#so I'll just stack them up and pretend you all *get* it

[delayeddrabbles]

LAST CALL (obx post s3) request

concept: Rafe is waiting around while Sofia and her male coworker are packing up. Sofia’s coworker is teasing her about Rafe always hanging around, picking her up after work, never leaving the bar to sit elsewhere. Rafe takes the giggling and shoving to be flirting and sulks in the car, mumbling something about how she should be more careful, especially if customers treat her that same way when he’s not around. Sofia is furious, and this forces them to discuss being exclusive.

a/n: I've resurrected my writing blog again. This one-shot is long at about 4k words, and the dividers belong to @omi-resources. possessiveness, jealousy, emotional immaturity, and some toxic behaviour. swearing. sexual references. No smut. proofed by @araybiaaa @lostsyren @cherubfille

Sofia can feel the chill of this lingering distance between them even after all these months. It's in how Rafe always keeps her at arm's length. No closer, no further. He's never fully relaxed. He's never quite affectionate enough. It takes him weeks to even want to sleep and cuddle. 

She's a guest in his house, never truly a part of the furniture. He'll play the gracious host, fetching her a towel or making her tea, but it begins to grate on her. The more months roll by, the more uncertain she gets about where they stand. 

She knows where he keeps his favourite cereal bowl, his Dyson, and the spare batteries. She could walk the length of his new home blindfolded, but he still seems to see her as something set apart. Something distinct. Foreign. She's not a part of his life but simply passing through. There’s no point getting comfortable. That's why it bothers her so much when he dares to step into hers. 

It happens one late spring Saturday evening. Rafe arrives, as always, for the last hour of her shift and slowly nurses a drink at the bar till she's done, pacing himself just enough to get a buzz but still drive them home.

He keeps to himself, shoulders tense, eyes down, ring tapping on the bar. At first, she thought it was simply shyness, but tonight she noticed how he turns his back when old school friends walk by or pretends he's heading out soon when his fellow developers offer a seat at their table.  The Kook from his drunken summer afternoons with the boys is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he shrinks, he’s awkward, loitering like a kid waiting for their mom to finish talking so they can leave. A familiar, unnerving twist tangles in her gut. 

Not again.

"Trouble in Paradise?" Greg drags her attention away from Rafe and back to stacking chairs.

"Something like that," Sofia murmured as she shook the tension out of her cheeks, relaxed her brows, and pushed herself back into packing up. The sooner she’s done, the sooner Greg can mop. The sooner they’re done, the sooner she could sink into a deep, hot bath in Rafe's beautiful, luxurious tub and shake off this day. 

Rafe isn’t Colin. He’s not going to hide you from his friends. There’s nothing to worry about. 

"Don't worry," Greg shimmied closer with a boyish grin and glimmering green eyes as his voice dropped to a cheeky whisper. "He's into you." 

A bolt of giddy nerves shot through her, and Sofia swiped at him. A giggle tumbled from her lips as her spirits lifted. "Shut up!” Her fingers caught in the edge of his curly dark hair as she shoved that proud smirk away. She covered her hot cheeks as she pointed a warning finger at the younger server. “You know nothing, remember? You pinkie promised me!" 

"And I take pinkie promises very seriously." Greg straightens with broad shoulders, a serious, stiff upper lip, and a fake tie he pretends to fix, and Sofia can't help but laugh again. "I'll never tell a soul what I saw until you two are ready for people to know... Doesn't mean I can't have opinions."

Greg had unfortunately been the first victim of Rafe’s unique ability to talk Sofia into reckless behaviour. He'd stumbled in on them during one of the many cocktail parties at the club in the coat closet Sofia had been supposed to be manning. They’d calmed him down and sworn him to secrecy. Rafe had wanted to offer him a Benjamin before Sofia had shot that down. 

"What opinions?" Sofia squints at Greg, fighting the blush and grin that threaten to flood her face. It was a relief to finally get to talk about Rafe to someone. To gush and giggle and gossip. 

"Well..." Greg fully sets aside the mop now to give the matter his full attention, propping a foot up on the wooden chair between them so he can lean down to her level. " I think you've got him whipped."

"I do not! Look at him. He won't even come and say hi!"

Greg immediately waved at a staring Rafe, who scowled and turned back to his drink. 

"Oh, he wants to eavesdrop so bad right now!"

"Don't be mean!" Sofia nudged him again.

"I'm serious! He's here every Saturday like clockwork. Every late shift you have, he picks you up, and he drops you back again. He's always here. Always hanging around. Asking to sit in your section even if it's the shit one under the porch. I’ve even seen him get distracted by you when he's here with those loser friends of his.” 

“You notice a lot.” 

“I get bored. Point being. He wants you...bad"

"I..." Sofia’s smile slowly fades as she searches the worn boards of the deck for reassurance. His words ring false in her ears. Rafe’s never that open. He’s never that obvious, at least not to her. He’ll pick and choose what he invites her to. He’ll tread so carefully. Something cold and heavy slithers through her belly. "I don't know..." she sighs with a half-hearted shrug and turns back to setting chairs up on the tables so he can clean. A weight settles in on her shoulders and cheeks again. “Maybe you’re right.”

"Well, how long has this thing been going on?" 

"Six months… give or take?"

"Then it must be serious."

"Yeah, you'd think that but...I don't know..."

It'd been a strange few months. Rafe had blown into her life like a palm frond in a storm, stumbling, jaunty, and unexpected. The first three months had whisked by before she could even comprehend them.

"It's weird… different..." Sofia couldn't quite put this unshakable dread into words. "He's different."

The sex was fun and hot, and surprisingly easy. Their time together felt natural and calm and bubbling with flirtation, like floating downstream on a hot summer’s day.

This whole thing could easily have just been chalked up to cuffing season and impending winter blues. They could've drifted apart while she was away with family for Christmas, but they didn't. They could've called it quits in the depths of January, and no one would've blamed them, but they hadn't.  Before she had really had time to process what had taken root between them, Ward had died, and all socially acceptable exit ramps for her had immediately disappeared. 

What were you supposed to do when the-person-you're-sleeping-with's parent dies? Back off? Press closer? Send flowers? How were you supposed to even grieve someone that half the town already believed was dead?

Things had shifted and deepened so sharply and swiftly. She saw him unravel when no one else did. She stayed over more and more. They kept to themselves more and more. That enclosed space, that intense amount of time together, gave her a crash course in Rafe Cameron, and now she felt dangerously close to falling for him completely. She could feel it coming, daunting and inevitable like a king tide slowly approaching. Overpowering and haunting and strangely beautiful. She'd had no chance to run. 

He had. Why hadn't he taken it? 

"Look..." Greg continued to flit around her as she worked. "Remember when you did that half day on New Year's so you could go to some stupid Kook bullshit on a boat.” 

“Yeah 

“I was restocking the glasses, and you clocked out and ran to quickly get changed?"

"I remember"

"I caught him staring at your outfit. Openly, Sofia. In public. Way before you even realized. He was all..."  Greg dramatically imitated Rafe, playing it up for dramatic effect. First, he was grouchy and sullen and standoffish. Then he pretended Rafe had drooled everywhere at the sight of her and fallen right off his stool, and Greg mimed Rafe getting a semi with a spare rag at his crotch as a tent. The ridiculousness of it caused Sofia to break down into breathless, stomach-aching laughter. "You've got nothing to-"

"Everything all good over here?" 

Sofia's heart lurched as she tried to catch her breath. The pair leapt apart, half expecting a lecture from their manager for slacking, only to find Rafe towering over them. White shirt pulled tight by his crossed arms. 

How long had he been standing there?

"Ah….” Sofia tried to respond as giggles still tremored in her voice, “Ah yeah..." Rafe was just as stern and disapproving as Steve would’ve been, but he hid his disdain behind that plastic smile and glassy, impenetrable eyes. She could see the white of his knuckles and the taut muscles in his jaw. " We’re good. Totally fine"

Those sharp eyes stayed trained on her as his jaw twitched. 

“Good.”

Slowly, he stepped between the two of them and twisted his back to shield her from Greg. The invasion of his personal space forced Greg to retreat. A rather obvious hand slid along the small of the back, and the cool half-empty glass in his hand sent goosebumps up her skin. Sofia was caught between the shiver down her spine and the anger curling in her fists. His free fingers came to rest on her hip as he ducked to press a firm, purposeful kiss on her temple. 

"We were just messing around.”

A soft, unconvinced hum vibrates against her side as Rafe shrugs and lifts his glass from her hip and over his shoulder to wave it at Greg. Once Greg takes the glass, Rafe goes straight back to paying him no mind, acting as if his presence here is no longer required. She sees his blue eyes squint to study her, try to catch her in a lie, but there's none to be found. 

"We're almost done," she tries again, knowing how immovable and stubborn he can be at the best of times, let alone when he's like...this. "Then we can go" 

Rafe mulls it over with a toss of his head and a debating pout before he quickly mutters, “I'll wait in the car," and gives her a curt nod and immediately marches straight for the parking lot.

God, the Camerons had a knack for making you feel like you were the one in the wrong! Like a kid in the principal's office. If he didn't cool off, if he was going to continue to snip and snarl, then that was his problem. She’d find her own way home. 

Being free to leave was one of the benefits of being a guest, after all. 

Once she'd finished her shift, Sofia found Rafe sitting in the car still, disappointingly, sitting in a juvenile sulking silence. She refused to play along, as he pulled out of the country club drive and sped through the balmy night to his house.

"Did you eat? Manny gave me leftovers?" She offered him a bite, between ravenous mouthfuls of roast vegetables that threatened to tumble over and stain his immaculate leather seats. 

He refused.

"Is the ice machine full? My feet are killing me!" 

A nod. 

"Can we stop to get fruit? I want smoothies in the morning." 

He quietly obeyed. 

It went on like that until they finally finished their silent shopping and settled back into the car. She finally caved, cursing under her breath before asking. "¿Ya estás?"

Are you done? Are you ready?

If he pretended not to understand her right now, she was getting out and walking home. All the way to the Cut. 

She saw him actually consider continuing his silly little game for a moment, and a surge of rage rushed through her. His blue eyes narrowed in the moonlight as he bristled, and the irritation still crackles in the air around him.

"He flirted with you..." he stated as firmly and calmly as he could, but she could still hear the restrained anger rattling on his tongue, "right in front of me...and you let him." 

"He wasn't -"  Sofia did her best to swallow her indignation. There was no point in having two hot heads in this car. 

"I'm not an idiot. He was laughing and...and strutting around! He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knows we're -" Rafe tripped on his own words and straight into the very conversation he'd been avoiding for months. 

"We're what, hm?" Sofia swung around on him instantly with tight arms folded across her chest. Rafe's mouth slammed shut. "He did nothing wrong, and you were a dick to him! Shoving your drink in his face like some servant." 

"That's his job!" 

"No! He's a bus boy who wipes tables and scrubs floors!” Perhaps she wasn’t going to be able to be the calm one this time. “You wanna wave your drink at anyone? Then do it at me. That's what I am. That's my job! Or did you forget who you’re dealing with?" 

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"God, you completely blanked him..."

"He pissed me off!" 

"He wasn't even talking to you!" 

"Yeah...” He muttered darkly, turning up the AC and tugging at the front of his shirt that no doubt was trapping hot, humid air against his skin. “He was talking to you, and you flirted." 

Sofia’s eyes widened as they finally hit that bedrock. His mind was hurtling so quickly she could barely keep up with him, let alone untangle her own messy emotions. "I what?"

"You heard me," he bit back as he turned the car onto his street. 

"No, I didn’t!"

"Yes, you did! You touched his hair and laughed at his jokes and batted his arm all cute and eh!" he pulled a face as he mocked her movements and giggles. 

"Oh! so I can't laugh now?"

"Not when you know you're encouraging a guy’s thoughts!”

"What thoughts? That I'm single?"

" He was into you."

"I wasn't flirting, " Sofia huffed, dejected and amazed, flopping back against her seat again. She shifted to stare out the window as the car wound through the bends of the long coastal road, whizzing past rows upon rows of tall hedges and camera-adorned fences.  Maybe she was too low. Maybe she didn't belong. They turned around the last bend before his house as she finally broke the silence. "What's the time?" 

"What?" 

"What's. The. Time?" 

"1:30,” Rafe answered as he pulled into the drive and turned to wind down his window. 

" That's too late to wake my parents..."

She felt his head whip around and heard the seat creak and the rustle of his shirt against the seatbelt.

"You want to go home? We're literally right outside!"

She turned to him and shrugged, "I know." 

"Sof..." He groaned and let his head fall into his hands. Clearly, the thought of him driving her home to the Cut was excruciating. He couldn't stand to be in the car with her for a moment longer. Maybe he wasn't the drive you to the airport kinda guy. 

A knot rose in her throat as pain welled in her chest.

"Never mind. It's fine." She grumbled and waved the idea away, "Just open the gate. I need to sleep." 

Sofia marched straight inside to fill the mop bucket Rafe's never touched with ice for her feet and strip out of her clothes for a shower. Her dream of a relaxing, elegant bath slipping from her clutches, now her mood has sunk. 

"Sof." Rafe appears in the doorway, unannounced and uninvited, and she can't help but groan in irritation. "You can't just ignore my question."

"I didn't hear a question. I heard an accusation," she snipped, slipping out of her white polo and socks. 

"I know what I saw." He dug his heels yet again, and Sofia sighed and kicked off her teal shorts to stand tall and straight and meet his eye.

She stood there, bare and cold in her underwear and it got no reaction from him. No sympathy. No attraction. Just folded arms and hard grey eyes.

"If you're so sure you know what happened, then why are you even asking me?" She shrugged, letting her hands slap against her thighs as they fell. " You made a scene at my place of work. You came in, throwing your weight around like some caveman chasing off my friend. You've made your point. I'm yours, and everybody knows it! What? Now you want me to admit that i'm a cheat too?"

"Flirting isn’t-"

" It is to me! So don't throw that word around like that. And you wouldn't be so mad if it didn't mean something to you, too. I can't both yours and not yours at the same time! You can't have it both ways. " She sees his retort die on his tongue and she sighs and turns on the water "Now, I'm going to take this shower and ice my feet because I've just come off a massive shift which you don't seem to give a shit about and then when I'm not tired and sore and gross anymore then maybe we can talk. Ok?" 

"Fine"

Wearing his shirt felt like giving him a win. Why had she been stupid enough to concede that he'd successfully marked his territory? Admitting he had some kind of claim on her felt like letting him justify his actions.

However, the worn Led Zeppelin shirt currently folded under her pillow still called to her, in spite of herself. The shirt was a ratty old thing covered in bubbling fabric and holes at the seams where he'd grown too fast too quickly. It was a poorly chosen gift from Rose to impress a boy who was deep in his rap and dubstep era and wouldn't like rock for at least another five years.

Sofia had rescued it from his donations box during the move and clung to it ever since. It was soft and loose and made her feel like her old Pogue self again, wandering through record stores and thrift shops and squeezing every last use out of everything she owned.  Somehow between the gifts and the mansions she could feel that girl fading.

Sofia slid the faded black shirt on and padded gently down the stairs towards the distant sound of banging and the glow of the kitchen light spilling into the hall.

She finds him surrounded by an explosion of mismatched Tupperware scattered across the white stone countertop and the designer wood and resin chopping boards covered with messily cut uneven slices of fruit. 

