember him saying he lived in Musutafu. That was the next city over. Not too far that it was impossible, but it would take a few hours to get there on foot.

He finally snapped out of his trance about an hour in. Most stores and restaurants were starting to close now, leaving only izakaya’s and yatai open. You passed a few with drunk patrons sat around on stools loudly chatting and laughing with each other.

You were surprised you hadn’t seen a single hero yet. In a city like this, you’d think there would be a bunch crawling around. Especially at night. At least you two were being left alone.

“Why are you following me?” He spoke up. He sounded tired. Ironic, considering he slept for three whole years.

“So you don’t die. Besides….I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I wanted to see this home you kept whining about.” You answered with a shrug.

He huffed and it was back to silence for a few minutes. He seemed to be deep in thought again as you two walked the streets.

“I killed that guy didn’t I?” He suddenly spoke up again.

“Probably shouldn’t say something like that out loud. But yeah, most likely. Bastard kinda deserved it though.” You replied.

“The whole place caught fire…oh god I probably killed everyone else…” He started to freak out.

“Nah…probably not everyone. Some of those kids have quirks that could be useful in a fire. They probably saved a bunch of the others. You probably only killed a few of them.” You realized that wasn’t a very helpful thing to say but it was too late.

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?!” He yelled, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You were now both stopped on the sidewalk as he hyperventilated.

You sighed and scratched the back of your neck. “Touya…I never gave a shit about anyone in the damn place. I was never attached to them. Everyone there annoyed me. I wanted to be left alone, but the kids liked me so goddamn much that I was put in charge of them against my will when that freak was busy. They became attached to me while I felt absolutely nothing for them. They were never my family, no matter how hard that idea was pushed. I was given up by my parents because they were terrified of my quirk. I lost all sense of a family when I walked through those doors for the first time. I don’t care if they lived or died. I’m just glad that place is burnt to the ground and I’m out of there. So if anything, I should be thanking you.”

Touya was shocked at your lack of care. He started to notice how dull your eyes were, how tired you looked. Now he was the one that started to pity you.

He let go of your shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and turned to continue walking. You followed a pace behind him silently.

——————————————————————

Hours later, it was the next day. It was dark and cloudy even though it was around noon.

Touya had come to a stop in front of a rather large traditional looking estate. You stood beside him as he stared at the huge double doors that lead to the front yard.

“Jesus…no wonder you were so desperate to get home. If my home was as nice as this I’d have burned the place down myself years ago.” You joked.

“I told you…I’m a Todoroki.” He looked at you confused.

“Am I suppose to know what that means?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

“My father is Endeavour? Number two hero in all of Japan?” He looked bewildered.

“Ah, right…not gonna lie…I thought you were lying about that.” You laughed.

He sighed, exasperated as he looked back at the doors and took a deep breath before swallowing.

He slowly pushed open one of the doors and walked through as you stood by and watched the boy you had been next to for the last three years.

He turned to you when he realized you were still stood outside the property.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

You flinched. “Do you…want me to?” You replied, confused. You thought this would be the end of the ride for you, you’d finally be alone after this.

He nodded. “I’m sure my parents will be able to help you. They would probably let you stay for as long as you want, or help you find a place to stay if you’d prefer that.”

You felt a blush ride to your cheeks. No one ever gave a shit about you like that. You didn’t know how to feel as you felt your heartbeat speed up.

You tsked and glared at the ground as you walked through. “Whatever.” You mumbled.

He smiled softly and closed the door behind you then made his way to the entrance of the house, you following behind him, hands shoved deep in your pockets.

He opened the door and let you in first.

“Mom? Dad? I’m home! I’m sorry for worrying you all but I’m back and I’m okay!” He called into the eerily quiet house. He stepped up from the genkan not bothering to put on any slippers that were near the door. You noticed that there was only two pairs at the front. You remembered him saying he had three siblings and both his parents lived with each other. But if only two people were out…why did no one answer?

You followed behind him as you looked around the spacious and very traditional house. You wished you lived in a house like this.

That’s when you both heard a childlike scream followed by an older male voice cursing and yelling commands.

Touya took off down the hall where the noises came from and you followed close behind. As you got closer you could smell smoke and wood burning and you could feel the intense heat.

He stopped at an open sliding door and stared in. You couldn’t see in from where you were standing, but you could see the flames covering the inside of that room.

