#so good to know I wasn't the only one who thought she'd keep it

[atangledfate]

All Sonic could see in that moment was red, and that anger was bubbling up like geyser ready to blow. He didn't have much in this world that he cared for, and he knew Amy was a tough girl. But seeing her like that just flipped a switch for him. Maybe it was that curse that linked him to her, or maybe was just his own protective nature as a guardian of his world. He didn't know but he'd never felt such a desire to put someone in the ground. Even despite the fact that he was hyper aware Surge was trying to prevent him from making a huge mistake. It didn't really register completely.

He grit his teeth and leaned in close to Surge and was seconds from speaking, telling her where she could shove her worries. If she knew Abe like he did, if she had any idea of all the awful things he was party to. She'd have wanted to put him in the ground to. GUN drove Gerald mad, tossed shadow in a damn stasis pod, killed maria in cold blood and so much more! there was alot they would never atone for in Sonic's eyes---all of this was just another drop in the bucket.

" Talkin' ain't ever gonna be GUN's language! I am so sick of tryin' to talk with those people! they only language they get is force, so i'm just gonna speak there language!?! "

He had no qualms busting Surge's face wide open to get to them either! Luckily Tails voice was perhaps the one he needed to hear most, mostly because of how close they were. But despite that it didn't make him less angry, it just made him bury it again and hide away like he always did. When he thought about it, he was kind of a coward wasnt he? always hiding, always tucking his tail and running from all that pent up aggression.

Surge could see his hostility ebb away, it was likely the first time she'd seen him so worked up. Yes he did care for Amy, like he cared for Tails, and anyone who threatened them was on his shit list!

" ... Mark my words, they ain't here to talk Surge... those bastards are a bunch of child killin' life ruinin' sacks of absolute shit. I'll play nice... but the moment i find out Abe was behind Amy's attack... the gloves are off... i ain't puttin' that to the side. You'd do the same if it was Kit... "

He looked away from her to the airship that was just within sight of them now.

" They ain't here to help... you an i both know it... this is gonna be us vs them... i'll wait... and i keep my promises. So you can relax... "

He was still very obviously pissed off, and only holding back for the time being. One wrong move by GUN was likely to set his ass off. But he knew if GUN had his way they'd lock them both up for sure. His eyes went to Surge though and narrowed as he realized something important and, as he needed some way to direct his anger he snapped at her instead.

" and YOU need to tell him the damn truth! because i sure as fuck ain't gonna explain it to him. Do you think for a moment he'd listen to me or tails anyway? You need to tell him, and soon..."

===============================================

Tails wasn't sure if it was Belle in control or an auto pilot in truth it was hard to tell. But he was pretty impressed by the over all craftsmanship of the bot. It was impressive and showed how far she'd come! He was always impressed by her work, and it was proof in his mind that Eggman's bots could do good given the right program and incentive.

" And who do you think designed the artificial Chaos? Doctor Gerald Robotnik... Eggman's grandfather. Lots of Eggman's technology was inspired by Gerald, even if Gerald's intentions were pure... alot of his tech was turned into weapons for GUN or worse... locked up for being to dangerous. But i guess you know more about it then i do... just hard not to see the similarities "

Tails had been working the entire time he was talking. He connected the satellite to the Belle Bot which gave her access to the eye in the sky. This also allowed her to interface with the restoration com network fully, and reconnect the broken bits from the EMP with the satellites network.

" I got it, i do hope Belle doesn't mind me using the belle Bot as a relay... but, that should reconnect Restoration communications. Also you should be able to use the belle bot's signal to connect to the satellite using it as a proxy. That should limit any risk to your own equipment... "

Not that there was any risk to begin with, but he hoped it quelled Kit's paranoia.

" I... know i probably shouldn't even say anything. But... I'm Sorry you know, for everything that's happened... Deep down i guess i just want to find some middle ground for you and I... I just want us to be able to talk ... work this all out somehow. "

He sighed and gave Kit a side glance with one of his ears falling over

" When this is over... do you think... we can talk? Not asking for anything else... just a chance for us to talk, "

Surge scowls at Sonic, her lightning changing dark red as her strength seemed to double, maybe even more as she held him in place. The tenrec then punched the wall right next to the hedgehog's head, easily cracking it deeply which traveled high up the wall. "Yeah, because you look like in such a talkative mood right now. Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I know everything about you, remember?" A face the speedster still hated, though it was the truth.