She leans against the doorway for a moment to take in the view. The boy who was waited on hand and foot his whole life is standing in his kitchen at 2:00 am, cutting her fruit. Meal prep and school lunches weren't exactly in his vocabulary. The sight brings a soft smile to her face and warms her heart. A soft peace washes over her.

"I needed to clear my head," he explained, feeling her watching. He's quick to cover the gesture up in practicality and selfishness. 

"Here..." she quickly crosses the kitchen to reach around him and help him repack the banana properly. "This'll brown if you don't..."

“Just let me do it…”

“No, it’s fine. I can help!”

"Stop!" The clatter of the knife slamming down onto the stone startled her. Sofia stumbled back as he turned on her with a heavy, heated sigh. Like she's a nagging wife he can't shake. "God! Can you just not correct me for one second! Fuck...."

She flinched at that curse, her fingers stuck in rigid, tight claws, and her heart pounding. Hot shame quickly melted the cold panic. "I... I didn't..."

His eyes run down over the shirt, and it somehow angers him further. Ok, so the fruit wasn't the white flag she'd thought it was. They were still very much at war. 

"This whole night, you've been acting like I'm always wrong. Like I’m crazy! Like I'm seeing things that aren't there…" 

Shaken by his outburst, Sofia fumbles for her words, a knot lodged in her throat, and tears pricking her eyes. Her voice is barely a whisper, "I... I don't think you're crazy." 

"Yeah, well, everyone else does! " He gestures to the window with an erratic, forceful hand and suddenly surges forward. "You took his side!" There's a crack of pain in his voice.  "He was hitting on you, and you just laughed!"

"Hey!" She captured his flailing wrist and pulled it tightly against his side. "Hey...” She softened her voice and loosened her grip. “I'm sorry…I'm sorry.” She lifted onto her tiptoes and pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened at first, but she held firm. “I...." Her eyes search the room for the right words to soothe him as her calves begin to ache. "I didn't mean to make you feel like this. " She gently rubbed his back, and slowly she felt his muscles unwind and his weight rest against her as she sank back down onto her heels, and he folded with her. "It was just a stupid joke. He was being an idiot and making fun of you, and I should've stopped him, and I didn't, and I’m sorry for that. It wasn't flirting. It was...he was cheering me up." 

"He was making fun of me?" 

"Yeah...I felt weird about... this. You and me. And...and so he was trying to convince me that I had nothing to worry about.”

“You were worried?”

“Yeah..." she pulled back just enough to lift his gaze to hers "We never talk about us, Rafe. We just carry on like this is normal. Like nothing needs to be said."

"What would need to be said? You know everything."

“I don’t. We’ve been coasting, baby. You’ve had a lot going on, and I get that, and it’s fine, but this thing with me won’t just iron itself out on its own. We actually have to talk about it.”

“Do we have a problem?”

“No…” she smiled endearingly at the confused look on his face as she stroked his cheeks. “The opposite. I'm not saying I want to break up. I"m saying i want to stay. I want this to work.

"You know I'm not good at this shit…" he ducked his head in shame, mumbling that admission.

“I know, but I need you to tell me what you’re thinking…Try that at least…”

"Ah ...yeah, I mean. It’s been bothering me… I thought I could just wait it out. Follow your lead but then that asshole kid-" she perched a chiding brow and he pulled himself back from the grumbling rant he wanted to slip into. His eyes lifted back to hers again. "I want this. We’ve gotten through some gnarly shit together and you haven’t quit yet, even when you probably should’ve...”

“Rafe…”

“But I can't-... That’s all I can really say right now. Promising any more than that it-...I want you here. Now. And there’s no one else in the picture.”

Sofia had braced herself for a holding response. For him to kick the conversation down the road another few months. She hadn't prepared herself for him to jump straight to exclusivity without her having to probe him. It caught her off guard, provoking a flip in her stomach.

“No one else?" she stammers fighting a beam that wants to burst forth on her flips.

Rafe ducked his head for a moment, no doubt hearing the excitement in her voice, and thankfully, he eased the tension. "Nah," he shrugged, scrunching his nose with a teasing nonchalance.

Sofia laughed freely now, wiping away stray tears. Relief flooded her as she tugged him into a warm m deep kiss that he melted into. She knew she was owed a thousand apologies, for the accusations, the raised voices, the time wasting, all of it, and yet each gentle touch, each tender peck was enough. it showed in small ways, in quiet ways, that he cared. That he understood what a blessing she was in his life, and that she could leave at any moment. That her heart was fragile and precious and not to be trifled with.

"Let's get you to bed."

playlist

[mariasont]

i love your hotch x bimbo!assistant!!! they are so super, super, super cute! is it possible to see how them being domestic and in an established relationship, especially at work? ik hotch would be professional but bimbo!assistant would probably be a lovely menace hehe.

LOVELY MENACE - A.H

a/n: im so glad you all love bimbo reader as much as me ugh!!!! thank you sm for requesting--lovely menace is literally the most accurate description of her <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: bimbo!assistant reader borderline harassing hotch at work but i dont think that's a shocker

wc: 0.8k

Aaron Hotchner was nothing if not a man of routine. Arrive early, coffee black, reports stacked just so, and then never ending stacks of cases. His days were predictable, orderly. He liked it that way.

But then there was you. The one thing in his life he seemed unable to control.

The tap of your heels sounded through the bullpen as you made your daily grand entrance, as you liked to call it.

Today you were wearing a sheer blouse that, if his eyes weren’t mistaking him, shimmered under the overhead lights. That same shirt was tucked into a skirt that was just short enough to make him tense up in his chair.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to you look stunning—I mean, it was practically your default setting—but today, the whole outfit seemed to scream I don’t have time for you, I have much more important plans with much more important people.

"Morning, sir," you chirped, sounding just a touch too sweet as you approached his desk, clutching a folder you didn't even need.

His body was already on high-alert.

"Morning," Hotch said without missing a beat as he scanned the report in front of him.

You leaned against the side of the desk, making a slow show of flipping through the file in your hands. "Big day ahead?"

"Every day is a big day," he replied, not looking up.

You smiled, leaning just a bit closer, close enough that if he leaned forward even in the slightest, he knew he’d be way closer than company policy dictates to your breasts.

"You know, for someone who is secretly in love with me, you're very good at pretending you don't even like me."

Hotch paused, his pen hovering above the paper just a fraction of a second. "We're at work."

He found himself repeating this phrase to you more often than he’d like.

"I know," you said with a faux innocent shrug. "I'm just saying. You're a very convincing actor. Makes me wonder what else you're good at pretending."

He said your name, voice low enough to get your attention, without drawing the eyes of others.

"Fine, fine," you said. "I'll behave... for now."

He sighed and pressed a hand onto the paper in front of him, finally glancing up at you.

"Is there something you need, or are you just here to loiter?"

"I do not loiter," you protested. "I'm here for...." You paused, tapping your chin with a manicured finger. "What was I here for?"

"Enlighten me," he said dryly, though his mouth twitched as he talked.

"Oh! I remember!" you explained, dropping the file in your hand to his desk. "Important paperwork. It's very serious."

He glanced down at the file—empty.

You didn't seem to notice (or care) as you perched yourself on the edge of his desk, your skirt hiking up just enough to make him wish the blinds weren't open.

"So, anyway, you were saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything," he replied, picking up his pen again.

"Right, right. That's because you're so... in your head all the time," you teased, tilting your head to rest your cheek on your palm. "It's very sexy, by the way. Have I told you that recently?"

"Not at work, no."

"Well, let me fix that," you said, leaning forward like you were about to whisper some great secret. "You're very sexy, Aaron."

He blew a short breath out of his nose, hands balling into fists as he willed his blood pressure back down to a relatively normal level.

"We're at work."

There it was again. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.

"I know! That's what makes it fun."

Hotch rubbed a hand down his face. "Do you know how hard you make my job?"

"Do you know how hard you make my job?"  You countered, gesturing wildly, nearly knocking over his coffee mug. "Like, how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like that all the time? It's honestly kind of rude."

"Honey."

"Oh, don't honey me," you said, rolling your eyes dramatically. "I'm just saying you could try and be a little less..." You trailed off, waving a hand in a vague circle around his face. "You."

"You're impossible."

"And yet," you said, sliding off the desk and leaning in close enough that your perfume wrapped around him like a second skin, "you still still keep me around."

“Don’t tempt me." Hotch straightened, his chair creaking slightly as he leaned back. "You're going to get us caught."

"Caught doing what? Talking? Oh no, Agent Hotchner is talking to his very cute, very charming assistant. The horror!"

"You're flirting," he said plainly, his dark eyes locking with yours.

"Am I?" You asked, tilting your head as if you were confused. "I think I'm just being nice. If you interpret that as flirting, that's really more of a you problem."

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that you were about to wear him down. But you could also see the faint pink creep up his neck, and that was enough to make your entire day.

"Anything else?"

"Hmm," you said, pretending to think. "Oh, yeah. One more thing."

Before he could respond, you leaned down and tapped his nose with your finger, your glossed lips shifting into a smirk.

"Boop."

He blinked up at you, utterly unimpressed. "Really?"

"Really."

Hotch shook his head. "You should get back to work."

"Fine," you said, dragging out the word as you turned to leave.

But before you opened the door, you glanced back over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his.

"You know," you said. "You're really cute when you're trying to pretend you don't want to kiss me."

Your name out of his mouth was sharper this time, though his lips twitched in a way that made you feel like you hit the jackpot.

"Okay, okay, I'm going!"

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001 @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @estragos @khxna @mxriesss @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @justyourusualash

join my taglist here

[forcaleb]

thirty minutes, they said — xavier

warnings — fluff, sleepy xavier, very minor angst if you squint your eyes hard enough, xavier is just a big teddy bear who i wanna kiss and hug and- ok i'll stop

notes — oh to have a xavier hug you while you sleep :( // tags: @sydneybee @tojicide @okkotsuprince

“don’t you think you’re working too much?” xavier asks as he lies on the couch. “it’s the weekend, and you’re working?”

“sorry, xavi,” you mumble, offering a weak apology. “jenna wants these papers done by monday, and i don’t want to deal with them tomorrow.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “i don’t even understand why she needs them so early. these kinds of papers aren’t due for another week.”

xavier sits up, noticing the stress on your face. “why don’t you just talk to her? i’m sure she’ll let you relax this weekend and adjust the deadlines.”

“hey, come on. this is jenna we’re talking about,” you reply with a small laugh. “she wouldn’t change the due date even if the world was ending.” you glance at him. “good for you, though—you get to relax while I do all this.”

“yeah, but i want to relax with you,” xavier whines—a rare moment of complaint. he gets up and slumps his large frame over you, his hair falling into your eyes. “come on, just take a quick nap with me, and then i’ll help you finish your paperwork. i’ll be as fast as light!”

you burst into laughter. “xavier, i don’t think that’s how the saying goes. isn’t it supposed to be ‘as quick as lightning’?”

“whatever, same thing,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you. “come on. just thirty minutes, okay? i promise.”

you look at the stack of paperwork, noting that you only have four more pages left to review. reluctantly, you give in. standing up, you watch xavier’s face light up as he follows suit. “okay, fine! but i’m setting an alarm because i know for a fact that you’re not waking up in thirty minutes.”

xavier’s face practically sparkles with excitement (maybe it’s also his evol now that you think about it). “really? okay, great! this’ll be the best nap of your life, i promise.” wiithout wasting a second, he drags you to the bedroom, pulling you into his embrace the moment he flops onto the bed.

the comfort of the bed and xavier’s arms makes you instantly relax. “this feels good,” you hum, shifting to get comfortable. “we really need to get a new chair, though. i swear the one we have is giving me back pain.”

xavier snorts, earning a glare from you. “hey! what’s so funny?”

“back pain? you sound like a grandma,” he teases. “but i agree—the chair’s seen better days. let’s go furniture shopping tomorrow and get you a new one. maybe a table to match, too.”

“really? i think the table we have now works just fine,” you say, skeptical. “are you sure we need a new one?”

“yeah,” xavier nods. “we could get a bigger table so i can put some photo frames on it. that way, if you ever go on a mission without me—which is highly unlikely—i can look at the pictures and pretend you’re still here with me.”

“that’s… sad when you say it like that,” you remark, watching confusion flash across his face. you quickly brush it off. “never mind. forget i said anything.” a big yawn escapes you, and you snuggle deeper into his arms. “why is it that i can always fall asleep so easily when i’m with you?”

“maybe i’m just really comfortable for you,” xavier says, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it over both of you. “now sleep. i’ll wake you up in thirty minutes, i promise.”

you hum in agreement, already drifting off. xavier follows you into slumber just five minutes later.

(as expected, neither of you wakes up in thirty minutes. instead, you both wake up two hours later.)

[returnofeternity]

synopsis. the older woman who's been stalking you at work offers to leave you alone if you go to a motel with her for one night.

pairing: charlotte matthews x butch!reader (masc terms used)

warnings. legal age gap, perv/stalker!lottie, stalker relationship, smut ofc which means 18+, motel sex if that's a warning you need. character death? but that's for you to decide....

wc: 2,528

· · 𐂂 · ·

the flash of a fur coat makes your heart sink.

fuck. she's really gonna get you fired one of these days. you don't know how many times your manager has yelled at you about her. it's not even your fucking fault! you're getting stalked by this older woman and he has the nerve to yell at you? all you can really do is kick her out, so you don't know why he's so pissed every time she manages to sneak in. she doesn't even sneak in sometimes. she's bold and watches you through the windows while she pretends she's on the phone.

you have no idea why she chose you.

are you a tiny bit flattered? of course. but are you also a tiny bit scared? of course. she doesn't seem dangerous, nor has she posed any real threat to you other than scolding you when you forgot to ask her if she wanted bags that one time, but there's a motive as to why she's following you. is she planning on kidnapping you? murdering you?

just as you start thinking darker thoughts, the stack of cereal boxes you're putting away gets knocked down from beside your feet. you close your eyes and try to breathe slowly. it's been a long fuckin' day.

"i'm so sorry," the voice that calls out makes you open your eyes immediately. it's her. "i didn't see you."

bullshit, you think. it almost makes you laugh.

"you know you're not supposed to be in here." you reply, gathering the fallen boxes and sitting them back up on your opposite side. she shifts on her feet and you can't help but stare at her exposed ankles. you blink hard and crane your neck up at her where she stands before you. "don't make me call security on you."

"please, we both know they can't lay a hand on me." her tone is sarcastic and teasing, and she looks away from you to glance at a bag of cereal on the shelf and taps her fingers on it. "i wouldn't be mad if you were the one to drag me out, though."

her eyes light up at the thought of your hands touching her arms as you drag her out.

"look," you huff, getting up off the floor and to your feet. "you're gonna get me fired if you keep coming in here. my manager's pissed."

"don't worry, i wouldn't let that happen."

you furrow your brows at what she means by that but roll your eyes.

"besides, i came here to ask you something." lottie raises her hand when you go to open your mouth to tell her off, and she finds herself smiling when you obey immediately. "a trade-off."

you lean on your other foot and cross your arms, looking her up and down. you're curious. you nod for her to continue.

"come with me to my motel and i'll leave you alone forever. you have my word." she smiles at you and crosses her heart, holding your gaze with an intense stare.

forever? why are you upset about forever? and why do you not buy her obvious lie?