Touya was stiff as he stood there, his hands clenched into tight fists. You could see tears falling down his face. Whatever he was seeing…it obviously effected him quite negatively. He silently took off down the hall as he wiped at his face with his sleeve and you stepped forward, the floor underneath your feet still warm from where he stood. You looked in and saw a young boy, probably around eight, hunched over on the floor. Perfectly split red and white hair covered his face. That must be Shoto. Touya told you about how much he resented him as a kid. The huge man standing over Shoto, holding a piece of wood must be Endeavour. Looking at him now…he doesn’t look like a hero.

You slowly went off in the direction Touya went, careful not to make too much noise. You came across an open door and looked in. There stood Touya in a nearly empty room. The most prominent thing in the room was a huge wooden shrine, intricately decorated, that he stood in front of, his hands held up in front of him in prayer. He stared blankly down at a picture frame sat in the middle of the shrine.

You debated walking in or leaving him in peace. You thought it safer to join him incase his dad left the room and saw you. You slowly and silently slid the door closed behind you and stood next to him. You looked at the picture he was staring at and noticed a younger white haired boy in a school outfit. That must’ve been him before the accident. You couldn’t help but think he looked a little cute.

You sighed and matched his pose. Bringing your hands up in front of your face in prayer. You didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

You both left not long after that, climbing out a window in order to not be seen. You let him lead the way, going wherever he felt like.

It was an hour or so by the time you both came across an abandoned building. It looked like an office of some kind, it was also clearly the victim of a villain attack of some kind. You doubt normal robbers would attack an office and make this much mess.

Touya came to a stop in front of some fallen junk and sat down. He hunched over with his arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. You both stayed silent until you heard his stomach groan quite loudly. You chuckled breathily.

“I’ll go get some food. I saw a convenience store a block away. I’ll be back soon.” You spoke softly, not wanting to break the silence too harshly.

———————————————————————

When you got back you noticed he was laying down, an arm laid over his eyes.

“M’ back” you muttered, not sure if he was awake or not. You placed the two plastic bags full of food and drinks onto the nearby table. You noticed a laptop with a charger attached, the cable running off the table and onto the floor where it was plugged into an extension cord that was attached to the wall. He must’ve found it while you were out.

You heard shuffling and looked over at him as he slowly sat up. He was looking down but you could see the tear stains on his face and his bloodshot eyes. You didn’t comment on it.

He slowly shuffled over to you and looked through one of the bags. “How did you get this much stuff?” He asked.

“Stole an old ladies wallet and took the cash before she noticed.” You answered, pulling out a warm steamed sweet potato and handed it to him. You didn’t know what he liked but it was a popular choice so you guessed he wouldn’t mind. You also pulled out a water and handed it to him.

He took both items from you and went to sit down. He pushed down the paper wrapper and took a bite of the sweet potato.

“That’s pretty illegal ya know.” He said with his mouth full.

“So is burning down a school full of kids.” You retorted, a little annoyed due to being hungry. You pulled out a pork bun and bit into it.

He scoffed and you both sat in silence as you ate.

You finished the last of your bun and took a sip of your own water. You sighed. You felt bad for snapping at him, now realizing he was just teasing you.

“Touya-“ you started before being cut off.

“That’s not my name…not anymore.” He said dejectedly.

“Oh…” Now you know what he was really doing at his shrine. Touya is dead…now all that remains is the shell of a boy. “What…uh…What do you want to be called now then?” You moved over to him and sat down next to him.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, crumpling up the wrapper and chucking it across the room.

“Well…whenever you figure it out, lemme know. I wanna be the first one to call you that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at you and smiled softly, a light blush across his face.

——————————————————————

You woke up to the sound of typing and soft cursing.

You stretched your whole body, groaning at the feeling of your vertebrae snapping into place.

Your new friend looked over his shoulder at you. “Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He looked back at the screen.

“Hmm…it’s fine. What time is it?” You yawned as you slowly stood up. Your body stiff from the pile of semi comfortable debris you piled together last night. You lifted your shirt and scratched your side.

“7:26am” he responded after glancing at the tiny clock in the corner of the screen.

You hummed as you walked over to the table and looked through the bags. There was a single small bag of chips left. You weren’t able to get much filling food yesterday and you both ate through everything else, him especially. You knew teenage boys ate like they were starving but damn was he hungry. Although you gave him some slack considering his body was forced to survive off the bare minimum to keep him alive for three fucking years.

You opened the chips and ate one anyway. You were regretting not buying toothbrushes and toothpaste but whatever.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you shoved another chip in your mouth. You tilted the bag towards him in a silent offer.

He took one and answered as he chewed. Normally you’d find that gross but you can’t be bothered to care right now. “Trying to connect to the internet but the connection is shit.”