"Don't think I've been sitting on my ass all this time with The Restoration. I've been training and have a bunch of new skills so if you think you can just fight me off easily then you're dead wrong." Surge figured a long time ago Sonic never took their first fights too seriously, attempting to talk her down. Things were different this time around with abilities she's unlocked.

Surge ear twitches hearing Tails on the intercom attempting to talk Sonic down as well. "You also promised me something, and I expect you to keep it. Can't do that if you get thrown in a GUN cell with me." The tenrec was sure she wouldn't be getting your average cell, though not the time to think about that.

Surge finally let Sonic go, hoping he had calmed down enough to not sprint off again. "You want to thrash whoever is behind this after, then fine. Though I'm not failing him again, and I'm not letting you fail him. Is that clear?" The only person she trusted with that was Sonic by this point, and wasn't going to have him fuck that up. "And if you do fail him then I'm going to break every fucking bone in your body."

===========================================================

"Belle isn't controlling Belle Bot right now. It's most likely just running off basic functions as it's still in the early stages. That said, it is combat ready so if need be it'll go into on the offensive and I don't think GUN will have a fun time." Kitsunami was sure it could tear through several GUN squads without slowing down if need be.

"No, Starline was completely obsessive with only using Eggtech for my hydro-pack even when there were moments where getting GUN tech would've made it easier than rebuilding parts from Eggtech scraps." Even to the bitter end Starline was obsessed with Eggman. "Though I've since upgraded to be all custom parts working out and Eggtech. I also stayed away from GUN tech." Not worth the risk of them realizing he had stolen some of their tech.

"Try to hook up the coms to something portable so we can hurry on to my room. As much as I'd prefer to do this on my own I have no clue about GUN firewalls. Don't get the wrong idea, this is just to help Surge as best as I can." Kitsunami still seemed more worried about helping Surge than anything else, despite Starline being gone for so long.

[laugtherhyena]

Sometimes i think about how Ayame's hair is really long in her adult design,,

I like to think that with everyone joining the foundation and the tragedy still going wild out there, during the first like 6 months to an year after escaping the kg (an adaptation period of sorts?) Ayame got so busy with missions and training that a lot of other things became a blur. She didn't even notice how long her hair was getting until someone else pointed it out, and by that point she decides to just leave it be.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

Young Old Things

I like the thought of a deaged Dan causing a misunderstanding between Danny, Vlad, and the batfam.

TW: sexual assault hinted at

....

Danny, Dan, and Ellie go to see Jazz in Gotham. They've been waiting to "visit" her for weeks since she moved out. Only waiting for her to get a big enough place for all of them. Danny already said he'd share a room with Ellie and Dan, especially now that they found out if she is her true age she'll start to stabilize more permanently with Danny's ecto. Plus, having Dan be the same size helps, or so she says (he might be desperate for a new family and Ellie is trying to help, Danny and Jazz never bring it up in front of him).

The Fenton parents don't know about Danny being Phantom, instead believing that some big ghostly event caused Danny to have a ghost daughter.

And that he tried to clone himself mixed with a ghost to use that body to stabilize her. They may be proud of their scientist son, they are not proud that he won't let them experiment on his ghostly "creations".

Of course they are entirely wrong:

Ellie is one of Vlads' attempts to clone him, the only one that survived.

And Dan is an amalgamation of Danny and Vlad from an alternate timeline. He doesn't know why he's keeping that from his parents. He owes nothing to that scumbag, but Jazz says many victims try to keep their abusers safe from facing consequences. Before Dan was deaged, and much before he met the Fenton parents, he'd pointed out that he'd be scared who his parents would have chosen to believe too.

Jazz gets a full ride scholarship with Gotham U, the Wayne's new massive donation to the psychology department, as well as her well written letter about being the head of her home, helped immensely.

She felt bad using a slightly blurred version of their story to get a good scholarship, but Danny pushed her to go for it.

Hence her, Danny and his 3 year old "twins" were at a gala for the university.

It was being held in the museum after closing hours. The invitation she got had specified that her brother was invited, each with a plus one.

They couldn't exactly get a babysitter for two super-powered toddlers in the city known for hating metas. Besides it wasn't like they had time to get dates anyway.

The night started out fine. There were scholarship students, student council members, some Gotham U staff, and a few rich folk mingling and eating tiny foods that both Ellie and Dan adored.

Ellie fell asleep in Danny's arms almost the second she'd finished eating, and Dan was overly protective of the both of them as always. Of course the dense crowd and constant noise wasn't helping calm him down.