"and i'm just supposed to believe you? one fuck and you're just gonna walk away?" you scoff at her.

she nods and leans in some, her perfume hitting your nose and making you dizzy. lottie licks her lips and softens her eyes. "i'm gonna be going away soon. i want my last night here to be with you. making love to you. or fucking you, if that's what you want."

you make some sort of choking laugh sound at her boldness and scratch at your neck awkwardly, staring at the letters on the cereal box and trying to make up your mind.

"are you serious?" you ask, frowning when she nods. "where are you going?"

"is that a yes?" she smirks, balling up her fists excitedly.

you let out a tiny sigh and roll your eyes, smiling lightly as you nod. "yes. but it better be a nice fucking motel."

· · 𐂂 · ·

you end up giving lottie your contact information so she can call you later to pick you up. you're pretty sure she already had it though and she was just covering her ass. you've gotten too many "you looked pretty today" texts to assume otherwise. you start to regret it halfway through your shift when she won't stop blowing your phone up. you're excited when you go to check your phone for the time and see some notifications, only to find out they're all from lottie.

all 17 of them.

and lottie, who kept her word and left the lot, is patiently waiting by the motel where she said she'd uber you to. her body itches to go back and watch you through her car, but she has your security work cameras she hacked into to keep her from doing so. her fingers cradle your face through her screen as she watches on her phone, stomach bubbling with excitement as she waits for tonight.

when it's time to clock out, you wait outside the store and mumble to yourself as you check your phone for the uber lottie sent. should be here any second... you look up and sigh, gulping when you spot the car pull into the parking lot. you're so nervous and excited it feels like you're floating. nervous because you have no idea if lottie's being truthful. she could be taking you to her house to murder you and you'd have no idea. excited because you have no idea. it's a thrill.

the uber ride is silent and you thank god lottie's constantly texting you so you have something to busy yourself with. you arrive at some busy street and furrow your brows. this isn't the motel... leaning forward, you speak up to the driver. "uh, sorry, but i'm supposed to be at some motel."

he hums and swipes his finger against the map on his phone, not even doing or looking for anything. "no. this is where the drop-off location is."

you glance at your phone again, another notification from lottie popping up.

lottie: Are you here yet?

you thank the driver and get out, eyes scanning the busy crowd in search of lottie. it's so overwhelming as people push past and talk loudly next to you. you almost give up until you feel your phone buzz, looking down to see that lottie's calling you. you sigh with relief and pick up, still looking all over the place to see if you can spot her.

"where are you?" you both say.

"i'm waving. can you see me?" lottie's voice booms through the speaker and you grimace, holding it away from your ear as you look around. "i'm by some construction people."

suddenly, you see that big fur coat. you nod like she can see it and laugh at yourself before giving her a verbal answer. once you two spot each other, she smiles so big you can see it even though she's like a blob from where she is. she saunters toward you while you take your time and shuffle your feet, suddenly looking at her in a whole new light.

you're about to fuck your stalker.

and you like the thought of it.

you always thought of her as beautiful, but you couldn't stand how invasive she was. her attractiveness was offset by how often you got in trouble at work because of her, and you started resenting her a little bit. but you won't lie; a part deep inside of you always wished she would've tried something with you.

oh, if you only knew how often she'd break into your house....

she tells you that she wanted to walk with you over to the motel to spend more time with you. you find yourself endeared. she's quiet for once as you walk next to her, her fingers ever so often brushing against yours like she wants to hold your hand. her furry coat rubs against your arms as she tries to get closer, and you can't help but grin.

lottie leads you to her motel room, which by the way, is indeed a fancy as fuck place, and you shuffle inside. you look around in awe at the decoration and amount of space in here. damn, you could live here. when you turn around, lottie's got her coat off and is just in her beige dress. you flush and rake your eyes down her body, taking in the curves of her hips and the length of her long legs. your eyes snap back to her face when her legs move forward, and you slowly back up against the bed. you've nowhere to go when she corners you, and you fall back onto your ass, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. she's breathing unevenly as she stares down at you, and your eyes fall to her rising chest. her nipples are poking through her dress and your mouth opens on its own as you think about getting to see them.

"you're so handsome." lottie mumbles, her hand stroking your cheek. her thumb swipes your bottom lip, cooing when you kiss it. her index finger traces your lips and slowly slips inside your mouth. it's slender and long, and you gag a little bit when she presses her finger flat against your tongue.

she huffs with a smile and her thumb taps your chin, signaling for you to open your mouth. she takes her finger out slowly and has to close your jaw for you, and she chuckles at how stunned you are.

"have you ever been with an older woman before?" she asks, bending slightly to hike her dress up with one hand, pushing you back with another.

your mouth goes dry at the sight of her bare thighs, and you let out the most embarrassing noise as she settles on top of your lap. all you can do is shake your head no. her breath hits your face and you don't know where to look. her eyes? her lips? the freckle on her nose? you're thinking too hard. and too much. you need to loosen up.

you swallow down your nerves and touch her thighs, slipping your hands under the fabric of her dress until you grab her hips. you pull her closer, biting your lip to conceal a groan as she starts grinding on your lap. the lacy material of her panties rubs against your thigh, making your clit throb as you begin to feel how wet she's getting.

your eyes droop in hunger, your head rolling forward as you ghost your lips over hers and pant desperately. she meets you halfway and completes the kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth and clashing with yours. her hand wraps around your neck and drags you down until you're flat against the mattress, holding you down with her hips and continuing to hump against your lap.

"i want to taste you. take your clothes off for me." she whispers against your lips, hands greedily pulling at your shirt to get you to hurry in doing so. she scoots off and allows you to undress while she does the same, throwing her dress off to the side and watching you with hungry eyes as you fumble with your boxers.

it's hard to concentrate on kicking them off when lottie's glistening pussy is now in your view, her bush making your brain fully malfunction. jesus, she's perfect. you want to speak up and ask if you can taste her first as she walks toward you again, impatiently yanking the rest of your boxers off your legs, but she's settled in between your legs with her nails digging possessively into your sides before you can open your mouth.

there's a twinkle in her eyes as she peers up at you from down there, and you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't holding in a bated breath, but you hear her sniff your arousal. you're so turned on by it that you close your eyes and let out a low groan, your stomach doing flips as she leans in closer and closer until her lips attach to your needy clit.

"oh, fuck," your body melts back against the mattress at the contact, and you tangle your hands through her dark hair to push her closer. she sucks harshly before pulling away, teeth scraping lightly against your clit as she does so. "shit, lottie."

"let me have you all night? i'll pay for your ride home in the morning, just let me fuck you until you pass out." she pleads, hands kneading your stomach as she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your thigh.

· · 𐂂 · ·

when you wake up in the morning, missing lottie's touch, you reach over the stand-in lottie pillow she put in your arms before she left and grab your phone from the nightstand. you scroll through your phone's contacts until you reach her name and hover your finger over the screen. should you? you decide that, yes, you should, and press the call button, swallowing down any nerves you have.

the wait feels like forever and your stomach starts to hurt as you listen to the rings. you sit up straight when you hear a beep followed by the words, "we're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service." your heart pounds fast and your body sweats.

what the fuck? it must be a mistake.

you wipe your brow and look down at your phone, ending the call and hopping up from the bed. you call her again but it's the same message. was she actually leaving like she said she was and disconnected her phone? but why?

you look around the room for any sort of sign that she could still be here, but all her things are gone. you check the bathroom and even head down to the lobby to see if she might've gotten hungry and gone down for breakfast. she's not in either of those places. the receptionist didn't even see her leave.

you trudge back to the room, upset that you didn't even get to say goodbye. it's silly, you think. you barely even knew her other than the fact that she was stalking you for some reason, but you miss her. you're going to miss her. hell, you'll even miss her at work. at least your manager will be happy.

the room feels suffocating now that you're alone in it, and you look around once again, scanning for anything you might've missed. your eyes narrow when you notice there's a piece of paper on one of the nightstands. it's her handwriting, you know because of the pile of her letters in your drawer back at home, and it says:

i hope this will be enough for you. i've enjoyed our time together. - charlotte ꨄ

you feel another piece of paper underneath the letter, and when you reveal it, your eyes almost pop out of your head.

it's a check for fifty grand.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 3

Secret Collection [Yandere M. Hairdresser x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Not my favorite and already way behind 😭Sorry for being gone for like, a week. I got kinda sick and then had to scramble to keep up with my new classes. I should be good for now, and I'll try to work through my asks and more of the yantober prompts for now.

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove Do not Eat! MDNI! Stalking, non consensual photography, implied kidnapping, he's really weird, nsfw themes

Your hair stylist is just the best! He always knows how to keep you coming back almost every week...

1.5k words

Clover knows that what he does isn’t right.

He cuts your hair with diligent practice, every strand memorized with care and sweet tenderness. When your tresses lay by his shifting feet, it takes all within him not to cum on spot. Your scent drives him wild, and he knows that you’re the one for him after you come back a second time.

He collects your hair after he pretends to sweep it up and throw it out, rooting around the dustpan in the back of his storefront like a desperate, mangy animal. He lives just above his small, intimate salon, and he knows that if he can just get you to come up with him, that he can start getting you to fall for him. 

Discount for today only! 75% off hair dyeing, lashes, and nails! Hurry in!

He typed it out and bit his lip as he stared at his screen. There wasn’t any sale going on. Nobody but you was privy to this, of course. Months ago, when Clover first met you, he jumped on the chance to have your phone number. He rambled on and on about how it was standard for most of all his customers to punch it. You could earn points! And exclusive coupons! Of course he was just lying to you. He would just send out a few messages every week or so to try and bait you into coming back. 

Today, he was washing your hair, trying desperately to not whip out his dick and cum all over your sweet, vulnerable face. He ran his hands through your hair, massaging in shampoo and sneakily putting every stray strand of hair that caught on his fingers on a stray napkin. For later, he promises himself with a barely restrained smirk.

“[Name]...” He called softly, watching with affection as your face crinkled before you stared up at him. A shiver ran down his spine. Fuck. If he could have your eyes on him like that at all times, he could die a happy man. He finished up rinsing you off, humming under your attention. “I’m trying to earn my masseuse license… I’m thinking of expanding the services I offer,” He explained while he moved you to a sitting position and placed a towel at your neck. You blinked up at him curiously.

Yes. Just like that. Be lured in by what I can give you.

“More? But Clover,” You laughed, “You already have a lot of things you do here. Plus, it’s only you running this place most of the time,” Your voice was filled with playful ease. He bet that you wouldn’t know what he was doing even if he pressed his throbbing hard on to your lips right the second.

“I have employees, silly,” He teased, flicking a bit of water onto your face. You giggled and wiped it off. On days you had booked him, he would basically clear out his salon of any other customers or employees. He wanted it to just be the two of you, after all.

“Anyways, you know me. I’m always looking to expand my craft,” he hummed and led you over to the vanity chair, pumping up your seat so he was leaning over you jussst right. You couldn’t see the large tent in his pants in the mirror, but he sighed happily. Oh, your neck felt so delicate underneath his fingers. He could feel your pulse thrumming. He would give anything to be able to bottle that sensation and put it up in his little room dedicated to you.

Clover slips a thin paper strip around your neck before draping a cape around you. He’d definitely nick that for later. He has a whole stack of them that he likes to sniff from time to time. He hums a small tune, one he’d seen playing on your phone once, and pulls out his hair tools. With every strand that he collects in his comb, he wets his lips with anticipation. He starts up the blow dryer and watches your lips part and your face scrunch up in mild frustration as the loud noise cuts you off. How cute.

After a moment of him working, massaging his fingers into your scalp with an air of nonchalance, he cuts the offending machine and lets you speak while he trims away at your layers.

“I’m kind of jealous,” you admitted, and he couldn’t help but perk up. “You’re always working to get better, to do more,” your words stroked his ego, and he hoped that you wouldn’t take note of how flushed his face was in the mirror. You finished off with a shrug and a small smile. “I guess I just admire you…”

Clover’s heart jumped in his chest. Oh man… You had no idea. Him admirable? Would you think that still if you saw the room he had dedicated to you?

“Is that a yes to being my guinea pig, then?” He teased and leaned in so his breath fanned over your ear. You blinked for a moment and then relaxed a bit. He tried to not grin. Got you.

“Yeah sure, why not.”

He worked quickly, careful to not mess up your hair as he went along styling it to be just the way you liked. Braiding, blowouts, perms, whatever you requested, he could do it. He knew he was good at what he did, and he knew that with all the discounts he lured you in with couldn’t be beat. He was so excited, practically vibrating with joy. As he finished up, he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay! All done! Now just give me a moment to get everything ready for you,” He said and rushed upstairs, every creak of the wood igniting fire into his heart. In his arms was the hair and some objects you had touched. He wondered if you thought on his actions the way he thought about yours. 

Sometimes, he thinks, he wishes you would find out about how much he loves you. He’s not delusional, but by god does he wish he was. That way he could at least pretend that you would be okay with all of this. He quickly organizes the hair in its respective drawer, and the other in neat little rows that he has labeled. Used wax strips, the nail files he’s used on your hands and feet, old combs, were arranged like precious items among other things you left behind. A half empty tube of chap stick, some receipts that he’s analyzed hundreds of times, old, spat out gum. It was all here, but he needed more. He craved more of you.

Clover locked up that room with much effort. Oh how much he wanted you.

He lit candles, set up the table, heated stones, and brought the various oils and lotions he couldn’t wait to see your body slick with. He heard the creaking on the stairs, and he shuddered. 

“Oh, you got impatient, huh?” He comments, and your footsteps stop abruptly, like you were embarrassed to be caught.

“Yeahhhh,” You said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you blushed. He bit his lip, his face hidden by the flickering light. “I just couldn’t stand waiting… you know me.”

He did. He knew you so well. He’s happy the two of you could agree.

“Okay, here’s a robe… Just go behind that curtain over there and then put this on.”

Clover watches with satisfaction while you did as he instructed. You didn’t know, couldn’t know of course, that he had put a camera in the corner. You wouldn’t blame him, right? Not if you didn’t find out. He just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to get a rare, nude pic of you. After all, he hadn’t been able to get into your home yet.

You slunk out from behind the safety of the partition in that fluffy robe, and he smiled warmly and beckoned you forward. He could practically imagine the amount of new additions he could add to his photo wall. You hopped up onto the table, and he covered you with a sheet. He started a playlist of relaxing music before he rubbed some oil onto his palm before he began kneading the flesh of your legs through the sheet, watching your now relaxed face with an intense gaze. 

Clover loved you. He loved the way you sighed in pleasure as he worked on a particularly stiff knot under your skin. He loved the way you trusted him. He would cherish the robe and the sheet that had touched your pliant form. Everything would be looked after and stored with the utmost care.

Including you.

He smiled, loving and sickeningly sweet as he grabbed a neatly folded, soaked cloth off of the table from its place nestled between decorative flowers. He hovered it over your face as he drank in the sight of your still features. Your nose scrunched, and he bit back the urge to coo. He sighed happily. He wondered if you had caught on that this was the last time you would ever trust him again, that this was the last time you would be anything more than the crowned jewel that he’d been coveting this whole time.

Your eyes fluttered open, his grin stretched wider, and he pressed the cloth down.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.

At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.

"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."

You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.

Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"

Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."

You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night. 

Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground. 

"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.

Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you. 

When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.

I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.

You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.

When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long. 

His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all. 

"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.

"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself. 

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."

Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.

There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle. 

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

Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk. 

You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume. 