“Trying to look at baby name sites to find your new name?” You teased.

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye, making you chuckle.

“How long have you been awake?” You ate a few more chips before leaving the rest for him.

“About an hour.” He mumbled as he tried connecting to the internet again.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get some more food. Hopeful something better than just snack food.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head.

“Uh…” He said as he looked up at you, his gaze going to your stomach that showed from your shirt riding up.

“Hm?” You fixed your shirt, not noticing he was staring.

“Your hair…” He trailed off looking at your hair all tussled from sleep. He thought it looked…cute.

You tsked and ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix it. “Better?”

He gave a thumbs up and looked back at the screen.

“Get cup noodles.” He said more like a demand.

“How the fuck are we going to eat noodles?” You questioned.

He lifted his hand and activated his quirk, small orange and red flames dancing on his palm, all with out looking up.

“Ah…right…” You forgot he could do that.

“Don’t steal money from an old lady again!” He called after you, teasingly.

You simply flipped him off as you left, not looking at him.

When you returned, more bags than last time with more than just food this time you saw him still looking at that damn laptop watching something.

You could hear the yelling and brutal sounds coming from the device. You set the bags down on the table.

“What are you watching?” You rounded the table to his side to look. There you could see videos of Endeavour fighting off villains, his flames taking up a majority of the screen.

“Oh…why are you watching that? I would assume he’s the last person you’d want to see right now.” You walked back over to the bags and shuffled through them.

“I’m studying his moves. He never saw what I could do, so I’m going to show him I’m better than his precious favourite. That I can be just as powerful as him.” He growled as he stood back and set his arm on fire.

“Ah. Well you can do that later. Eat first.” You muttered. You pulled out two cup noodles like he requested. You had more for later too.

“Steal more money from an old lady?” He smirked as he grabbed one of the cups.

“No.” You mocked. “…it was a salary man.” You smirked. That got him to let out a loud laugh and shake his head.

You opened your cup noodle and dumped the powder packet in then grabbed one of the water bottles you bought and opened it, pouring some water up to the fill line then handed the bottle to the white haired boy to do the same.

He grabbed yours first and held it with both hands wrapped around it. “Sure you won’t burn the whole thing?” You teased.

“Shut up. I’ve done this before.” He hissed as he concentrated on getting the temperature right. You watched in awe as steam started to steadily rise from the cup.

He put yours down and you placed your wooden disposable chopsticks down on the lid to keep the steam in.

“It’s not boiling but it’s hot enough. You just have to wait a little longer.” He explained as he did the same to his cup.

“Fine by me. I’m just glad to have a hot meal.”

When you both finished your noodles you both had some broth left over. Which made you ask him, “Do you think you can cook eggs with your quirk?”

“What?” He looked at you, puzzled. “I mean…I dunno…I never really tried but…probably. Why?”

You stood up and walked back over to the table and fished around in one of the bags and pulled out a small container of two eggs and walked back over to him and sat back down.

“There’s this hack I learned where you can make a sort of egg soufflé with the remaining broth from cup noodles so you don’t have to dump it out.” You explained as you took an egg out and cracked it into your cup. “You’re supposed to microwave it but we obviously don’t have that option right now.” You whisked the egg up into the broth with your chopsticks.

You traded your cup for his and watched as he repeated the same thing he did to cook the noodles. You could both see the egg starting to cook along the sides and you both exclaimed in joy.

“This way we can get more protein.” You cracked and whisked the remaining egg into his cup.

It took longer but he managed to cook the egg enough to your liking so you switched back and he started on his cup. You had to let yours sit for a while to cool down so you both made small talk.

When you were both finally finished eating, your friend wanted to practice his quirk so you sat near by and watched.

He punched his fist out and orange flames burst around his hand and up his arm. He lift his hand and you watched as the golden flames changed into beautiful blue waves of heat.

“Woah…” you gasped. It made him smirk.

“Cool, huh?” He gloated cockily.

“I’ve never seen anyone have blue flames before. Does it hurt?” You questioned.

“Not as much as before. That guy said my sense of pain has been nullified and I can definitely tell.” He responded as he looked at his arm.

You scoffed at the mention of that asshole.

He turned off his quirk and looked at you. “Who was he by the way? Why did he only speak through a computer?”

“Fuck if I know. He was always communicating through that thing. Never bothered to show up even though he owned and created the damn place.” You seethed. “He was called the House Master. You couldn’t call him anything else, I swear it had to be some kind of ego boost or fetish.”

“He never showed his face?” He asked.