A Wayne, he wasn't sure which one exactly, had brought Danny a plate of food and sat with him as he tried to distract Dan. At first Dan didn't care for him at all, but he mentioned reading about the constellation on Dan's shirt and he loosened up. He never let go of Danny's pant leg though.

The night turned sour when all three's ghost sense went off. There was no immediate threat, but even the Wayne kid noticed them tense and turned to the hallway.

Dan was the first to spot him. "Vad."

"Bad?" The man mimicked.

"He has trouble with his Ls."

"No! I can say Ellie." Dan huffed, poking the side of her sparkly green shoe.

"Vlad, the guy that walked in." Danny said, decidedly looking down into his daughter's sleeping face, squished into his shirt and drooling.

"Vladimir Masters?"

He nodded, before he could continue however Dan spoke up.

"He is bad. He's the reason I was born. And Ellie too." Dan put himself in front of Danny, his little legs going over Danny's feet like a guard dog.

He could see the Wayne's hands tighten into fists, he tapped the inside of his wrist a bit and watched as he squirmed in his seat.

"Hey, Tim." Another dark haired light eyed Wayne and a girl came up to them. "Who's this?"

"Danny, these are my sibilings. Dick and Cass. Guys, this is Danny."

"Hi, nice to meet you Danny. I'd shake your hand but it looks busy." He gestured towards Ellie. As his hand swept nearer, Dan tried to swipe it away. "Oh, and who's this."

"I'm Dan. You can't touch Mommy." His little face contorted into his best toddler attempt at scaring them off.

"I would never do that. No one here would." Dick said as he crouched down to be eye level with his son.

"He would." Dan pointed at Vlad, all three turned to look at the man. Before anyone else noticed, specifically Vlad himself, Danny pushed his arm down.

"Don't point, it's rude."

"He's a rude butt." Danny laughed softly and Dan continued. "It doesn't mater that I'm half of him, I'll never be evil like him." He yawned and laid his face on Danny's leg.

"I think that's enough signs that we should head home. Thank you for talking with me, Tim."

"No problem, it was m-"

Dan grabbed around Danny's legs and whined "I don't wanna gooOOOooo. I want more of the tiny hot dogs."

Danny looked up to see Vlad infront of the food table. The Wayne sibilings followed his gaze "I'm sorry buddy, but-"

Tim stood up, "I'll get you guys a whole mountain of the tiny hot dogs. Why don't you guys wait for me at the door." Ever so softly he heard Tim whisper, "Go with them." To his brother.

"Where are your things? I'll help you get ready." Dick looked around like he didn't know where the coat closet was. He'd probably been to events like this hundreds of times, but Danny appreciated the sentiment.

"Their stroller is at the entrance, I have to get my sister though."

The girl who hadn't said a word hummed and went off, "Cass can find her, I'll help you and we can meet at the entrance."

"Alright, thank you."

It wasn't until they had both kids in the stroller with their coats on and Dan had a bottle of milk (with a lot of ectoplasm in it) that Danny realized he'd never mentioned who his sister was.

Dick waved towrds the end of the hall and saw his sister and the two Waynes he'd met walking with Brucie Wayne himself.

Jazz looked down and pat Cass' hand. "Thank you for getting me."

"Danger." Her voice was soft, but she didn't seem shy like he had expected.

"All four of you seemed to get along well with my kids. Would you like to come by for dinner next week?" Brucie asked as he looked between the four of them.

"I'd love to!" Jazz said enthusiastically. "Would Tuesday ight work?"

Danny could see the gears start to speed up in her head and he huffed a little. "Jazz, I need to get them in bed."

"Right, of course. Thank you again, for everything."

"Tuesday night works perfectly," Brucie Wayne said with a massive smile on his face, "we'll send someone to pick you up. Have a good night."

With that they walked down the ramp and down a few blocks to their two bed room apartment.

"Jazz," She looked over to Danny, "I think they know more than they are letting on."

She lent over the stroller a bit to check if the kids were asleep, before adding, "I agree, I think there is something up with them, but I don't think they're bad."

"Dan was okay with them mostly, and Ellie was fast asleep even with then around."

"I guess we'll just have to find out, then. Besides, it would be good for you to make friends your age and not at the car shop."

"Yeah, alright."

[ceesimz]

when we two parted

part two here!

This fic is based off the poem When We Two Parted (hence the name, and see a section of it above) as well as a song called Strange by Celeste. I think this fic is a result of the romcom movie marathon i did last week whilst recovering from concussion so make of that what you will. If it's wanted, I can do a part two!