When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.

"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.

You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number. 

You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.

Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues. 

As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.

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

The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do. 

When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"

You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."

Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"

You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"

You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."

Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.

"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.

You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.

Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.

"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information. 

"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"

There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."

"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"

"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him." 

You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!

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

Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.

It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.

When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.

When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"

"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"

His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"

He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"

"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming." 

"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted. 

He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."

Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.

"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.

God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"

He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?"

Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."

"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"

"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."

Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"

You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."

"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"

"Yes."

"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves. 

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

Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

TAG LIST: @loopnotloopythough @thegooglyeyedpumkin @fordlita @dudenhaaa27 @clockworkballerina @coffee-lover21 @inejismywife @dckgzz @multiplemando @thatsusbitch @hrts4scarr @mame-mp4 @heyheyheyggg @sam-f1 @shocolattesblog @sunnytkm23 @cmleitora @beskardroids @90intherain @clomo12345 @fall-bambi @emmdreams @booksandflowrs @iwmtfm @haloxmendes @yupnomeh @sittingalonereads @julesbog @luckyladycreator2 @c-losur3 @alliwantisadonut @velocesainz @adalynneva @croissantbakerylws @spideybv28 @hrrorflm @kimialaia @s4turnsl0ver @redfives @starksztony @bluechamp @astrostar24 @offbrand-slasher @splaterparty0-0 @foolforfer @madnesstaking0ver @sarahedwards16

@carlanno @enaticosencantados @too-many0-0fandoms @tatcutie @its-avalon-08 @mina-2056 @small-mean-dwarf @ironmaiden1313 @myhomeworksnotdone @albeelins @thesauronripper666 @teenwolf9-1-1lover @kat-s2 @freetimemachinequeen @mynicosensesaretingling @losore-prone @mrsmelinda @thatonesblog @strollnstroll @sadieurlady @chuxk-lerclerk @johnsmith1437386326263 @happylittlereader @formulanando @roguesourwolf @minkyungseokie @vampsarereal @kihc-zya @hjbbyyy @aloapple19 @users09 @feelslikealbon @smellybreath46 @a-disturbing-self-reflection @hereforfanficsnothingelse @kimialaia @danielricciardotr

[glassrowboat]

Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy

This one's got a little kick to it ough

70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"

......

"Honey..wh..what is this?"

"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"

"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."

"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."

"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."

"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"

"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."

"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"

"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."

As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.

What could he say?

This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..

He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.

"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."

"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendant, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"

Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-

Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.

He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.

By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...

And by your hands, that bond was severed.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."

And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.

The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.

You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.

However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.

He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.

But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.

Four out of the six, in fact.

'Oh man..it happened again..'

You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.

Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.

Why? You were only gone for a few hours..

You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..

"Shane, sweetheart?"

Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.

"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"

He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.

You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.

Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.

Was it...you?

Was you being away stressing him out?

Did he think you wouldn't come back-

"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?" He hiccupped softly.

Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?

Even after talking him off a cliff?

Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?

Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?

"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.

"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."

With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else. And I'm so sorry...I'm such a failure." He sobbed harder.

"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with fresh tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."

"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"

"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."

Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.

"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.." He sniffled, slowly calming down.

You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.

"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."

"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."

"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."

"...you promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."

"Huh..really?"

"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears. "And..you took the pendant back by force. With that dagger you always keep on you."

"....."

"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."

"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask for."

"Thank you.." He nodded, finally realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.

You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."

Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.

Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.

You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.

Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.

But you'll still be here for him no matter what.

[lura-valentine]

Choose Your Own Adventure!

MHA / BNHA Writing event

Part 2: The cool place

This will be an interactive writing event where you decide what happens next!

How does it work❓️

🐵 Character choice - completed 📖 First part of the story Post - concluded 🗳️ At the end of the story there is a survey on how it should continue 🌐 The majority decides what happens next 🔄 The cycle repeats itself until the story ends

Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who liked ❤️ and shared 🔄 the latest part.

There were a surprising number of votes and I really didn't expect such a high turnout. I hope you enjoy this project as much as I do and participate diligently, because the event lives from your votes‼️

To make things more interesting, feel free to give me some suggestions as to what else could happen.

If the suggestions are good, they will be included in the next survey! You can do this anonymously or simply write in the comments😊

Vote 1 Part 1 Part 2

#lura mha/bnha CYOA_1

–> To Kaji's Profile #kaji black character profil

Dabi pushed open the door, stepped inside, and stopped. His gaze slowly wandered around the living room as he ran a hand through his hair. Manga volumes lay scattered on the floor, some open as if someone had simply dropped them carelessly. DVDs were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, some open, their cases buried somewhere in between. And then there was the collection of empty energy drink cans – a veritable fortress of caffeine and sugar, piled up around the controller in front of the screen.

In the midst of this chaos, Kaji sat, completely relaxed, with one foot propped up on the coffee table, a headset in his ears, his fingers flickering over the controller. The giant screen flickered with explosive images of a game that was way too loud, but Kaji didn't seem to mind.

Dabi leaned against the doorframe and took a deep breath. Not out of anger, not out of frustration – but because he was damn proud.

"Shit," he muttered with a crooked grin. "That's a work of art."

Kaji, who only now noticed him, turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're back? I thought you'd stay out all night."

"I might have, if I'd known I'd be coming back to a post-apocalyptic battlefield." Dabi entered the living room, knocking aside an empty can, which rolled into the corner with a quiet clatter. "Should I laugh or slap you for that?"

Kaji lowered the controller, stretched, and yawned pointedly. "Stop pretending you're not celebrating. We both know you're feeling the same way."

Dabi raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, kid, you're right." He slumped onto the sofa, casually pushing a manga page aside with his elbow, and grabbed one of the half-full cans. He took a sip, then grimaced in disgust. "What the hell are you drinking? Tastes like battery acid."

"Caffeine. Sugar. The only energy source I need." Kaji grinned, put his feet back up, and grabbed his controller.

Dabi studied him for a moment, then leaned back, a cigarette between his lips. "Rain would kill us both if she saw this."

Kaji laughed. "Then we have a week to fix this. So relax."

Dabi let the smoke drift out slowly as he surveyed the chaotic scene. It was a damn disaster – but a catastrophe that reminds him suspiciously of himself.

"Well," he finally muttered. "You fucking have more of me than I'd like sometimes."

Kaji shrugged without looking up from his game. "Well then, Dad... make yourself comfortable. I'll give you the second controller if you want to get beat up."

Dabi's gaze fell on the controller, but instead of reaching for it, he just leaned back against the couch and snorted. "As much as I'd like to convince you otherwise, kid, I have another plan."

Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow, pressed a button, and paused the game. "Oh?"

Dabi twirled the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze casually wandering through the chaos that had accumulated here in just one day. "I need your help with something."

Kaji laughed softly, took another sip of his energy drink. "Then it's going to be difficult, because I definitely don't feel like it."

Dabi grinned crookedly. "Oh, just wait a minute. I'm planning to show you a really cool place."

Now it was Kaji who really burst out laughing. Loud and dry. "Cool? Dad... I doubt you can even define cool."

Dabi quirked his mouth mockingly. "So you're really going to pick a fight with me about style? Kid, I was cool before you were even born."

"That was at least a hundred years ago."

"Shut up and move your ass. I swear, you won't regret it."

Kaji tilted his head back and studied his father through half-closed eyes. He knew that look – it was the same one Touya always wore when he was planning something that was either incredibly dangerous or incredibly crazy. It was probably both this time.

"Fine," Kaji finally sighed, throwing his controller onto the couch. "But if this turns out to be a complete failure, I swear I'll be teasing you about it all night."

Dabi stood up, stretched pointedly, and shrugged with a grin. "Well. I've survived worse."

Kaji's mouth twisted slightly, then finally stood up and stretched, his black wings fanning out wide before folding them loosely again. Then he casually picked up the controller and turned off the console and TV.

"If this isn't worth it," he muttered, turning to Dabi, "I'll turn the apartment into a damn winter wonderland."

Dabi laughed softly, straightened his coat, and looked at his son with a mocking glint in his eyes. "You don't have to. You do it every time you dream in your sleep anyway."

Kaji just growled softly as he pulled on his jacket and followed Dabi outside.

The streets were bathed in an unsteady glow from the city lights, billboards flickered on the walls, and people bustled around. Dabi walked with his usual casual stride, his hands in his pockets, while Kaji walked beside him with a critical eye.

They crossed several residential areas, passing narrow alleys and wider main roads, while Kaji became increasingly skeptical. "Tell me, where exactly are you dragging me? This isn't exactly the route to a cool place, if you ask me."

Dabi just grinned mysteriously. "Patience, kid."

Finally, they stopped – in front of an old, run-down underground parking garage.

Kaji blinked. Then he frowned. "Seriously? An underground parking garage? This is your big, cool place?"

Dabi pushed the door open with a gentle push and stepped into the dim entrance. "Wait and see. Sometimes the most interesting thing isn't what you see immediately, but what's underneath."

Kaji snorted, but his interest was piqued. Without another word, he followed his father into the darkness of the underground car park.

As the door closed behind them, absolute darkness enveloped them. The contrast to the neon-lit city outside was so abrupt that for a moment, Kaji saw nothing but blackness. Then a blue flicker hissed through the darkness – Dabi had lit a flame in his hand, making his features dance sharply in the light. The long, narrow corridor before them was bathed in a bluish glow, the shadows on the walls trembling in the restless glow.

"Damn," Kaji muttered, scanning his surroundings. "It's a bit like a bad horror movie."

Dabi grinned crookedly. "If you want, I can give you the role of the first victim."

Kaji snorted in amusement but said nothing as they descended the stairs. The stairs seemed endless, each step echoing dully off the cold walls, accompanied by the faint crackle of Dabi's hot flames.

But then, Kaji heard something. At first, it was barely perceptible, a deep, vibrating sound that echoed through the floor. Kaji pricked up his ears. It was a dull rumble that grew louder with every step they took. There was a strange rhythm to it – not just noise, but... cheers?

He frowned. "What the hell...?"

The closer they got, the clearer it became. Voices, loud and euphoric, interspersed with shouts that echoed in the walls. It was a crowd, and they were celebrating something.

Dabi stopped just a few steps from the stairs and turned to Kaji with a crooked smile.

"So, kid... ready? I told you I'm going to need your help right now."

Kaji raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Help with what?"

Dabi didn't answer. Instead, he pushed open the heavy metal door in front of them.

A bright light exploded into the room, blinding Kaji so much that he automatically threw a hand over his face. At the same time, a wave of pure noise hit him – the roar of a cheering crowd, mixed with screams and cheers, so intense that it momentarily overwhelmed his senses.

As he slowly lowered his hand and opened his eyes again, he saw it.

A huge, makeshift arena stretched out before them, surrounded by stands where people stood tightly packed. The floor was brittle concrete, enclosed by a tall steel cage covered in scratches and dents. In the center, two men fought, their Quirks in close combat and their clothes tattered, while the crowd celebrated each hit with an ecstatic roar.

Dabi stepped forward and spread his arms, grinning. "So, kid? Still sure I don't know what cool is?"

It took Kaji a moment to process all this. "This..." He exhaled slowly. "This is a damn underground fighting arena."

"Right on target." Dabi shoved his hands in his pockets and scanned the fighters. "So-called underground fights take place here. Usually organized by Overhaul or a few other guys with too much money."

Kaji crossed his arms. "And why do the heroes allow this?"

Dabi shrugged. "Well, officially, such places are illegal, but in reality..." He grinned crookedly. "Let's just say the heroes and the cops tolerate them. Because they keep us villains happy and supposedly prevent us from doing even bigger shit outside."

Kaji scanned the crowd. There weren't just villains here – he recognized some shady businessmen, a few inconspicuously dressed people who looked like rich clients.

"So?" Dabi pushed past him, looking over his shoulder. "Are you impressed now, or do I need to show you something better?"

Kaji clicked his tongue and let his gaze wander over the roaring crowd. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed in mock annoyance. "Okay, I admit it. This is... not bad."

Dabi laughed softly. "Not bad? Kid, this is real life. No heroics, no rules, no stupid uniforms. Just strength against strength."

Kaji turned his head toward him. "That's all well and good, but what exactly do you need my help for?"

Dabi stretched, relaxed, as if he'd just been waiting for that question to come. "Well, you know, the League's keeping its feet still right now. No major chaos, no missions – AFO wants us to keep a low profile." He grimaced briefly, as if he didn't particularly like the idea. "But staying still isn't my thing. I need to stay in shape. And that's why your mom and I regularly fight in team battles here."

Kaji raised an eyebrow. "Team battles?"

"Two on two." Dabi scanned the arena. "The rules are simple: Fight until one of you can't fight anymore or gives up. Rain and I have already won quite a bit of prize money."

Kaji snorted. "Prize money? I thought she was already filthy rich."

Dabi shrugged. "Well, you can never have enough money. And let's be honest, for us, this is less about the money than about having fun."

"I see." Kaji eyed him skeptically. "So where exactly do I come into play?"

Dabi's grin widened. "Rain's gone. Normally I'd fight alongside Shigaraki, but AFO's keeping him on a short leash right now. That means I need a replacement."

Kaji blinked. Then he shook his head in disbelief. "Wait. You want me to get in the ring with you?"

"Exactly."

For a moment, Kaji said nothing. Then he laughed quietly and shook his head again. "Dude... you're really stupid."

Dabi just grinned. "Come on, kid. I know you want to. And if you're being honest – you want to see if you can keep up with me, don't you?"

Kaji twisted his mouth, his pride flashing in his eyes, sharp as the edge of a sword that's been sheathed for too long. "Tch. If I step into the ring, it won't be to be your damn sidekick."

Dabi laughed, deep and throaty, as if he'd been waiting for this exact reaction. "Then prove it to me." His eyes sparkled in the glow of the arena lights, as if there was something in there that reignited not only his muscles but also his fire.

Kaji stood there as if he were glowing. The wings on his back twitched, flexed, a few of the feathers fluttering like glittering shards of frost as he trembled with energy. "Come on, old man. Show me where I sign."

Dabi just grinned broadly and gestured for him to follow. The two moved through the milling crowd of fighters, onlookers, and dealers conducting their own business in the half-shadows until they stopped in front of a table that looked as if it had been hammered together from old metal sheets. Behind it sat two men who looked like walking gas grenades – broad shoulders, heavy jackets, and both wearing gas masks whose lenses gleamed dully in the neon lighting.

"Two on two. Straight in," Dabi growled as he leaned forward, flashing the flame in his hand briefly, just as a calling card – a reminder of who they were dealing with.

The guys exchanged a brief glance, then one of them wordlessly handed over a clipboard. Kaji scribbled his name on it, his gaze sweeping over the remaining fighters, who were chatting, testing their Quirks, or warming up.

It only took a few seconds for Dabi's presence to be noticed. Some of the men who were just tightening their bandages or putting grilles on their teeth suddenly turned pale. Two even started to quietly retreat from the line, but then their gaze fell on Kaji, who was now standing next to Dabi like a shadow slowly taking shape.

"Shit... Dabi's here."

"Do you want to unsubscribe?" a skinny guy whispered to his partner, neither of whom was clearly built for a real fight.

"Wait... Rain's not with him. Neither is Shigaraki."

"Who's the other one?"

"I don't know... looks young. Maybe a newbie."

"If he's just some rookie, we might have a chance..."