“No. Not while I was there…but I did get a glimpse of him once when he approached my parents about boarding me there.” You picked at your nails.

“You said that it was a place for kids with powerful quirks…what is your quirk? It must be insane if you were asked to be one of the first students.” He realized he never actually asked what your quirk is before.

You stood up and walked towards him and stood a few feet away. You gestured for him to activate his quirk.

He lifted his arm as orange flames burst through once again. You lifted your hand towards his flames and soon they reached towards your hand away from him. You moved your hand around and made the flames dance around in the air. You brought your hand behind you and the flames followed, jumping to your other hand behind your back and following in front, bringing them in front of your face and letting it sizzle out leaving little sparks, revealing his shocked face.

“Woah.” He was in awe.

“It’s called Elemental Manipulation. I can manipulate and maneuver any element I want. There are limitations though. I can use it on any element found on the periodic table, meaning it’s basically unstoppable considering everything in the universe is made up of something. However, I can’t use it on living being like plants, animals or people, and I can only manipulate something if I understand it’s elemental makeup. Water for example is two hydrogen and an oxygen. So I can pull hydrogen and oxygen from the air and combine them to make water, but it takes a lot of energy and time. Fire is a little trickier though since it’s primarily oxygen. I actually can’t create the elements myself, meaning I can’t produce fire like you, cause while oxygen helps fire spread, you still need a heat source and fuel to really start it. It’s easier for me to just move already existing elements than create it. But you can see how dangerous it can be if worked on enough.” You explained.

“Wow…that’s…really awesome.”

You shrugged.

You spent the next few hours watching him train, giving him suggestions every once in a while and making him take breaks if he looked like he was over exerting himself.

The day went by quickly and soon you both found yourself laying next to each other in silence, sometimes chatting about something the other thought of, but you were both content just laying there.

“I think I found a good name.” He broke the silence.

“Oh yeah?” You answered. You were laid on your back, hands folded together and your eyes closed.

“What about Dabi?” He asked, slightly looking for your approval.

You opened your eyes and stared at the dilapidated ceiling. “Dabi…” you tried it out. You smiled and looked over at him. “I like it. Sounds cool and mysterious.”

He smiled back at you.

———————————————————————

For the following years you stayed by his side. You both met Giran and he took you both in for a while. You helped staple his peeling skin and scolded him every time you noticed his scars spreading. You helped dye his hair black. You even helped give him his nose piercings, and you were there when he joined the League of Villains, consequently, joining yourself.

You grew yourself, too. You got better at using your quirk, still not to its full potential, but much easier to handle than when you were younger. You helped fight for Shigaraki’s cause, although you would always keep your entire loyalty to Dabi.

You both found comfort in each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why you agreed to help him when he asked you for a specific favour.

“You ready?” You asked as you stood over the shirtless man, sat on the couch. You softly cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumb.

“I’ve been waiting for this for years. Of course I’m ready.” He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips on the back of it as he made eye contact with you. His eyes still as blue as the day you first saw them.

You smiled and went over to the video camera that was pointed towards him. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers pressed together in front of his face.

“Go.” You whispered.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He looked into the camera through his fingers.

“My name…is Touya Todoroki.”

[gyorouis]

── ✦ december.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ synopsis⸝⸝ wrap me all up and take me home with you

꒰ genre⸝⸝ romance, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn pairing⸝⸝ jock!taehyun x afab!reader wc⸝⸝ 1.4k warning⸝⸝ mutual pinning, suggestive theme, they‘re both competitive, my never-ending ETL tyun agena tune in⸝⸝ ariana grande — december ୨ৎ ꒱

“don’t tell me you’re planning to charm the entire room tonight,” beomgyu teased, nudging taehyun as they stepped into the grand ballroom.

the university’s annual winter gala was in full swing, the grand ballroom alive with the soft glow of chandeliers and the hum of conversations layered over upbeat music. students mingled in their best attire, and taehyun, ever the picture of perfection, was in his element. as the captain of the football team and the campus golden boy, he had an image to maintain: polished, composed, and entirely unbothered.

adjusting his tie with a practiced nonchalance, he surveyed the scene. the decorations were immaculate (because, of course, he’d overseen them), and everything was running smoothly. it was the kind of night that should’ve been effortless for him—another event to cement his status as untouchable.

and then, he saw you.

you were standing by the dessert table, laughing with your friends, your eyes bright and your smile infectious. you weren’t just pretty—you were radiant, the kind of radiant that made the air shift. the sight of you knocked the wind out of his carefully crafted cool.