A house party in Menorca was hardly a place to fall in love. Or so Alexia thought.

To some, the end of the season was a welcome break to completely switch off and relish in their life outside of football. For others, or rather, for just one, it wasn't a very enjoyable time, more of a nuisance really. But when Alexia had been invited by Mapi to go to Menorca, where the Zaragoza local had escaped to many times before and talked about it for hours on end everytime when she got back, Alexia couldn't say no this time. They'd be joined by a few of their other teammates, but Mapi had informed them that they would be welcomed by her many friends on the small island and invited to enough endeavours to keep them entertained.

That's how Alexia found herself waking up on the sofa of a beautiful Mediterranean house on the second morning of the vacation. The previous night, she'd partied with her teammates and Mapi's friends, having a few drinks here and there but never passing the line of tipsy. But, when the time came to leave, she had no money on her, a dead phone, she couldn't find Mapi or her teammates, and even if she could ask someone to get her back to the villa they were at, she didn't know the address either. Which is why she's waking up on a random couch on an island she doesn't know, now with a working phone thanks to the phone charger she found (and stole) in a drawer beside the sofa.

It was a little before 7am, way too early for any of the people who had drank the night before to be awake, and that's why she was drawn to the kitchen on her way towards the front door.

Coming from the room was quiet, calm music as well as a soft voice singing along. The voice belonged to a woman clearing the counters from the cups and bottles from the previous night, this young someone lost in her own world as she swayed to the melody ringing out. And when she turned a little so that her features were visible to Alexia, the midfielder couldn't help the smile that graced her face.

This unfamiliar woman was beautiful. It was clear to see and simple to say, she was ineffably gorgeous. Alexia didn't recognise her from the previous evening, as much as she tried to piece the night's events together, she couldn't recall meeting her. She stood there for a few silent moments, admiring the woman in front of her. Dressed in running gear, a tan to her skin and a peaceful smile on her face.

But when the woman in question cursed at the sight of Alexia, not expecting anyone to be lingering in the doorway, the Catalan couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

You were deathly embarrassed by the yelp you let out and the reaction you had to the seemingly harmless party-goer some feet away, caught red-handed in a day dream whilst cleaning the kitchen.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in.” You apologised with a grimace, yet the blonde just smiled.

“No, it is okay.” Alexia brushed it off.

The footballer didn’t quite know what to do. She felt drawn to the person across the room from her, but you were complete strangers to each other. The only thing she knew was that, from the few words spoken so far, you spoke English without an accent like she did.

“Um, per- perdóname? Mi español es muy pobre.” You stumbled through the limited Spanish you knew, and it was nothing but endearing to Alexia. “I mean, I can understand it if... if you speak slowly, but…”

“Hablaré más despacio por ti.” Alexia answered, surprising herself. “I can understand English, I am not good at talking.”

“Well, that's us sorted then.”

You internally cursed yourself for being so awkward in the moment, but honestly you weren’t expecting anyone to be up and about at this time, nevermind the most attractive woman on the island. You had no idea who she was, where she came from, or even what her name was, but the intrigue was there and it was burning wildly through you. 

She didn’t seem to mind your awkwardness, instead she met it with some of her own and stood rooted to the ground with the same smile that seemed to only grow bigger the longer this interaction carried on.

“Estas limpiando?” She wondered, stepping a little closer.

“I'm, uh... oh! Yes, I'm cleaning, thought I would get a head start with it.” You gestured loosely to the room before going back to clear the clutter off of the sides again.

“Puedo ayudarte a limpiar, si quieres?” Alexia asked without any second thought, not really sure why she was offering to clean a stranger's house at the crack of dawn. 

She was feeling exactly the same as you did. Confused, but weirdly interested. Alexia was in the same position as you, too; she didn’t know your name, who you were, all that she did know was that you were beautiful and, to her knowledge, frustratingly not from Spain.

“No, that's okay, you're a guest. You're free to go home.” You tried to wave her off, but she wasn’t stepping down so easily.

“No, insisto. Como puedo ayudar?”

Alexia stayed firm in her offer, and before she knew it, she was busying herself with any bit of cleaning she could see. Wiping down the counters, mopping the floors, taking out the trash, she even found herself washing the piles upon piles of dishes that had accumulated. Unbeknownst to the other, you both individually felt like you were caught up in some kind of hallucination, or a fever dream at least. You, stood with the biggest footballer of women’s football (not that you knew that yet), having her clean your friend’s house. Alexia, tidying up at sunrise for a woman she was fastly growing a crush on.