Dabi heard every word. A barely perceptible smirk twitched across his lips as he turned away from the registration desk. "Can you hear that, Kaji?" he murmured as they moved toward the benches. "The wolves are already sniffing around, thinking I have a lamb on my side."

Kaji gritted his teeth. "Then let me bite them first."

Dabi laughed softly, proudly, without having to say it. "You may. But you'll fight with me. And you'll stick to my rhythm. If you step out of line, you'll burn your wings."

"And if you get too hot, I'll cool your ass," Kaji growled back.

A quick look – hard against hard, heat against cold, pride against pride – then a nod. They understood each other.

A man approached them, a loudspeaker around his neck, distorting his voice. "You're match six. Two against two. You have ten minutes, then it's time to get in the ring."

Dabi put his arm loosely around Kaji's shoulders, as if he wanted to whisper something to him. "Ten minutes, huh? Plenty of time to warm up."

Kaji's eyes glowed in the reflection of the arena lights. "I'll freeze them before they even see where the blow came from."

Dabi grinned. "That's my son."

The entertainer stepped into the cone of light as Dabi and Kaji slowly made their way through the vibrating darkness toward the arena, a heartbeat of light and shadow, punctuated by the dull rumble of the music that danced in their ribs like an alien pulse, impetuous and urgent. Every step echoed heavily on the concrete floor, as if their soles wanted to warn the stage.

The crowd roared, a chaotic sea of ​​shouts, stomping, and wild whistling, but the entertainer, all in black with a glittering tie, raised his hand imperiously. The microphone pressed to his lips, his grin cutting across his face like a razor blade, his voice coaxing, sweet as poisoned honey.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between – tonight we welcome a new duo to our arena... on the one hand, an old acquaintance. The burning madness with a pure desire for destruction – Daaabi!"

A torrent of howls, stomping, and burning ecstasy shot through the arena as if someone had lit the fuse of a powder keg. The name was as familiar as a threat, his presence a myth that burned beneath the skin.

"And by his side – well, let's just call him Blue, the Rookie!"

A murmur ran through the crowd, a mixture of mockery and curiosity. Kaji twisted his mouth as if he'd been spat in the face. "Blue, the Rookie? Seriously?"

Dabi laughed softly, his shoulders shrugging beneath his leather. "Well, you're completely unknown, not a file, not even a footnote in the villain world. Of course they call you Rookie."

"That's changing now," Kaji growled, the crackle of his ice flame suppressed but palpable in the air, like the first tremors before a blizzard.

A mischievous smile crossed the entertainer's face, but he remained silent, instead turning dramatically to the other side of the arena. The gate there opened with a metallic groan, as if the underground itself were sighing.

"And their opponents: Two of the toughest dogs from the underground! Atlas and Crank – pure brawn, no brains, but enough force to tear down a house!"

The men who stepped out of the gate looked like nightmares come to life. Atlas, broad-shouldered, metal plates on his chest and arms, rigid as a fortress. Crank, smaller, wirier, but wrapped in chains that rattled with every movement as if they were alive. Their gazes were aggressive, their movements snarling, but in their eyes, a brief twitch of uncertainty flashed – not because of Dabi. But because of the stranger at his side.

"You both are due!" Crank yelled, the chains creaking as he tightened them.

The gong ripped through the air.

And suddenly, there was only movement.

Kaji and Dabi moved like mirror images – a fluid, perfect choreography of instinctive unison. Their flames ignited simultaneously, Dabi's fist flared up, a seething blue that seared the air even before he struck, while Kaji's ice flames sliced ​​sharply and coolly into the air like a blizzard freezing flesh.

Their fists struck their targets in sync, a double impact like a thunderclap that rippled through bone and marrow. Their opponents had no chance. Crank was caught by Dabi's fist, a scream, a twitching flash, and his body was thrown against the cage wall like a wet sack. At the same time, Atlas flew, trembling from Kaji's icy flame, against the bars and lay gasping, steaming, unconscious.

And then, there was absolute silence. The audience, frozen in motion, as if someone had stopped time. Then the microphone clicked, a feedback screeched.

The entertainer stepped forward again, his smile now wider, almost enjoyable. "...oh, how embarrassing of me. I almost forgot to mention something important..."

He held out his arms theatrically. "This is our very special father-son duo! A fiery devil and his frosty heir! Bow down to... Dabi and his son Blue!"

The crowd exploded.

Cheers, screams, whistles, cardboard mugs flew into the air and someone fired a flare at the ceiling. There was whispering, bets, some were already calling for a rematch, for more – more heat, more power, more of that look between father and son that danced between respect, challenge, and a touch of madness.

Dabi stood there calmly, letting the flames lick their way out on his arms, while Kaji still stood slightly bent over, his wings half-spread, his shoulders shaking with the euphoria of victory, and yet there was no pride in his eyes, but hunger – not for blood, but for meaning.

"Okay..." he muttered, almost to himself, and glanced sideways at Dabi. "I admit... this is fucking fun."

Dabi stepped closer, placing his hand on his shoulder, heavy, warm, and honest.

"I told you," he grumbled as they retraced their steps down the corridor, away from the light, into the dim heart of the underground.

"So?" Kaji asked quietly as they headed toward the preparation room. "Was it enough to step out of your shadow?"

Dabi casually lit a small flame and let it dance across his fingertip. "You didn't step out of my shadow," he said without looking at him. "You made your own. And that's fucking frosty."

Kaji laughed softly, a ragged, almost surprised-honest sound. "Maybe it's time they got to know me."

Dabi looked at him, really at him. Something rare flashed in his eyes for a moment – pride, yes, but also worry. A hint of fear. And something dark, quietly scratching at the door of his consciousness.

"Yeah... I guess it is."

But as soon as they entered the room, Dabi felt it. A tug in his stomach. Not painful, not exactly– more like a premonition. A shadow slowly spreading across his insides, like a wing of black smoke.

He knew there were men out there, as well as organizations… eyes waiting in the darkness. People like Overhaul, and others like them, unspoken of, who were interested in powerful sons. Very… interested.

The following battles felt like a rush of adrenaline. Time passed more slowly, flames hissed, and the air reeked of scorched metal. Those brave enough to even face them were brought to their knees within seconds.

Some tried tactics, ducking, retreating, but Kaji's eyes flashed like cold steel, his silhouette vanishing in a sudden storm of frozen embers. Those who tried to dive to the side to avoid the direct blow were mercilessly met with a fiery kick. His legs a swirl of icy fire that hurled bodies across the arena like toys. His every move was a dancing slash of ice and cold, no mercy in his kicks, only the precision of a fighter finally allowed to prove himself.

Dabi, on the other hand, was the storm. He moved with a nonchalance more dangerous than any scream. Its flames did not blaze in wild fountains, they crawled, they licked, they waited. When he struck, it was an act of determination, as if saying with every movement: You are not worthy of feeling my full fury.

Two teams had already given up before the bell sounded. They had heard the names, seen the flames, the glow of the wings, and realized this fight wasn't meant for them. Some cursed, others bowed their heads silently as they retreated, the bitter taste of fear and shame on their tongues.

And so, father and son moved through the arena like forces of nature, leaving nothing but charred shadows and frozen silhouettes in their wake, until only the finale remained.

And then, they stood before him...

Dabi recognized him before the light fully hit him. The broad shoulders, the grotesquely proliferating muscles, as if tendons and skin had been stretched too tightly over his body. The manic grin that knew no joy, only hunger — Muscular.

He stood there like a monument of flesh, covered in a grotesque armor of his own tissue that pulsed with every movement. At his side was a man, gaunt, with thinning hair and sunken cheeks, little more than a shadow. Apparently, Muscular had simply dragged him along. The guy wasn't a partner, merely a means to compete.

"Dabi..." Muscular roared with a grin too crooked even for death. "Missed you, dude. The scars from back then still itch."

Dabi took a step forward, his eyes narrowed, his flames still hidden, but the air already vibrating. "I thought you'd rot long ago."

Muscular laughed, a dry, vicious bark that echoed through the arena. "You took my Arena title back then. Today I'm taking it back. And that one…" his gaze fell on Kaji, slowly and curiously, "I'll take him down right away."

Kaji didn't answer. But the beat of his wings was answer enough. A soft, sharp hiss as the ice crystals formed on the ground, his flames flickering restlessly, like a waking demon.

Dabi gritted his teeth. "You're not touching him. Not a single hair."

Muscular grinned even wider, took a step forward, the floor splintering beneath his feet. "Then show me what the father-son miracle is really about!"

The gong fell like an axe through the silence.

Muscular's body tensed like a rope about to break, his veins bulging beneath his skin, his muscles pulsing, grotesquely exaggerated like the caricature of a god who knew nothing but violence. With a deep, rumbling roar, he charged forward. No tactics, no hesitation, just pure force. The ground shook beneath his steps, dust swirled, and each of his thunderous kicks sounded like a sledgehammer on concrete.

Kaji barely had time to his breath. His pupils narrowed, his body tensed instinctively, but he didn't retreat. He raised his arms, and at the same moment, a flame blazed from within him. It crept over his shoulders, spreading out like a living cloak of light, shimmering between blue and white, flickering like flaming frost.

With a single, powerful movement, he threw his arms forward – the flames shot out in a fan-like arc, and in their center, a wall rapidly formed. Rising and icy cold, but barely had it reached its full height when it began to change.

A crackling sound ran through the fire, the light faded, the blue brightened. It crystallized until only a shimmering, translucent wall of ice remained, veined with fine, luminous lines. It was no ordinary ice, but the kind only Kaji could create – flames frozen in mid-motion.

Muscular slammed into it with unchecked force. A dull thud, a disgusting crunch, and then the wall shattered with a single sound passing through Mark. Shards of ice flew through the air like missiles, slicing into skin and dust. Kaji threw himself to the side – not gracefully, but quickly, instinctively, his body rolling along the ground, wings tucked in, ready for the next leap.

But Muscular was faster, faster than his massive frame would suggest – he whirled around like a force of nature that knew no time, a colossus programmed only for destruction. The fist rushed in, accompanied by a throaty laugh that sounded like rusted iron.

A scream – not from Kaji, but from the air itself – for suddenly there was heat.

A blinding light cut through the gloom of the arena, and a flaming fist, deep blue and angry like the suppressed embers of decades of hatred, struck Muscular full force in the side. It wasn't a direct hit – Dabi wasn't aiming for his body, but for his momentum, his direction. The flames enveloped him like an electric shock, throwing him to the side and making him stagger.

"You're fighting both of us, you ogre," Dabi growled, his voice hoarse, his eyes burning like two narrow rips in the darkness. The flames on his arms licked hungrily, ready for more.

Kaji was back on his feet, his gaze a single, focused cut. Adrenaline pumped hotly through his veins, and somewhere between anger, respect, and a hint of satisfaction, a smile twitched on his lips.

"Nice save, dad."

Dabi huffed. "You can thank my later. Now we'll burn him away."

Muscular spat on the ground, a smacking sound followed by a ragged laugh that echoed in his massive chest like the rumble of a volcano before it erupts.

"What's wrong, Dabi?" he sneered. "You used to give a damn if your buddy got hit by a bus." His eyes flashed, adrenaline pulsing through his oversized body, every tendon straining, ready for the next explosion. "And now? Now you're jumping around this kid like a guard dog. What happened to you, huh?"

Dabi was silent for a moment, his chin slightly lowered, his eyes fixed on Muscular. The words struck a chord within him, but not in the way Muscular had hoped. No anger, no sting of guilt. Only this faint, burning glow, blazing in the depths of his iris like the remnants of an old fire that had never quite gone out.

"It was never completely meaningless to me," he murmured finally, backing away slowly, his step deliberate, gliding like smoke, until he stood behind Kaji. "I just couldn't afford it. Not then, not at Shigaraki's side. Not with Rain storming through the front lines with flaming feathers. We couldn't afford to be soft. Not with the whole world trying to crush us."

He paused for a breath. "But this... this is different. This isn't about missions. This isn't about contracts or a damned rebellion. This is about my son."

Muscular grimaced, the smile falling, giving way to dull confusion, a palpable incomprehension. "Son? Tch."

He didn't need any more words. His legs tensed, the ground cracked beneath his weight, and with a primal scream, he charged straight at Dabi. His fists clenched, his body like a living battering ram.

Dabi didn't move. Not a flinch, not a retreat. Only two small words came from his lips.

"Now, Kaji."

The air changed in a single heartbeat. Kaji raised his arms, his eyes blazing like the northern lights in the night, and his wings spread like those of a demon finally freed from its cage.

Flames erupted from him – not as before, not cautious or tamed, but wild, with a primal force that was barely controllable. They shot in all directions, punched the air, licked hungrily at anything that moved, like a pack of predators finally unleashed.

The cold exploded. The arena was engulfed in a blinding blue inferno that engulfed every corner – the bars, the concrete, part of the stands. It was as if someone had brought the sun down to the ground and chained it.

And then – the break.

The flames changed. Their edges froze. The colors shifted from blazing blue to an almost painfully bright white. In a split second, everything froze – as if frozen in another reality. The arena became silent, a single, rigid cage of frozen fire.

Muscular's body was trapped inside, frozen in motion, his partner barely recognizable as such. A distorted shadow behind the frozen wall. Only Muscular's head remained exposed, panting, steaming, his face contorted with exertion, his muscles twitching, fighting to resist freezing.

"I'll get you... I..."

Dabi stepped forward, calmly, his hands in his pockets, his face cool as ash after the fire.

"You'd better not do that," he said quietly, but his tone cut like a knife. "Or have you forgotten what happens to cold muscles when you strain them too much?"

Muscular's eyes widened as the truth dawned on him – the trembling, the tingling, the beginnings of pain deep in the tendons.

Dabi grinned crookedly with satisfaction. "They tear."

The gong echoed through the arena like the dull beat of a massive heart – a metallic echo that was lost in the icy silence, bringing the world to a surreal standstill.

Not the usual roaring yelling, not deafening cheers. Just a breathless silence that settled over the stands like fog. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the huge block that took up three-quarters of the arena.

Kaji stood in the middle of this ghostly still life, his shoulders still slightly raised, his breath smoking in the cold air left behind by his own flames. Dabi stood beside him, his hands in his pockets, as if refusing to let the force of the moment get to him too much – but there was a gleam in his eyes that was rarely seen there.

Then, as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume on the world, the crowd exploded.

Shouts, screams, and applause erupted like an avalanche, raging from the stands like a storm of pure enthusiasm. Names were shouted, feet drummed to the beat, and in the midst of it all, they -father and son- stood the undisputed victors.

Dabi took one last look at the block of ice, a mocking twitch in the corner of his mouth, then turned slightly to the side, scrutinizing Kaji with a look that said more than words ever could.

"Not bad, kid," he murmured, and it sounded almost too casual to be real. "For your age... pretty impressive."

Kaji snorted, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair, his feathers still had a slight glow in them.

"If I weren't impressive, it would be embarrassing. After all, you trained me." He grinned broadly and glanced briefly at the crowd, which was still roaring like a disturbed swarm of bees. "You know what? I'd love to do that again. There's something about arena fights... something so raw and honest. No ambushes, no politics. Just you, your opponent, and your fire."

Dabi raised an eyebrow, the flickering flames long since extinguished, but his expression remained serious.

"Enjoy the moment, Kaji. Because that was the last time for a long, long time."

Kaji blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"

Dabi grimaced slightly, lowering his voice, as if he didn't want to say the words out loud.