taehyun’s jaw tightened. he wasn’t new to seeing you. as the captain of the cheer dance team, you were his rival in more ways than one. your rivalry was campus legend: the cheer squad versus the football team, each determined to outshine the other at every game and event. but tonight, something about you felt different. you weren’t just his rival anymore—you were a distraction, a complication he hadn’t prepared for.

still, taehyun wasn’t one to back down.

he approached you with the same swagger that made half the campus swoon, his voice dripping with that signature competitive edge. “well, well,” he drawled, “didn’t think you’d show up. thought you’d be too busy choreographing another routine to one-up us.”

you turned to face him, arching an eyebrow, and he swore the room tilted for a second. “and miss a chance to see you strut around like you own the place? never.”

his lips curved into a smirk, the kind that usually had people eating out of his hand. “funny. i was about to say the same thing about you.”

“cute,” you shot back, taking a deliberate sip of your drink. “but don’t flatter yourself, taehyun. not everything’s about you.”

“sure it’s not,” he teased, leaning casually against the table, his eyes never leaving yours. “so, who dragged you here? or did you actually want to come?”

you crossed your arms, the movement drawing his attention in ways he didn’t want to admit. “not that it’s any of your business, but i’m here because i earned it. unlike you, i don’t need a title to prove my worth.”

his grin widened, the playful challenge in your tone sparking something dangerous in him. “ouch,” he said, clutching his chest in mock pain. “you’ve been saving that one, haven’t you?”

“maybe,” you said, the corners of your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

as the night went on, it seemed like fate—or maybe something more deliberate—kept throwing the two of you together.

“you’re following me,” you accused after the third time your paths crossed.

“hardly,” he replied, his expression all mock innocence. “this is my event, remember? you’re just conveniently always in my way.”

“oh, please. i was here first.”

he tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “you were here first? wow. didn’t know they gave awards for that.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

later, you found yourself on the balcony, escaping the noise and the heat of the ballroom. the december air was sharp against your skin, but the quiet was worth it.

you weren’t alone for long.

“escaping already?”

you turned to see taehyun leaning against the doorway, his blazer draped over one shoulder. the way the cold moonlight caught on the sharp lines of his face made your breath hitch, though you’d die before admitting it.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice more tired than hostile.

“nothing,” he said, stepping closer, his footsteps soft against the stone. “just figured you’d be out here. you always seem to need a breather after a big event.”

you frowned, caught off guard. “how do you even know that?”

he shrugged, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “i pay attention.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

you turned back to the railing, your grip tightening against the cold metal. “so what? you came out here to gloat?”

“no,” he said simply, leaning beside you. his shoulder brushed yours, and the contact sent an uninvited shiver down your spine. “i came out here because... well, it’s not every day i get to see you like this.”

“like what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“like... stunning,” he admitted, the word barely above a whisper.

your heart skipped, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” he said, his tone soft but sure.

the mistletoe was an accident.

you were brushing past him on your way back into the ballroom when someone shouted, “hey, mistletoe alert!”

you froze, as did he, both of you glancing up at the offending sprig of green hanging above your heads.

“seriously?” you muttered, already feeling the heat of the crowd’s eyes on you.

taehyun’s smirk returned, but there was something else in his gaze now, something deeper. “rules are rules,” he said, his voice lower than usual.

“you’re insufferable,” you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual venom.

“and yet, here we are,” he replied, stepping closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. it was heat and tension and something unspoken that neither of you had the courage to name. his lips were soft but firm, and when he pulled back, his eyes lingered on yours, dark and unreadable.

“merry christmas,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart raced, your pulse pounding in your ears. “don’t think this means you’ve won,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

“oh, i know,” he said, his grin returning, though softer now. “but it’s a good start.”

gyo's note: just my never ending enemies to lovers agenda on tyun 🤓 hahahaha i just LOVEEEE tyun on ETL trope sm! and it shows on the stories i wrote for him eheee, anyway if you made it this far, thank you! (,,>﹏<,,) you will be loved, xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[fandom-lover2]

So This Is Christmas

Miko brings Christmas to the base

Word Count - 2395

AN: Merry Christmas!

“Miko, what is that?”

I glanced over lazily to the Groundbridge. Bulkhead and his charge had just stepped through the swirling green marvel of science, and said Cybertronian was, for reasons I was sure we were about to discover, holding a tree.

It was comically small, held by two of his digits like a bushy toothpick. The pine, it appeared to be, still had its roots attached and was losing soil with every step the green titan took.

“A Christmas tree, duh.” Miko answered Jack, like he was an idiot.