“You are English?” Alexia questioned as she washed her hands, looking over at where her cleaning partner was sorting through a pile of jackets that the party guests had thrown over a loveseat in the corner of the room.

“I am. English and very ashamed at how bad my Spanish is.” You laughed in spite of yourself, pulling a face as you lifted up a random, single high-heel from the never ending pile before dropping it to the ground with a grimace.

“Why?”

“Well, considering I live in Spain and have done for some months now, it should be better than it is. I just have a hard time keeping up with my online lessons.” Hm. She lives in Spain too. Alexia was nothing if not infinitely more intrigued by that new fact. “So, do you live in Menorca? It's a beautiful island.”

“No, Barcelona.”

“Oh, no way!” Alexia looked up at the quick burst of excitement from the person she still didn’t have a name for, chuckling when the woman in question blushed and cleared her throat before speaking. “I live in Barcelona too.”

Alexia's eyebrows shoot up at the new information she had just learnt, a shy smile on her face. She nodded once before turning back to the sink, goosebumps raised on her arms that, when paired with the eruption of butterflies that had just occurred, signified she was in trouble. Rather, her heart was in trouble.

“This house, es muy bonita. Yours?” She steered the conversation away, not wanting to dwell on the sensations flooding her body. She was still talking to a stranger after all.

“No, it's a friend's house, they let me stay for the week and said I could invite people over.”

“Mm. Bueno, gracias por la fiesta, fue divertido. I did not see you?”

“I wasn't at the party, no. My friend María told me she would keep an eye on everything.” Alexia shook her head as she turned to lean back against the counter, her eyes tracking your movements around the room.

“Mapi no está aquí.” She revealed, to which you froze on the spot and groaned.

“That little... ugh. I knew I couldn't trust her.” You complained, cursing under your breath as you threw a beer cap in one of the bins. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. She leaved early.” Alexia grimaced. “Nunca confíes en María cuando se trata de fiestas.”

“Well, I've learnt my lesson now.” You grumbled, Alexia laughing quietly. Quickly glancing around the room, you decided you were happy with its semi-replenished state and stopped to take a breath before turning to face Alexia. “You're friends with María then, I'm guessing? One of the girls she invited?”

“Sí, muy buenas amigas. Demasiado bueno, diría yo.” Alexia said, mumbling the last part in an exasperated tone. You hear it though, and despite it taking a few moments to translate it, you giggle at it.

“I know that feeling. I've known her a while and she still gets under my skin. Like when she abandons her care-taking job for a house that isn't even mine.” You responded, Alexia nodding and chuckling. “I’ll stand her up in the morning so that she can’t go on her beloved boat trip that’s under my name, we’ll see how she likes it.”

“You are on the boat tomorrow?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice that shouldn't have sparked as much excitement in you as it did.

“I am. That's if I don't get arrested for assault before I get there.” You huffed, the woman before you grinning again. “Shouldn't you be getting back to your villa now? I've kept you long enough.”

“Um. I do not know the, uh, dirección.”

“Oh, that's alright. I think I have it, I don’t have my phone on me at the moment but if you grab a pen and paper from beside you then I can write it down.”

“Ah, sí. Gracias.”

Alexia did as she was told and picked a pen from the stationary pot along with a small square of paper from a very organised corner of the kitchen counter. There was a sly grin on Alexia’s face as she handed both items over to you. With pink cheeks that can’t really be excused by the run you went on before you arrived, you jotted down the address of her Airbnb with slightly shaking hands before signing your name along with it too. Then, for reasons you’re not quite sure of, you drew a random, squiggly smiley face beside it. You gave the note to her and waited for her to notice with an even darker shade to your face than before, to which she laughed quietly at the drawing. It was cut short though when she glanced at your name. She said it quietly to herself, before looking back at you and humming.

“Do I get to know your name?” You wondered with a playful smile, head slightly on a tilt and a hopeful glint in your eye.

“Ale.” She said after a moment of brief hesitation. You picked up on it, but were sure she had her reasons, so let it slide.

“Es un placer conocerte, Ale.” You held your hand out and, with a coy smile, Alexia deftly took hold of it and shook it gently.

That handshake, one small and common gesture, was the start of something much bigger than the both of you.