"If your mother finds out you've already been to the arena, now, without prior agreement, without her..."

He paused, took a deep breath, as if the very idea caused pain.

"She'll bury us both alive. Grounded forever."

Kaji laughed softly, half nervous, half incredulous. "You're exaggerating."

Dabi looked at him. "I was ten minutes late for training once. She banned me from using fire for a month."

Kaji trailed off. "...Oh."

My moral supporters

@tiny-roki-todoroki | @alexandhisstuff | @doumadono | @unhinged-bratty-boy | @within-eyesight

@indignant-alpaca @vakoss @pranses-oradea @hiding-inner-dabi @irkedpomeranian @the-fallen-moonknight @dr4g0n3t @dedinside1221 @shiggyniggy @roast-toast @grossograsso @brokenheart-brokenmind6 @thedancingparrot

I mention accounts that my works ❤️ and 🔄. If anyone no longer wishes to be mentioned, please let me know.

[cosmerelists]

I Assign Cosmere Characters A Random Animal As Their Pet

I'm using the random generator from this post. I've already created a list of Cosmere characters (it's just the main characters I always do, ha ha), and then I'll randomly assign them a pet and see how they fair! For the record, these results are not altered at all!

[For the purposes of this post, we're gonna pretend that any animal that comes up would make a good and ethical pet, okay? Please don't actually try to adopt a bear.]

1. Kaladin: A dromedary (a type of camel)

Kaladin: [stares at the camel] Camel: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: T-This is just a bigger, meaner horse! Kaladin: I can tell just from one glance into its eyes that that hump is full of SPITE Camel: [spits at Kaladin] Kaladin: I KNEW IT

2. Vin: A mustang (a type of horse)

Vin: Yes, yes, you think you're soooo pretty and fast, don't you? Vin: I'm faster, you know. Probably. With enough metal. Vin: So just don't you getting to big for your horse britches! Elend: Wow! What a beautiful horse! Vin: Don't you start!

3. Shallan: A monkey

Shallan: What a cute little monkey you are! Shallan: With the little outfit Adolin sewed for you, and the paintbrush I gave you! Shallan: A regular little monkey artist! Pattern: [buzzing] I keep telling you, Shallan, this creature wants to be like that one person I saw when you were looking for the herald! It wants to be paint with its p- Shallan (loudly): We'll just use regular paint, thank you!

4. Tress: A mandrill (largest monkey in the world)

Tress: Wow, you have such a pretty face, ma'am! Tress: And a large girl like you won't need to fear any mean ol' cat, will you! Charlie: I feel strangely inadequate. Tress: I-I didn't mean it that way!

5. Dalinar: A bear

Dalinar: You and I are a lot alike, bear. Dalinar: We are both large and intimidating, and we can hurt a lot of people if we get violent. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Also, apparently Navani really likes to cuddle with both of us. Navani: He's soooo soft!

6. Painter: A bighorn (a type of sheep)

Painter: I like him. Painter: He's got a noble bearing. You can tell with those big horns and steely gaze, he's probably king of his herd or something. Painter: So please stop stacking chopsticks on his head. Yumi: Come on, he LOVES his chopstick-tower-hat! Bighorn: [making happy sheep noises] Painter: I-I just think his gravitas is taking a hit.

7. Leshwi: A burro (a type of donkey)

Lewshi: I'll admit, I was really hoping for an animal that could fly. Venli: Surely anything can fly if you lash it to the sky. Leshwi: I tried that. Leshwi: Apparently donkeys don't like to fly.

8. Adolin: A basilisk (a type of lizard)

Shallan: So...why the little cape on your lizard friend? Adolin: He runs across water! It's cool, but I thought it would look even cooler if he was wearing a cape while he did it! Shallan: Where do you find enough water for that? Adolin: Well...he's mostly been running across a bathtub. Shallan: Ah, so he REALLY needs the coolness factor of a cape... Adolin: Yeah, I think it'll really help his self-esteem.

9. Steris: A sheep

Wax: Hey Steris. Steris: Hello, Wax. Wax: I can't help but notice that where yesterday was one sheep, today there are fifteen sheep. Steris: I read that they feel better in herds! Wax: You always go all in--I love that about you. Wax: ... Steris: ... Wax: So we're sheep farmers now? Steris: A little bit, yeah.

10. Navani: A ferret

Sibling: NAVANI YOUR FERRET IS RUNNING THROUGH MY TUNNELS AGAIN Navani: It loves you! Sibling: IT'S LIKE THAT LIFT CHILD ALL OVER AGAIN

11. Siri: A budgerigar (bird)

Siri: This little guy is perfect for me! Siri: Colorful, small, sweet! Siri: I'm teaching it to talk! Budgie: Let's destroy evil! Siri: ... Siri: Uncle Vasher was here again, wasn't he?

12. Kelsier: A duckbill platypus (yes, really)

Kelsier: Everyone, meet the newest member of our team! Dockson: Uh...what is that? Vin: It looks like a bunch of different animals stuck together. Breeze: Rather unsightly, really. Ham: You, uh, doing okay, Kel? Kelsier: You're all such doubters. But watch what happens when I do THIS! [Puts a fedora on the platypus] Vin: ...Why do I suddenly feel like he's going to make a great spy? Kelsier: Trust me, this is gonna be great!

[heartbreakgrill]

happen: sleep token (vessel).

a/n: we pretend we don’t see my unfinished fics, okay? also we pretend we don’t see my spelling and grammar and plot mistakes in this, okay? okay. enjoy :)

"your paint is smeared."

vessel looked up from his piano, first meeting my eyes, then following where my finger pointed to.

"shit," his accent stuck out like a sore thumb, elongating the i in the cuss word.

vessel wiped a finger across the paint in an attempt to blend it in. it didn't do much.

"i think you might be making it worse," i commented with a smug smile.

vessel met my sneering gaze. he was unphased by the sarcasm on my tongue. he reached a blackened hand forward as he tried to rip the clipboard from my hands. i ducked out of his reach. the piano blocked him from me, but his arms were long enough that he managed to swipe a hand across my stack of papers.

i scoffed, stepping back a few feet, examining the black paint overtop my paperwork. "vess!"

"y/n!" he mocked my tone. he rounded the piano, coming to look down at the paper in my hands. "your paint is smeared, lovey."

i looked at up with an annoyed stare, "fuck off."

vess patted my bare shoulder, sending electrically shocked goosebumps down my clammy skin. i shifted my arms, hoping he wouldn't notice how i shivered under his touch.

"i'll go get some more paint, kay?" i offered with a deep breath.

vessel settled in front of his piano again. he nodded, pressing a few keys, "there's a tube in my dressing room."

"be right back."

i turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. i passed ii, who patted my head, and iv, who made some chirp about me owing him a shot- which just wasn't true.

i reached the dressing room soon enough. i'd been in here- in the other ones- numerous times. we often all hung out as a group between shows, in here or out on the town with various disguises on the boys. i still didn’t know who the guys were outside of those masks and strange nicknames. sam did, of course, because he’d been teching for the boys for years now. plus, they all had a brotherly relationship. they trust him.

for some reason, going in here by myself felt provocative. i kept my vision tunnelled, just in case they left something important out. they were men, after all-messy, sometimes careless, forgetful.

outside clothes, hoodies and sweatpants i recognized, sat strewn across the chairs and couches. their personal cellphones were sat with their things, different from the work phones they had been assigned. i had their work numbers, for professional conversations, for getting bullied by ii and iv in the groupchat. vessel and i talked, sometimes, about new coffee shops in new towns we'd be stopping by, movies we'd need to go see when we had a day off.

personal phone numbers were for the trusted.

i b-lined for vessel's paint and brushes, on the counter beside his phone. as i did, my eyes glossed over a wallet. it wasn’t one that i recognized. but, i knew that it was vessel's. or, whoever he really was. my fingers itched with a curiosity that i could not feed. it was none of my business who they were. if they wanted me to know, they'd tell me. they'd unmask themselves when we're chilling out on the tour bus.

if vessel trusted me, if he felt our silly conversations held any depth like i thought they did, he'd tell me who he was.

no matter that i'd known him for six months and hehad yet to do so. no matter that i thought we might have reached that point. no matter that sometimes, when he looked at me, there was a longing sat right behind his eyes, a wanting that made me feel entrusted, that made me feel like he understood what was bleeding off my skin.

no matter.

i grabbed the paint and headed back for the stage. vessel was sitting on the side of it now, talking to ii about something or the other. i handed the paint off to him. i went to go backstage, heel prepared to turn, when he spoke, "thanks, lovey."

ii followed vessel's gaze up to me. i stood overtop of them. ii's eyes raked up my bare legs, over the little black dress i wore. he met my eyes and nodded. "hey, gorgeous."

ii always enjoyed flirting with me. playfully, of course. vessel rolled his eyes at the usual quip. "here we go..."

"i am going to do my job. see ya later!"

ii reached up and grabbed my hand before i could leave. i jerked back to my spot, brows raised. ii shook my arm around, "go on, darling, give us a strut."

"you're ridiculous," i ripped my hand from his, though i chuckled slightly.

"tell her, vess," ii nudged his bandmate's shoulder with his elbow, "tell her how beautiful she is. she just doesn't believe me!"

i met vessel's eyes. he never joined the boys in their teasing, never flirted like ii did. he was always genuine, kind. our conversations were always full of depth, too. in fact, he never showed much interest in me besides those longing, full glances that i took to heart, that i let create a delusional fantasy land in my head. everytime i thought he might be, when we'd have these great conversations, he'd pull back. like was afraid, or he didn't fully trust me.

so, i shuddered when vessel's eyes drug down my body, over my exposed chest, the barely visible tops of my boobs, the curve of my waist, hugged tight by the dress, and the skin of my thighs and calves, right to the tips of my platform boots.

it was then that i realized today was going to be a very different day.

"you look..." vessel rolled his eyes back up my body, to my own flustered gaze, "good."

i couldn't get away fast enough. i thanked them both, stuttering slightly, before turning on my heel and racing towards backstage. i bumped into iv's shoulder and muttered a half-hearted apology.

i knew that they all were staring at me, analyzing my girlish behavior. i knew they'd talk about it.

and that was embarrassing as fuck.

when the show ended, i was determined to not be anywhere near any of the boys. i escaped to the bus sam, myself, and the other techies slept on. i changed into comfortable clothing and lay in my bunk, willing the blush on my cheeks to finally leave me alone.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. did i long for him to say something like that? duh!

did i actually want it to happen? no, bitch.

because that changed everything for me.

i just needed to hide out here for the night, will my anxiety and the fawn look in my eyes away. tomorrow, i could shift everything back to how it was. tomorrow, he’d probably act the same- passive, uninterested.

even if there was any weight to that entire interaction, it’s not like anything could even happen between us.

management made the band swear off girls for risk of privacy and in order to focus on their work. besides, i worked for the band. i helped run every single show they did. they were my boss’.

and there was that whole issue of him not trusting me. because it was so obvious that he didn’t.

i was letting my brain run around too much.

what snapped me back to reality was the commotion of everyone returning to the bus, excited chatter from the other men on the crew filling the once silent vehicle. sam's voice got closer as he and another techie approached their bunks, across and above from my own. i figured they’d just be grabbing something before everyone headed out to the bar.

but, of course- that wasn’t my luck.

"yoohoo," sam knocked a fist on wall, near my head, "is there a y/n in here?"

i huffed, "what do you want?" i knew they were here to berate me to come out with them. but that would mean seeing the boys- having to confront the issue that was vessel.

"get up, grandma," sam teased me for being in bed so soon, "we're going to the bar."

"i'm tired," i replied, a slight groan in my voice. please just go away.

"that's a load of bull," sam scoffed, "you literally said this morning that you wanted to go out tonight."

i went to reply, but more voices filled the bus, all too familiar ones that made my chest tight.

"what's going on? is y/n okay?" that thick british accent burst through whatever i was gonna say next. iv.

then, another spoke- ii, i was pretty certain. "what? what's happening? aren't you coming out, y/n?”

i shoved my head into my pillow, wanting to scream. the only downside of tour was this obvious lack of privacy. i appreciated that my presence was always wanted by just about anyone i worked with. but, god, can’t a girl daydream and regret her actions in peace?

i pulled open the curtains sheltering my bed, just a fraction, not even trying to mask my annoyed expression. ii, iv, and sam were squatted just outside my bunk. sam wore a cheeky grin, but the others had their outside masks on. i could read their energy well, though.

"i'm fine, guys," i waved them all off, cuddled up under my blankets, "i just wanna chill tonight."

"no! you can't! please! you have to go out with us! you promised last time you would! plus you owe me a shot!" iv whined, head tilted to the left. he really needed to find a new gimmick.

i rolled my eyes, "you're a baby."

"wow, y/n," ii set a comforting hand on iv's shoulder, gasping at my insult, "that's harsh. here i thought we were friends."

sam laughed in response, "yeah, y/n. that was really mean. you hurt iv's feelings." he, also, touched iv’s arm.

i met iv's eyes with pursed lips. his eyes read no signs of offense. we were all always so mean to each other and i knew they’d call me out if i ever took it too far. no, this- this was them bullying me back. trying to get me to come out. they’d probably, eventually, get on me about my flustered escape from earlier. ii nudged iv, and he began to fake cry, head dropped down into his hands.

i rolled my eyes again with an exasperated huff, "oh, my god. here we go."

the bus door swung open, then shut again, as the rest of the band made their way in. i didn't notice, too caught up in the boys' theatrics to get nervous that vessel was in my vicinity. he stood just out of sight, watching all of us.

iv sobbed, shoulders rocking. "i can't believe you'd say that, y/n!"

"whatever. im not coming out, freaks,” i went to shut the curtain, but sam pushed it open all the way.

i dropped my head to my pillow in annoyance. ii spoke now, egging on the situation further. i grew nervous he’d bring up earlier, "there's just one thing you can do to make this up to him."

"let me guess, it tastes like vodka and rhymes with hot?" i murmured as i pressed a stressed hand over my eyes.

ii pried my hands from my head. “actually- tastes like hennessy and rhymes with get the fuck out of bed!" he, then, reached into my bunk and tickled my sides.

i laughed this ugly, wheezing laugh, squirming away from ii's reach. iv's showcase of crying twisted into him falling back onto his ass, laughing with his head thrown back. sam held onto the bunk as he joined. i then heard vessel and iii's laughs, echoing from a bit down the hall. i tried to snap myself out of the situation, insecure by vessel's presence. but, ii just wouldn't stop tickling me.

luckily, he did, leaving my face red, tears spilling out of my eyes, and a newfound energy to get up from my bunk. i didn’t forget that vessel was standing there, watching. and, i knew, i’d have to face the reality of my embarrassment eventually. but, the boys drunk were usually pretty sweet.

"alright," i huffed and shoved the covers off of my body, "let's go, you freaks."

"you'll come?" ii offered me his hand, helping me off of the floor.

"yeah, i'll come," i released his hand, steadied on my feet. i shoved his shoulder as i walked towards the closet at the end of the hall. i pushed past sam and iv to get there. as i searched through my bag, trying to find my dress from earlier, i felt eyes still on me. all the boys had begun moving from the bus, going outside to smoke and wait on me. but, vessel was still there. lingering.

he waved at me as i looked down the hall towards him. my face flushed again and i gave an awkward smile. god, i was not helping the situation. if anything, i was making it worse, making him uncomfortable, ruining everything. he’d never trust me now.

i put back on my little black dress, tights to bear the cold, platform boots. my makeup was still in tact, though i had to clean up a few smudges made by my sweat from the show. i finally met everyone outside the bus, drawing eyes to my body as i bounded down the steps.