To be fair, he often times was. But I also wouldn’t have guessed that either so.

I pulled the lolly pop from my mouth. “Why the hell did you bring it here?”

“Dudes!” Miko exclaimed, spreading her hands out and looking at us like we were the bane of her existence. “It’s Christmas! We have to get into the spirit.”

“Halloween was yesterday.” Raf answered, not looking away from the TV, he and Bumblebee deep into a new video game he got for his birthday.

“And we don’t have anything to decorate it with.” Jack added.

“It’ll be dead by Christmas.” I ended, putting the candy ball back in my mouth.

“You all suck.” Despite that, she still continued up the stairs towards us.

Bulkhead was still holding the tree, looking extremely uncomfortable as he tried to not jostle it too much.

“You can put it down Bulk.” I gestured to a spot in the corner of the base, getting comfortable in my seat again.

“What is wrong with you?” Miko started, marching over to us humans. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon. We gotta get this place ready.”

“For who, Santa?” Jack teased, and Raf snickered. I rolled my eyes at them, looking down at my book again.

“Miko, Raf is flying to Mexico for Christmas, Jack’s mom has the day off and I’m going to Texas. No one is gonna be here to celebrate with-”

I cut myself off, the realization slapping me in the face.

Miko was alone for Christmas. Yes, sure she had her host parents, but they weren’t family. I didn’t even know if they celebrated the holiday. They definitely wouldn’t let her pull a 10 foot tree from Canada and stick it in the living room.

I didn’t know what the Japanese traditions for Christmas were, but I understood the seasonal depression that came with this time of year, especially when you were away from family for it. Even in sunny Nevada, it had nothing to do with the weather bringing down people’s moods.

We were her family. And Primus help us all, we would support her.

Snapping my book shut, I stood up with an unnecessary grunt and placed my half sucked lolly pop back in it’s wrapper. “Alright Meeks, you’re right. It’s gonna be Christmas soon and this place is huge. We gotta get started somewhere.”

I wouldn’t trade anything for the memory of how her eyes lit up.

“Why are you on board?” Jack questioned, side eyeing me as if I’d grown a second head.

“Because I’m not The Grinch.” I shot back, beginning down the stairs behind Miko.

It took about an hour and back-up from Bulkhead but we finally had the tree somewhat standing off to the side of the base, its roots messily sawn off and balancing inside an old empty energon cube, desert sand keeping it lopsidedly upright.

“We’ll have to get some ornaments.” I said, taking a couple steps back to size up the challenge.

“Can I make some?” Miko pleaded.

I shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I have enough at my house to cover the whole tree.” Jack chimed in, coming to stand beside us.

“Nice of you to join us after the work is done.” I mumbled to him. “I can bring some from my place to. We don’t decorate anymore.”

“I’m sure I can find some too.” Raf spoke up, having walked with Jack.

The four of us stood, admiring our bare tree when Optimus and Ratchet walked into the main area, both deep in conversation as they read over the data pads in their servos.

“What is that?” Ratchet quired, stopping abruptly.

“Christmas tree.” Raf answered.

“Naked Christmas tree.” Jack added.

“And why is in here?” The medic asked, the disgust dripping from his tone. I could imagine the lecture incoming.

“These humans have no respect, turning this base into a junk yard with all their scrap and human nonsense!”

Had to hand it to Optimus, he did a pretty good job of handling the grumpy bot most days. But once this tree started losing pine needles everywhere, not even he would be able to get Ratchet to chill.

“We’re trying to get into the Christmas spirit.” I supplied.

“What’s Christmas?” Arcee asked, having just emerged from the tunnels as well, having been on inventory duty this morning.

“An old fat guy dressed in red breaks into your house and leaves presents or coal, depending on if you’ve been good or bad.” Jack helpfully explained.

The look of horror on each bot’s face was pure comedy and I was sad I didn’t been filming it.

“And that tree allows him to break in?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Kinda. It tells him we want him to.” Raf pushed his glasses on his nose up again.

“Why would you want him to break in?” We’d finally done it. We had Ratchet questioning our sanity for real.

“Duh! Presents!” Miko smirked at the medic, and I briefly wondered if I’d need to warn her to duck.

I glanced over to Optimus and he was visibly going through a crisis. I guess confessing that we were trying to get someone to break into his super secure base would do that to a team leader.

“We’re just kidding.” I decided to finally intercept. “It’s not real. Those are just stories based on an old legend. Really, we decorate a tree and then exchange gifts. It’s just a time to spend with family and friends, to prepare for winter and bring some joy before the hard months ahead.”