—

You lay in bed that night, a book beside you waiting to be read and the bedside table lamp on, with a question mark lingering over you. It was just after midnight, and despite the luxury of the house and the grand size of it, you’d chosen the smallest bedroom to stay in during your time. No one ever wanted it, it was always the last choice, but it called to you for some reason everytime. Your friend joked that there should be a plaque with your name on it at this point on the door, saying it was your room and yours only. Maybe you pitied it, maybe you knew how it felt. But it’s just a room, the walls aren’t alive no matter how much they speak to you, and as quick as it arrives the thought leaves. 

The question mark that hangs shrinks suddenly, redacting down into your right hand. Your eyes follow it, moving from the ceiling above you to the palm that fuzzes in an attention-seeking nature. It’s the one that had been held so delicately by the woman that had quietly interrupted you that morning, and before you know it there’s a familiar heat to your cheeks that has nothing to do with the late night warmth of the Spanish weather. It does have everything to do with her.

There was still everything that you didn’t know about her. She was from Barcelona, her name was Ale, and you both shared a mutual friend in María. And if you pieced together things you knew about your good friend, there was other information you could gather about Ale too. María played football for Barcelona’s football club, and they were fairly successful. Though you wouldn’t know a thing, you hadn’t been to a game before nor had you even watched one. The only sides of María you know is the laid back, relaxed version that dismisses any talk about football on vacation, and the party animal you had first met. Football wasn’t your thing, and María wasn’t one to force that upon anyone. She kept that separate from you, and the closest you came to being interlinked with the sport was when she invited her teammates along to join your friend group for whatever social occasion she had organised, both here and back home in Barcelona.

So perhaps Ale played football. Or, at least, worked for María’s team. She did look quite athletic, to say the least. That was probably the most polite way to phrase it. Regardless, Alexia had never appeared at any dinners or club night-outs that María had organised, you would remember if she had.

To the world, Alexia was an enigma. She is to you, too, but for entirely different reasons. The world had known her for twelve years as she performed at the highest standard in football, a role model on and off the pitch to every boy and girl, old and young. You had known her for less than twenty-four hours, but you were struck with the sense that knowing her for a lifetime could be a gift untold by any literature.

Your book doesn’t get opened that night. Thoughts of a certain someone are enough to lull you asleep. And some miles away, that very person ends up in the same scenario.

The shy smiles you greeted each other with bright and early the next morning at the boat charter desk subconsciously notifies you both that there are strangely similar butterflies making a home for themselves in your stomachs. 

For the first half of the day, the pair of you don’t really come together again. Rather, you stick with your usual friends, but Alexia would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t drift over towards you any chance she could get. You’re the same though, but when you’re caught out by one of your friends, you deny it with a blush and try to shove Ale to the back of your mind.

Until everyone decides they’re bored of tanning and relaxing, and they all jump into the ocean the second the boat is anchored. You, as someone not entirely comfortable in the water, decided to stick it out for now and stay on the boat. Considering how hot it was, you would have thought everybody would have jumped in to cool down. But not everyone.

“Hola.” A voice said from behind, before they came to lay beside you at the front of the boat.

“Morning. I don’t have any cleaning for you to do, I’m afraid.” You teased, linking your hands together over your eyes to avoid them averting to other places. Oh, and to block the sun too.

“Thank you, señorita.” Alexia grinned, adjusting her sunglasses as she turned to look at you. “Qué tal?”

“I'm very well, thank you. Y tu?” 

“I am good also. You do not like the water?” She wondered, hearing it call her name but when she saw you alone, she couldn't resist.

“Not really.” You replied sheepishly, and the smirk that built on Alexia’s face after that was a little unnerving. “You can get in, if you want. You don’t have to sit here with me.”

“Hm, no. Y si te caes del barco? I will be your… salvavidas.” Before you registered what you were doing, you scoffed and lightly hit her forearm. The Spaniard laughed at your horrified expression afterwards, waving you off before you got the chance to apologise.

“I don’t need a lifeguard on dry land.” You grumbled, crossing your arms petulantly. 

Alexia hummed in amused agreement, and the pair of you fell into comfortable silence. There was far worse company than that of an enticing Spanish woman, whose idea of relaxation was apparently similar to yours. For some time then, she was content to lie beside you in the heat of the sun, her sunglasses and cap keeping her face protected from the UV… and your gaze. 

You tried, albeit not very hard, to keep your eyes on the words of your book in front of you, but every so often they glanced over at Ale. She was the embodiment of peace, with her hands behind her head and a hint of a smile on her lips. It was your intrigue about her that grasped your attention; out of everyone on the boat, all of her close friends and the others she could have chosen to get to know instead, she was here beside you. That didn’t happen to you very often.