"still looking sexy, darling," ii flirted, cheekily, taking my hand and forcing me to do a little spin in front of everyone.

as i faced back to everyone, i pulled my hand from his and shoved him away from me again. "creep- let's go. you owe me a shot."

"um, i think it's the other way around," ii scoffed.

i began walking from the group, towards the bar down the street. i tossed a confused look over my shoulder, "that never happened. you're crazy."

i left behind a trail of laughing men, a stunned ii. they teased me- but i did back just as much.

it was just a five minute walk, and i kept my pace ahead of everyone because i was cold and wanted to get there quicker. i knew someone was watching me- again. i knew the feel of that stare. i knew it was vesel. so, i tried to stay just far enough ahead that he couldn't catch up. i don’t think i could keep up any meaningful conversation when my heart was still beating this quickly.

alas, the over 6' man fell in stride beside me, easily, hands shoved in the pockets of an alpha wolf sweatshirt. he adjusted his sunglasses, inhaling a chilly breath before saying, “why’d you run off earlier? before the show? did i- say something wrong?”

"no reason," i snapped a too-quick response, arms crossed over my chest. my cheeks were reddening again.

he tsked his tongue, “good. shame, though, i didn't get to enjoy this dress for as long as i would have liked to.” i couldn’t see his eyes- but i knew they flicked down over my body. i straightened up under the gaze.

what game was he playing?

maybe he just wanted to hook up. i knew it wasn’t anything serious for him, because it couldn’t be.

i could imagine he and the boys were horny. all the time they’d spent declaring celibacy on this tour must be getting to them. so, i convinced myself that’s what this was. but, i of course didn’t want that.

so, i couldn’t help but feel let down that i had gotten my hopes up. i had thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like i wanted him. that, again, maybe, he trusted me like i wanted him to. like i trusted him.

i looked up at him, head tilted back from his height. i tried to read the air between us, hoping something else was there. but i knew he wore a cheeky grin beneath his mask. i frowned, slightly, a desperate disappointment laying just behind my eyes. my head shook just slightly, "don't."

vessel's shoulders fell. he nodded, just once, before silencing himself.

we walked to the bar in drowning silence. i wanted to stop, to turn to him and ask him a million questions. why didn’t he trust me? why didn’t he want me? why couldn’t we try?

why couldn’t we have met in another lifetime, where he didn’t feel the need to hide behind a mask? where he didn’t have to put his life on the line just to reveal himself to me?

not that would fix anything if he didn’t feel what i felt.

i needed a drink.

when we got to the bar, we got swept up in the excitement from our group, separated from each other. i was grateful for the space. it allowed me to breathe, allowed me to start getting wasted.

ii and iv shoved drink after drink into my hands. we pounded shots off of the wooden counter of the bar. we paid far too much for the shitty jukebox in the corner to play our favorite songs. ii even eventually drug me out to the make-shift dance floor, holding my free hand in his, guiding my hips with his other palm.

i clutched onto my vodka cran, following the rhythm ii was swinging in his hips. we danced to some usher song, sultry and silly. normally, i’d shove him away and cuss him out, make fun of him. but, the alcohol was starting to burn my throat, sending a soothingly loose feeling through my blood. i was relaxed.

the song slowed and we did with it. i rested my heavy body against his, chin on his shoulder. we danced in a circle. i could see vessel, sitting at the bar, burning a hole through ii's head with his eyes. he saw me looking at him and quickly looked away.

i just wanted to walk right up to him and kiss him, mask or no mask. i just wanted him. i didn’t care what he looked like. who he was. because i knew him- i knew him well. i knew when his favorite cat died, i knew that he dropped his sandwich in the first grade and cried on drive home. i knew he preferred tea over coffee, with two sugar cubes, and an exact glug of milk in it.

my mind was racing like crazy. i needed to ground myself or i’d do something i’d regret.

that’s when ii mumbled into my ear, “he wants you so badly.”

i jolted out of my own head space, pulling my chin back from ii’s shoulder to look up at him. “what?”

i was having trouble processing words.

“vess. he’s been pining after you for so long,” ii had a sense of urgency in his eyes. "and he think he's trying to see if he can shoot my head off with his eyes right now."

i peered over his shoulder. vessel was watching us again. he didn’t look away, though i knew he could see.

“fat chance,” i blurted out. “he keeps pushing me away…pining my ass. everytime we have, like, a really good conversations about, like, the stars or some shit, the next day he acts like he barely knows my name.”

ii was patient, just listening as i rambled, surely drunk now. i continued on, “i don’t know, dude. like, if he wanted me he would do something about it, yeah? he’d show me. he’d say something. he’d- he’d just do something. instead he just makes me feel crazy.”

i finished myself off with huff. i downed the rest of my drink and set it on a table close to us. both my fists leaned against ii’s shoulders. i was getting dizzy.

ii squeezed my hip in comfort. he waited a moment, for me to catch my breath, to respond. "it's difficult. being in our position. it's hard to tell who's getting close just to catch a peak. forcing everyone we care about to sign mountains of paperwork just to really know us. to trust that we can stay hidden, though the entire world is just itching to unmask us. i know you know that. i know you understand it. that’s part of the reason why we all get along with you so well. the pressures gone. we can be ourselves- no matter what our names are, what we look like. cause you just don’t care.

“i don’t!” i agreed, punching my fist lazily against ii’s shoulder. “i don’t care who you guys are! because you’re still the same to me. and i trust you. and i love you guys. and i just- but just, why can’t he want me?”

he chuckled, “oh, darling. he does. you know he does. and you know the risk, you know the worry. you push it away because it’s not going to be easy. put your pretty little head to rest. just…let it happen as it happens.”

“i think i’m too drunk to really understand this right now, babe,” i droned on, eyes squinted as if i could understand him better with a blurred gaze.

ii tapped my nose sweetly. he stepped back, glancing over to vessel. “just let it.”

i met vessel’s gaze- invisible to me, but so obvious from the burn on my skin. he stood from his seat, hesitant, yet somehow determined.

i felt my body pulled towards him. we met in the middle. some stupid country song was playing. the bad was emptying. our friends were loud. my breath smelled of alcohol. vessel seemed exhausted.

but, for some reason, this was the night that it would happen.

vessel held out a hand, skin pale yet still stained from the paint. i took it. he waited a moment, as if awaiting my consent. then he guided us to the backdoor of the bar. we were out in an alley, alone.

“i’m sorry, lovey,” he said, once he was settled on his heels in front of me.

i clutched his hand like an anchor. “for what?” my brows furrowed.

he brushed a thumb across my knuckles, “that it’s like this. i…i wish i could love you under different circumstances.”

the word passed by without a second thought, so easily spoken from his lips. i barely noticed it. “it’s okay…it’s-its not your fault, vess.”

“no, it’s just,” he ran his other hand overtop his hat, covering his hair just perfectly. “it’s just that i need you to know that. how i feel about you..” now he danced around the word, “because i need you to know that…but…i can’t go forward with any of it. i can’t follow through with it. and i’m so sorry. i just…can’t.”

i slid my hand up to his cheek. he nearly crumbled under my touch. my fingers touched the edge of his sunglasses. he didn’t move. he didn’t try to stop me as i slid the glasses off his nose. i knew those eyes well- i was grateful to see them, even in this dark lighting. i could read him better, i could see his soul.

“i’ll sign whatever you want me to sign.”

the words lingered between us as he processed them. then, he denied them, “lovey…i-“

“i’ll sign a million nda’s. i’ll sign away my life. i’ll- i’ll delete all of my social media. and i’ll wear a mask, too. i’ll step into the darkness with you, vess. i’d do it. i want to do it.”

“lovey, please, i can’t-“

“i can. if you can’t, i can. i can for the both of us.”

vessel dropped his chin, looking away from me. “i can’t ask you to do that for me. beside, you- you don’t even know what i look like. i’m- i’m probably not what you’d want. you can’t love someone you think is ugly. i don’t know, lovey.”

“i do know, vess,” i quickly replied. “i know. i know you. i know your soul. it doesn’t matter to me what you look like, or who you are. cause i know your heart. and that’s all that matters to me. besides, i can’t go on hiding- knowing that we love each other. i just can’t. i won’t allow it.”

vessel met my eyes again. he removed his hand from my own. his hand hung by his thigh, clenching into a fist. it shook. i was worried he’d walk away.

but, after his hesitation softened, he reached his hands up to his face. he tugged the medical mask off of his ears, revealing his familiar lips and smile to me. his nose was new, a feature i’d never seen. but, it was just a nose.

he took off his hat, too, revealing his entire complexion to me. i grinned in response, barely even getting a good luck at him because i really didn’t care.

“that changed nothing for me,” i grasped at his hands. “i feel the same. i feel- the same. maybe better, knowing that you trust me. but- the same. i still want you- i need you, vess…please. i know you need me, too. i’ve always seen it in your eyes. just…take a chance. come out of the darkness…for me. please.”

vessel slid his hands up my arms, slowly, brushing my hair over my shoulders as he passed. his fingertips tickled my neck, the lobes of my ears, until he cupped my cheeks. i leaned into his touch, eyes alight with abounding adoration. he tilted his head down, brilliantly colored eyes boring into my own.

and then he kissed me.

[pariahsparadise]

Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-

JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3

nav. | m.list

a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.

pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

"What are you doing here?"

JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.

"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.

"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."

JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.

Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.

But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.

He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.

Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.

"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.

Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.

"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.

"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"

"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.

Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.

JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.

"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.

"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.

"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"

"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."

Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."

You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."

"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.

"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.

"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.

"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.

"What-no. Where will you sleep?"

"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."

JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.

"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."

"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."

And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.

He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.

[anniebeckcalla]

𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘴 𝘶𝘱! ※。.:*:

╰┈➤ ...cooking with the dreamies

style: 3rd person, non-idol au wc:N/A cw: fluff, slight ooc [haechan's one isn't really about cooking]

calla's note: thanks for supporting my blog guys, you're awesome

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦

he saw a cooking hack for ramen on xhs and now wants to try it. you want to join in on the fun, but chenle won't hear of it. he wants to have a chance to show you how good he is at providing for you. the recipe has something to do with a stove, cheese, and buldak noodles - pretty straightforward. you wish that you were cooking with him, but you decide to sit back and let him do all the work. big mistake. when chenle serves up the dish, you realise that he accidentally put sugar instead of salt in the food, making it a very odd experience. when you look up at him, though, he looks so hopeful that you decide to pretend that you're enjoying the meal. it's his first time here, after all.

𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘰

after finding a recipe for bento cakes, you and jeno decided to make one for each other. you can't take anything seriously, and you laugh endlessly as you spill the ingredients and get the cake batter all over your apron and face. however, jeno takes the activity very seriously, measuring the ingredients with precision and cleaning up after every little spillage. when you put your cakes in the oven, jeno is careful to make sure that the temperature and timing are perfect. as you ice the cakes, your silliness devolves into frustration when your cake decoration looks like a sloppy mess. jeno's cake, of course, looks too beautiful to eat. it's okay, though. he's quick to help you with your cake and wordlessly clears up all the mess you made. the cakes are delicious, of course.

𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘯

you and renjun make biscuits (americans, these are sugar cookies) to take with you on a picnic. you suggest making chocolate chip, but renjun wants to add…interesting ingredients, such as lavender and dried strawberries. you allow renjun to take the lead, even if you don't feel very pleased about it deep inside. renjun wants you both to be involved in making the biscuits, and so he encourages you to take the lead in various steps during the baking- measuring the ingredients, chopping the dried herbs and fruit, cutting the shapes of the dough. you start to feel like you're having fun, but as the biscuits bake in the oven, rain starts to fall on the window. you're distraught, but renjun is quick to put a happy spin on the situation. instead, you eat the biscuits with tea in front of the television, and even if they're different, they're very delicious.

𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯

haechan is taking the lead in cooking- why wouldn't he? he's operating the barbecue at the party that your friend is holding. haechan smirks at you as he flips the juicy meat patties, making sure that he cooks one of them extra well just for you. he places it inside a nice fluffy bun, spooning on just the right amount of garnish, sauce, and cheese, handing you your burger with an ice cold can. “Hey,” shouts another party goer, “why isn't my burger nice like that too?” haechan smiles. “it's for the special people only,” he replies, winking at you.

𝘫𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯

you and jaemin had happily started out making pizzas. one cheese, one hawaiian, and one pepperoni. if there was any dough left over, you'd make a stuffed crust pizza to go with it, too.

that was two hours ago.

now you and jaemin stand in the middle of the kitchen, covered in flour, pots piled high in the sink, and the charred remains of what once were pizzas on the worktop. (jaemin had set the temperature too high.) jaemin taps on his phone, his smile growing. “what are you laughing at?” you snap. jaemin looks up. “i'm getting us some real pizza,” he says. “i’m not eating that homemade coal over there.” you roll your eyes. “what about the dishes?” jaemin stacks a huge pile of pots. “I'll find a way to fit them in the dishwasher.” you sigh, but you're so tired out with your failed attempts at cooking that you decide not to argue.

𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬

“will you look at that!” mark pulls the macaroni cheese out of the oven, golden and bubbling with perfection. you glance at him and feel yourself blushing at how perfect he looks with a tea towel slung over his shoulder, his hair brushed back, and his glasses fogged up from the steam. with a brawny arm, he ladles the macaroni onto two plates along witb some pre-prepared cornbread. you stare down at the food lovingly. it's perfect. what's better is that it's made out of love by the both of you. “can you get some drinking glasses for us, please?” mark takes off his glasses and rubs the lenses with the tea towel. without hesitation, you go to the cupboard and reach up to the glasses, but then you laugh as mark comes up behind you and encircles your waist with his strong arms, pressing kisses into your nape. this meal is definitely going to be a fun one.

𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨

jisung places his hands on your shoulders, eyes pleading. “please can we cook, y/n? i'm begging you.” you stepped out of his grip. “i told you, no. have a good think about what happened last time we cooked.” jisung paused, and his face turned into a guilty scowl. last time you two had been in the kitchen, (making mochi) you had ended up shouting nasty things at each other (jisung actually managed to make you cry) ruining your best pan (it had to go in the bin) and giving yourselves food poisoning (you had spent the following day in amu.)

“i’m sorry, y/n,” jisung said. “we can make it better this time.” you shook your head. your weren't taking chances. “okay, how about we do something simple like ramen?” jisung held his hands out. you considered it. ramen sounded like a good idea, and you were quite hungry. “if you're mean at all, i’ll launch you out of the window,” you promised, allowing jisung to pull you to the kitchen.

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @jeonghansshitester @pl4netx1a @herjaemin

masterlist

[elfwitchtrickster]

Magic show - Loki fluff oneshot

Summary: Loki has a major crush the quiet reader but doesn't know how to get close to you. So he gathers the avengers for a faux magic show where he ‘accidentally’ handcuffs the two of you together, forcing you to spend time with him.

Loki stared at her H/C locks lovingly from across the room. Ever since Y/N had stepped foot into the compound she had intrigued the God of Mischief. While he did not see her often as their missions rarely overlapped, he bubbled with excitement every time he saw her making her morning coffee or relaxing with the other avengers. He had only spoken to her twice, once their first hello upon meeting in the hall and second when she accidentally dropped a stack of files and he was kind enough to help her pick them up.