This seemed to relax the bots a bit.

Bumblebee spoke, though I did not understand him.

“Right Bee, it’s just a story. Santa won’t actually break in.” Raf answered the scout.

“Why would you have such a story then?” Ratchet snapped, moving to his work station.

“Human nonsense” was pissing him off again. He should expect this stuff from us by now. Just trying to get through Halloween last week had been a mission. You’d think for his own sanity he’d just accept humans were weird.

“Tradition. Legends. Something to keep the magic alive and keep kids full of wonder and innocence.”

To humans, those notions made sense. To him, it was just a cruel trick of sugarcoating the hard truths because the adults didn’t have the guts to tell it how it was.

“It’s a waste of time.” he grumbled, turning his focus onto his consol.

“We haven’t even begun…”

Jack’s warning had him turning back to us with a raised brow.

------

“Y/n.”

I hummed in reply to Optimus, continuing to look out his passenger side window at the desert night rolling past. Optimus was decided he’d drive me home tonight, rather than me catching a ride with one of the others like usual.

“Are you certain that this… tree will not invite anyone to attempt to enter the base?” The Autobot leader questioned, sounding unsure of himself as he asked this.

I fought the smile, turning in my seat to look at his rearview mirror, which he turned towards me as his way of ‘looking’ at me in this form.

“I promise you Optimus. The tree is just a tradition. Nothing and no one is going to be invited by a lit up tree and try to get in.”

“If you are sure.” The Prime replied.

It was silent for a few more minutes, but I could feel Optimus burning to question me on it.

“Many cultures have different origins of Christmas, how it started, what it means. For the most part nowadays it’s just a holiday where people eat good food with friends and family and exchange gifts as a form of expressing gratitude for the love and support shown during the year. The decorating is just part of the deal, getting everyone in the mood to celebrate.”

I could feel Optimus thinking over what I’d said, making it make sense in his mind as he turned what I’d said into Cybertronian terms and trying to match it to any customs he’d had on his home planet. Apparently he came up empty because he didn’t mention any.

“So, Christmas is a time of leisure?” he questioned finally, summarizing what I’d said.

“Yes. A time to relax and look back at the year passed. One final big holiday to give us a push to make it to the end of year before we begin the new one in January.”

Optimus was quiet for a while, only the steady rumble of his engine and his tires rolling across the road to let me know he was still awake.

“Can you describe more about Christmas?” he finally asked.

Still a data clerk at heart, I smiled.

I began telling Optimus all I knew, what traditions from different cultures I could remember, how my family did the holiday as opposed to other families I’d heard of. I chose to not comment when I noticed Optimus was taking the long long way to my house, wanting me to keep talking as long as possible. I would have stayed up all night talking to him if that’s what he wanted.

Finally, after he’d spent an hour aimlessly driving through town, he pulled to a stop at my house.

“And that’s Christmas.” I ended, taking a deep breath.

Optimus remained quiet for a few moments, then released a deep hum, as if I’d dropped some deep wisdom on him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” I leaned over and opened his door, preparing to jump down. “It’s still almost two months away.”

“Plenty of time for Miko to cause all kinds of trouble.”

My laughter echoed down the street as my feet hit the side walk. “Goodnight, Optimus.”

“Goodnight, Little One.”

------

“Merry Christmas!” the four of us cheered, all pulling at the same time.

Four snaps, and four Christmas crackers popped open. We all laughed, opening up our obnoxiously colored cardboard cylinders. We put on the tacky crowns, Raf removing his Santa hat and Miko taking off her antler headband. Jack was wearing tacky plastic glasses with little Santa hats on them. I had an elf’s hat on, and took it off in favor of the crown.

We each wore knitted Christmas sweaters, hand made as a gift from Raf’s mom for ‘his good friends’.

All around us, the base looked like Rudolph threw up. Lights, streamers, tinsel and garland. Who knew Agent Fowler was such a Christmas fanatic?

After he found out about the tree, he’d dropped off crates of supplies. It’d taken hours, and I thought at one point Ratchet might actually act on his threats of violence, but in the end the base was nicely illuminated for the holiday.

Our tree was, to my surprise, still alive and now on the catwalks, lit up and with a crudely drawn (curtesy of Miko) Starscream as the tree topper.

Four different households, plus the military contribution, made up the ornaments. It looked good, if you liked complete and utter chaos. But it had been a fun day decorating it. Optimus had even helped hang a ball or two, lifting Miko so she could place her Star(scream).

Now, the last weekend we had together before Raf and I were set to fly Tuesday, we were having a sleepover and having an early Christmas.