Your solitude was something you valued, though it wasn’t entirely out of choice. Things happened, good and very bad, to get you to this point, and it all made you into the person you are now. People rarely ever gravitated to you like Ale had. More often than not, you were just a fly on the wall. And, really, that was why you weren’t at the party the other night. They weren’t your thing, not just because of the noise and chaos, but because you weren’t really a drink and dance kind of person. You were a sunbathe and read person. 

Being a part of the crowd wasn’t something that appealed to you anymore. For years, you had tried to fit in, but after one too many interactions with the worst half of humankind’s people, it was better to stay in your shell. Some days, you pondered if you had just convinced yourself if solitude was the better option as a result of your own failures, or if it was something you genuinely enjoyed. It was a dichotomy that you didn’t often like thinking about too much.

“You are reading.” Alexia stated simply, meeting your eyes when you turned to look at her with a laugh.

“Yes, I am. Congratulations.” You grinned at her, the other woman rolling her eyes.

“You are reading, but the water is there.” She sat up and rested her elbows on her knees as she glanced around at the glassy ocean that stretched on into the horizon. 

“Do you want a medal for that, Captain Obvious?” You replied without looking away from your book, although the words weren’t really registering anymore.

There was a snarky reply on the tip of Alexia’s tongue at that, but now wasn’t the time to spoil the whole facade she had built up around you. To you, she was just Ale, nobody else. Was it wrong for her to want to relish in the ease that brought for her? Possibly. The life you lived was so different to the one she had, it was nice to remember the simplicity that her world once held.

“Do you not read on vacation? There’s no better time to do it.” You continued whilst she got stuck in her thoughts, glancing at her as she stayed silent. With a gentle nudge against her ankle with your foot, you brought her back down from wherever her mind had floated off to.

“Sí, I do. But there is more fun things to do. What is that phrase? Algo sobre el pelo…” She mumbled to herself, with a scowl and a frown as she jogged her memory that you found way too endearing considering the fierceness it possessed.

“Let your hair down?” You provided, giggling when she briskly turned to you and nodded whilst snapping her fingers.

“Sí! Let your hair down, get in the water. Conmigo, juntos.” She tried to transfer some of her excitement over to you, and you hated to admit it, but she was quite convincing.

“I’m alright here. You go, you don’t need me.” Apparently, the Spaniard wasn’t one to back down.

“No, venga, you are coming. The boat has, uh, those silly chaquetas. You will have one.” She stood up abruptly, bored of sitting still, and held her hands out expectantly. 

“I’m not wearing a life jacket! That’s embarrassing, Ale.” You laughed, though you sat up and took her hands to stand up, trying not to stare at the skin on show that passed your eyeline as you did.

“No, está bien! You, you want to sit aquí and be muy aburrido? No! Diviértete! Vamos.” 

With far more confidence than she actually had deep down, Alexia kept hold of your hand and led you through the empty boat to where she had seen some life jackets earlier. You were a giggling mess behind her, staring at her muscular back and all the artwork that decorated it. Her hand was warm and almost entirely encapsulated yours, a fact you would have to ignore for now. 

You had known her for hardly a day, yet here you were jogging hand in hand and laughing like teenagers. It was… refreshing. And so unusual to anything you had ever known in your life. You were a reclusive person that liked routine, familiarity. Not life jackets and treacherous water. Well, maybe not treacherous, the clear ocean was as still as could be, but that’s besides the point. 

This woman, Ale, barely counted as an acquaintance. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel extraordinarily enticed to dive right in, even if it went against every single one of your instincts. Not in that sense though, only in a metaphorical way.

“Ale, I’m not doing it.” You cowered away from the edge of the small platform at the back end of the boat, whilst Alexia sat beside you with her legs already in the water. Despite your earlier grievances, there was now an embarrassingly neon yellow life vest strapped around your torso that screamed ‘I’m English and terrified of water!’

“Jump! Es bonito, créeme.” She urged you with an enchanting smile that was a little hard to resist. 

In an all too distracting fashion, she whipped her white cap off and sat up straight to tie her hair into a bun, and you had to avert your eyes away from her once more. She caught you already, if the crimson to your cheeks was anything to go by and the awkward nature you adorned anytime she moved. 

“If you’re so sure, why aren’t you getting in?” You challenged her, only for her to smirk.

“Porque no soy… a pussy.” 

At that, she lowered herself into the warm sea with a smug look on her face, whilst you stared at her in shock at how such an innocent seeming woman who claimed to know no English just insulted you in such a way. All she did was turn onto her back and gaze up at you with a knowing grin. The way she looked so effortlessly relaxed floating on her back did seem like fun. But you weren’t so easily convinced.