She seemed rather quiet when talking to others and he was unsure how he to befriend her.Over the past few weeks he had generated many strategies to get Y/N to talk to him. Deciding that life or death, escape situations probably weren't the best environment for their first full conversation, Loki opted for his next devious plan.

He watched Y/N take a seat next to Wanda on the large couch in the avengers living room and tried to hide his smirk. "Welcome" he announced. “To the God of Mischief's magic show" he said using his magic to write his title in the air with sparks. "Okay what are you planning Reindeer Games, if this compound ends up in flames, I swear to-" "Relax my metal acquaintance, your compound will remain safe and sound, as will all of you" Loki cut Tony off with a smile. The other Avengers still looked skeptical, save Peter, Vision and Y/N. His eyes softened, noticing that the girl was not scared of him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y is Reindeer Games gonna ruin my compound" Tony spoke aloud. "I detect no sign of malicious or deceitful behaviour sir" the assistant announced to the room. "Very well" Stark muttered, leaning back into the couch. Loki smirked as he continued with his act.

He performed a few rudimentary tricks first, then using his magic to conjure some impressive illusions. "For my finale I will need a volunteer" he said, looking out at all the others. He purposefully used his magic to steal Peter's voice in fear that the spider boy would take Y/N's place. "I'll do it" her tentative voice was music to his ears. He bowed deeply, ushering her onto his makeshift stage. "This next trick is an escape illusion, where I will magically free Y/N and I from these, without a key" he said clamping the handcuffs shut on his and Y/N's wrists. He had conjured the cuffs himself, strategically crafting them without key holes and making them strong enough to be almost unbreakable.

"As you can see, they are quite secure" he said lifting his wrist and pulling Y/N's arm up with him. "And now, I shall release from this-" he pretended to stop talking out of panic, as he jerked his wrist, feigning an attempt to get out off the cuffs. He chuckled lightly "Just a moment" he turned around and rapidly fumbled with the metal chains, faking a desperate wrestle with the handcuffs. "Why is it not working" he mumbled.

"You okay there Loki?" Steve asked in a concerned tone. "Quite alright thank you" he snipped. He continued with his sham until finally he dropped the cuffs in defeat. He turned around with a sheepish smile "So um it seems the handcuffs are temporarily stuck" he said. The other avengers broke into yells of indignation yet to his joy, Y/N did not seem as perturbed.

"What did you do, swallow the key?" Bucky asked sarcastically. "There is no keyhole" Loki replied "true magic is a high stakes endeavour"

He answered Bucky's unanswered question and held his chin high. "Can we break it?" Thor asked, and Loki rolled his eyes at his brother's typical violent solution. "I sincerely doubt it" he said. "Okay you know what, Banner and I will go down to the lab and see if we can find a way to crack these" Tony said getting up from his seat and nudging Bruce. "Until then, looks like you're stuck with Reindeer Games" he said to Y/N. She didn't respond and Loki waited for the heroes to clear out before he spoke to her.

"I apologise Lady Y/N, I truly did not mean to get you stuck with me" he said. After all Loki's time in Asgard, he knew the key to making any women melt, was being a gentleman. "That's okay, it might be fun" she replied. He was delighted to learn she wasn't opposed to spending time with him. No one said anything for a moment, Loki silently gestured her towards the couch.

They sat in awkward silence for a while before Y/N spoke up "I'm kinda hungry" she said. "We can get a snack from Stark's cupboard" Loki said. "Or we could make something" she countered with a smile. "What do you propose?" He questioned. She smiled wider and jerked him up, speeding to the kitchen. She began placing trays, bowls and ingredients on the kitchen island, pulling Loki's hand along with hers. "We are gonna make cookies!" She said clapping her hands together. "Interesting what type?" He asked peering over at the food. "Chocolate chip" she said, laying out sheets of baking paper on a tray.

She instructed Loki to put baking soda and salt into a bowl while she fought with the jar of flour, struggling to open the lid. It popped open unexpectedly and a puff of white  flour enveloped the god. When the cloud cleared, Loki was left with an irritated expression on his face. The flour had settled in his hair making him look like he aged twenty years. Y/N's hand flew to her mouth as she failed to contain her laugh. She doubled over as she looked at the usually majestic god, covered in baking flour.

It was if her giggles were magical because Loki could not hide the smirk growing on his face. "Oh you think that's funny?" He said, raising an eyebrow. Y/N was too busy laughing to answer. As she tried to catch her breath, Loki dipped his hand into the bag and threw a handful of flour over her bent figure. Her smile was quickly replaced with shock and she let out a gasp. But Y/N was not one to back down, she grabbed a pile, flinging it in Loki's face, making him spit out white smoke. She reached for another handful but the bag disappeared, resurfacing in Loki's grasp.

Thankfully it was in the hand that was chained to Y/N so she could easily steal it back. Loki switched the soft weapon to his other hand and lifted it high into the air. She groaned in frustration, jumping to reach it. On her third jump she knocked over the cookie tray sending it flying into her and Loki. They fell back against the counter and Loki dropped the bag. In an instant, they were both painted in white powder, when they turned to face each other they burst out laughing. "You- you look like an old man" Y/N said between giggles. "I could say the same about you" Loki quipped earning him a slap on the arm.

Coincidentally, they both leaned down to grab the tray and their noses bumped together. Loki chuckled as he helped his flour covered baking partner up. Now standing, Y/N realised how close they were together. Her chest brushed his and she could feel the hotness of his breath. She reached up to dust a bit of flour off his eyelash but then withdrew it, embarrassed. "Sorry" she muttered but before she could move away, he gently clutched her hand. "It's quite alright" he said sincerely, dusting her shoulder to make her feel more comfortable. She smiled up at the god in silent thanks.

Once Loki had used his magic to clean up the kitchen they successfully managed to get the cookies in the oven without any mess. As they waited for them to bake, they sat on top of the island. "You know, when Thor and I were little we used to sneak into the kitchens at night to steal cookies" he said with a fond smile.

"Really?" Y/N laughed. "Yes, in fact we did it every time we had guests because they always made the best cookies for the guests" he said. "We got caught a lot, Thor would just run in and grab as many as he could, whereas I would use more stealthy approach" he said shaking his head amusedly. "But once we became teenagers our midnight escapades stopped" he said with a hint of sadness. "It's nice to have someone to share cookies with again" he said, looking at her with a warm gaze. His blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light, Y/N found herself staring at them longer than she should have.

She reached into the oven, dragging Loki's hand with her. She shut it and a rush of warm air hit her, permeating the kitchen with the smell of freshly baked cookies. "I bet my cookies are better than the ones in Asgard" she said cockily. "Oh do you?" Loki asked, his signature smirk creeping onto his face. "See for yourself" she said carefully sliding one of the cookies off the tray. To her surprise Loki was not startled by the hot crust.

He took a large bite, chewing slowly and carefully. He nodded thoughtfully as he swallowed "It is hard to admit but you may be right" he said savouring the sweet taste that lingered in his mouth. She took a bite too, sighing happily as the chocolate chips melted in her mouth. She leant against the counter, munching on their creation. On the corner of her lips, a bit of chocolate was smudged so Loki took it upon himself to wipe it. He stepped closer to Y/N, rubbing his thumb along her lips and wiping it on a tissue behind her.

She was now trapped between Loki and the counter, yet she wasn't complaining in the slightest. Her breathing grew heavy as Loki's head tilted towards her. Her eyes fluttered close as his lips pressed against her. His fingers danced across her cheeks and he pulled her closer to him by her waist. The kiss grew deeper, as he revelled in the sweetness of her chocolate tongue. A sensation even warmer than her cookies spread through him and he got lost in her kiss.

Reluctantly he pulled apart, not daring to break eye contact. Y/N's eyes were glazed and she had a goofy smile on her face. "I guess you really liked the cookies" she said with a small laugh. His hand dropped to hold the one that was chained to hers, "actually I prefer the baker" he said, leaning in for another impossibly sweet kiss.

An hour later the cookies were almost completely eaten, all that was left was a plate full of crumbs next to the couch. There, Y/N lay between Loki's arms as he told her about the last book he had read. In between sentences Y/N would place little kisses on his jaw, turning Loki a brighter shade of pink each time.

Just as he leaned in for another kiss, the sound of footsteps came from beside the couch. "Whoa, what's going on here?" Tony asked in disbelief. Y/N attempted to sit up, mortified at the situation she had been found in, but Loki pushed her down by the chest. "You are the last one that should criticise public demonstrations of affection" Loki said coolly. "Fair enough" he answered, kneeling down beside the pair.

"Give" Stark said, motioning for their handcuffs. Holding it above the floor, Loki poured a bright purple liquid onto the chain. It sizzled and bubbled but did not even scratch the silver metal. Stark let out a howl of frustration, tossing the empty vial behind him. Loki was bemused. watching the man."No matter" he said calmly, waving his hands and the cuffs disintegrated in a burst of green sparks. "Wha- how?" Y/N stuttered. "It served its purpose" he said pressing a kiss to her forehead. She looked at him in confusion for a second. Then "LOKI" she yelled, but the god only laughed.

[wileys-russo]

Can I request one with Leah boyfriend vibes where she's like an annoying teenage boyfriend to the point where we get really mad at her and she gets super soft until we're all right back and then she just goes back to annoying us like always

I feel like that's literally Leah. That cocky smile does things to me

I really love your work 🫶🥹

teenage love II l.williamson

"honey i'm hoome!" you heard your girlfriend sing out sarcastically as her keys jingled in the front door. "hi baby." you greeted happily, the girl dropping her kit bag by the front door. "oh leah get off you're all sweaty!" you whined in disgust as she wrapped you in a hug, just having finished training for the day.

"training went really really well, thank you for asking baby that's so kind of you to care how my career is going." the taller girl sighed dramatically, refusing to loosen her grip on you as you struggled to get away. "go have a shower." you finally pulled away, shoving her off you as the blonde only grinned.

"you secretly love it." she blew you a kiss and a sharp slap echoed around the room as she smacked your bum before jogging upstairs before you could tell her off for it.

with a roll of your eyes you disapeared back into the laundry, folding your girlfriends clean washing and humming along to the song playing from your phone tucked in your back pocket. you didn't hear leah return however a pile of dirty clothes landing on your head certainly alerted you to her presence.

"seriously?" you turned quickly with a glare and yanked them off, throwing them at her in distaste as she only gave you a cheeky smile and moved next to you to load them into the machine.

"you're so annoying." you grumbled under your breath, smacking her hands away as they poked at your side and she was momentarily distracted by fiddling around with the settings of the washer.

"oh my god move i'll do it." you sighed in frustration, pushing her to the side and setting up the machine, clicking for it to began the cycle, glaring at the blonde over your shoulder as she once again smacked your bum with a cheeky smile.

"even though i know that you know how to use the washer." you warned her as she pulled herself to sit up on the dryer, well aware leah only pretended not to know how to do things knowing you'd just take over and do them for her.

"excuse me babe i don't take lightly to these heinous accusations." the blonde gasped, clutching a hand to her chest as you ignored her and went back to folding her clean clothes.

"don't." you warned as your girlfriend kicked you lightly from behind, swinging her long legs as she remained perched on the dryer with a grin. you bit your tongue as she did it again and again, hoping she'd get bored and leave if you just ignored her, which usually worked since she had the attention span about as long as a blink.

you got your wish as she hopped down from the dryer, kissing your cheek sweetly as she passed by. though the nice moment was ruined as she pushed over the neatly folded stack of clothes, sprinting out of the room as they toppled to the floor.

"leah!" you yelled after her, dragging your hands down your face with a groan. "honestly and she's supposed to be older?" you muttered to yourself with a huff as you shoved her clean clothes into a basket.

"here's your clothes and your kit for tomorrow, fold them or leave them on the floor. i don't care!" you dumped the basket upside down beside the blonde on the lounge. "oh these are so warm, how did you know i was cold?" the taller girl made a point to lay down among the pile of clothes with a content sigh.

you bit the inside of your cheek as she smiled at you smugly, turning on heel and walking away, determined not to give her the satisfaction of your annoyance, you could swear she was a sixteen year old teenage boy and not a twenty six year old woman.

how she could switch from being so serious and stone faced on the pitch to sometimes the most infuriatingly immature human being you've ever met was a mystery you were yet to solve. she was lucky she was so annoyingly attractive and you were so in love with her or else you may have covered up her murder by now.

having a rare moment of peace you put away your own clean clothes in the bedroom, hearing the occasional pelt of your girlfriends laughter from downstairs as she entertained herself with a movie.

with a sigh you put away the trainers she'd tossed around the room when trying to decide which pair to wear today, full well knowing it would be you who tripped over them in three days time when they were still there.

you let out a loud scream as the tall blonde zapped you in the ribs from behind, you'd not even heard her come up. "don't do that!" you breathed out shakily, shoving her away with a glare. "i'm sorryyy." she sung out, pulling you into a hug as you kept your arms by your side.

"oh baby you've forgotten how to hug. well look we get these, and we put them here-" the girl grabbed your wrists, wrapping your arms around her back. "and then we squeeze!" you yelped as she suddenly picked you up off the ground, forcing you to cling onto her tightly.

"-and thats how you hug, you're welcome." the girl smirked, her hands gripping your thighs holding you up.

"you're insufferable you know that?"

~

"oo can i have a sandwich please babe?" you asked politely as your girlfriend returned to her spot beside you on the lounge, your errands for the day finally done meaning you could relax.

"sure. the bread is over there, and the ham is in the fridge." leah answered with a mouthful of food, pointing over her shoulder, eyes zoned in on the tv as you scoffed. "you're literally the worst." you smacked her leg hard and stood to your feet.

"oh thank you." your own sandwich that you made was snatched from your hand as you sat back down, leah taking a large bite as you stared at the smirking blonde in disbelief. you launched yourself at her as she laughed and held it out of reach, easily a good foot or two taller than you were.

"do you really want to do this? you know i'll win." leah grinned as you tried to grab your food back, climbing practically on top of her. "gimme it! god you're so annoying!" you grunted, leah taking another bite of the sandwich to spite you as she pushed you easily away with her free hand.

"leah!" you glared as she pressed her foot to your chest, long legs holding you off as she continued to eat your sandwich. "okay i have had enough!" you snapped, shooting to your feet as your girlfriend took the final bite, making a point to lick her fingers clean.

"you are always going out of your way to wind me up, you purposefully do the most basic tasks wrong so that i have to do them, you can't pick up after yourself, i do all the cooking and the cleaning, you lick your fucking finger and shove it in my ear, you-" you continued to rant, leah simply watching you with a cocky smile and her arms folded over her chest, man spreading arrogantly as she always did.

"what the fuck are you smiling at?" you spat, face twisted into a murderous glare with your fists balled by your sides. "you, you're just so gorgeous." she complimented, taking you off guard a little as you came down to earth, un-clenching your hands and taking a deep breath.

"come here." the blonde chuckled, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and tugging you to sit on her lap. "i love you so very much my girl, and i appreciate everything you do for me. it doesn't go unnoticed and i'll make more of an effort to help out." leah spoke, rarely serious for once as you nodded.

"that would be nice, thank you." "but not all the time...you look way too fit when you're pissed off with me." "god you are annoying."