We each took a turn to read the bad jokes, trying not to laugh at how bad they were. Then, we moved on to the games that came with them. And then, dinner.

Mrs. Esquivel and Nurse Darby had provided most of the meal, both happy to contribute to our good time. Agent Fowler had stopped by earlier today to play Santa (yes, he wore the red suit and fake beard and everything. Bulkhead almost swung at the poor guy. Apparently, he’d been having nightmares about Santa coming into the base and leaving coal at his berthroom door) and dropped off enough desserts and treats to last us a lifetime.

The meal was accompanied by laughter, and shared stories of previous failed Christmas stories from different families. The bots stood around, some actually paying attention and asking questions, one pretending he wasn’t.

And finally, to the gift exchange. Somehow, all four of us had gotten stuff for the bots, without actually discussing whether or not we would. Most of them were impractical, and useless (why would Ratchet even want an air freshener Miko?) but they nonetheless showed appreciation, and actually seemed to really enjoy the gifts. Optimus in particular seemed pleased with the mythology and holiday traditions book I got him, questioning when we could begin reading it together.

Miko had gotten Bulk a new CD for their favorite band so they could rock out together. Jack got new, better helmet, so he and Arcee could “go faster”, like they didn’t already. Raf got Bee a poster of a video game they both played often.

The gifts us humans got for each other were stupid, nothing of value or anything we could actually use, but it was fun and they became prized possessions.

After hours of screwing around with our new gifts and playing some Christmas games, I made the popcorn while Jack got the lights and we all cuddled under the blankets, settling in for Home Alone with all the bots seated behind us and invested in the movie.

Slowly, one by one, everyone began to drift off or sneak away to their berthrooms. I could feel the pull of sleep and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with Jack on my left shoulder and Raf’s head in my lap.

Then, a gentle servo reached over and caressed my forehead. “Sleep, Little One.”

I looked over to my guardian, a dopey grin on my face. “Goodnight Optimus. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  

[jenosonlywife23]

Title: Breaking Point a/n; sequel to almost

The words hung in the air, jagged and cruel, long after you threw them. You hadn't meant to snap, but Jeno had this way of pushing you to the edge, of standing so close to what you wanted but never giving it to you. And tonight, after weeks of silent yearning and half-truths, you finally broke.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" Your voice trembled, a sharp edge to your tone. You didn’t bother to hide the way your hands shook.

Jeno froze mid-step, his hoodie halfway unzipped as he turned to look at you, confusion furrowing his brow. "Doing what?" he asked, too casually for the storm brewing between you.

"This!" you exploded, gesturing wildly at the space between you. "Coming here, acting like you—like we—mean something, and then leaving like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing."

He flinched, the impact of your words visible in the tightening of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffened. "That’s not fair," he said quietly.

"Isn’t it?" You took a step closer, your chest heaving as the anger poured out of you, the frustration and heartbreak you’d swallowed down for months finally bubbling to the surface. "You keep me here, Jeno. Right here." You pointed to a spot inches from his chest. "Close enough to hope, but not close enough to hold. Do you even care what that does to me?"

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, he stepped forward, the distance between you evaporating in a heartbeat.

"You think this doesn’t kill me, too?" he snapped, his voice low and rough. "You think I don’t lie awake at night, wondering if I should just tell you—if I should risk ruining the one good thing in my life because I’m too scared you’ll walk away if I ask for more?"

You blinked, his words hitting like a punch to the chest. "Then why don’t you?"

"Because I don’t want to lose you!" he shouted, his voice breaking at the end. The rawness in his tone made your breath hitch. "Because if I ask for too much, if I mess this up, I don’t know how I’d survive without you."

The air between you felt electric, your emotions sparking off each other in a way that felt both dangerous and inevitable.

"Jeno…" Your voice cracked, softer now, your anger bleeding into something warmer, heavier. "I’m already yours. You just never claimed me."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with your words. Then, as if something inside him snapped, he reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you close.

"Say that again," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips, his voice desperate.

"I’m yours," you repeated, the truth of it unraveling something deep inside you. "I’ve always been yours, Jeno."

He kissed you then—fierce, messy, and full of every unsaid word, every buried feeling that had built between you. It wasn’t gentle or perfect, but it was real, and it was enough to leave you breathless.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a whisper. "You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that."

"Then don’t make me wait anymore," you said softly, your hands clutching the fabric of his hoodie like it was the only thing tethering you to reality.

"I won’t," he promised, his voice steady now. "I’m done running from this. From us."