“Venga, cariño. In.” She waved you over with one hand, smiling coyly as you sighed but sat down on the edge nevertheless. “Sí, step one! Now in!”

“Alright, alright! You’re like a pushy swim coach, let me do it in my own time.” Her teasing demeanour softened then, and she swam the short distance back to where you stood. She held onto the platform with one hand whilst she offered the other out to you.

“I will be here. It is okay, lo prometo.” 

Alexia’s smile wasn’t mocking or exasperated, it was bashful and welcoming. Her eyes and her hand were inviting, and you had a feeling that there was some kind of foreshadowing underlying if you didn’t let her guide you into the warm water around. Like the ones you see in the movies, in the books you read. Whether it was that weird, nagging feeling that had you sitting at the edge and fearfully lowering yourself in or if it was Ale’s carefree nature that you had wished for all your life, you had no idea.

“Ves? Te lo dije.” The blonde had to suppress her laughter at the terror in your eyes that you tried to hide, but that laughter was easy to ignore due to the overriding joy she felt at such a simple event. She just hoped this wasn’t the last she saw of you.

“Sure, sure.” You mumbled, your legs flicking aimlessly to tread the water, when in matter of fact it was your vest doing most of the work. “Okay, it isn’t too bad, actually.”

“Te lo dije, cariño! Ahora, on your back. Arms like an angel. Like, with the snow.” Her instructions were a little skewed, probably due to the language barrier, but you gathered what she was saying. A moment later, you were floating on your back in the water like she had been doing a few moments ago. It was pretty relaxing. “Ahh, sí. Podría hacer esto todo el día.”

“And you say reading is boring on vacation.” You mumbled, gasping when she splashes at you.

“This is better, do not lie.” Alexia shrugged as best as she could considering her current situation.

Little did she know, she had started a war.

Feeling somewhat cocky with your handy floatation device, you awkwardly paddle closer before forcing a wave her way. Immediately after you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter at how it borderline water-boarded her. Once she had wiped her eyes, she looked over at you with revenge burning in her eyes. You were done for. 

Considering you were both adults, the childish fight went on far longer than expected of you both. There were more than just your eyes on each other, the commotion had caught the eyes of a few of the others. One person in particular had a pleased grin on her face. On the surface, of course she was happy to see two of her closest friends get along so well. Deep down, however, she wanted nothing more than to see it develop into something better. 

She had been there to witness things she never wanted to see for the both of you. And as a result of the individual difficulties experienced by each of you, there were some wounds left over that she believed could be healed by something right in front of your eyes. The purity that lived in your hearts which, once comfortable with another, could be so clearly seen on your sleeves was something Mapi believed would do wonders for every aspect of your respective lives.

Alexia’s soul had been stamped on by past relationships and her flame had simmered to a dim glow, her chest a hollow and desolate place. You had stomached countless blows, many that would’ve taken the average person out, and yet you were stronger for it. You’d made a life for yourself, sure. An outside glance would show a successful woman at the height of her career, loving life abroad with enough friends around the globe to fill up a village. Should anyone get a look inside your mind, they’d see it was void of love, of true joy. Like Alexia, your personality had been broken down and shoved into a closet, for no one to see or have the privilege of truly getting to know. 

Mapi knew, in an ideal world, you and Alexia could find yourselves in a relationship that would take you so high on a personal level. Except, it’s not an ideal world, it’s a cruel one that had gotten you both to this shattered point anyway. She could only hope that the road to get there wasn’t a long, arduous one that neither of you would deem worth it. 

“Alright, alright! Truce!” You shouted, desperately trying to swim away from Alexia and her lethal attacks. 

“Ah, I won!” She cheered, throwing her arms in the air in celebration, only for her to sink down. Laughter bubbled out of you before you could stop it, and if the water hadn’t taken her breath away, the sound you made sure would have. “I get a prize, no?”

“What? No! If I had known there was a prize, I would have tried harder.” You rolled your eyes, only to be met with a cheeky grin when you looked back at her.

“No, te equivocas. Lo gano todo, siempre.” Apparently, in every turn of life, Alexia’s competitiveness had no qualms with showing itself.

“Ah, so you are a footballer.”

It meant to come out in a teasing way, but it didn’t quite land right. Alexia’s smile faltered, a dejected look forming in her eyes. Dread washed over you; this happened every time. Just as you were getting somewhere with a person, you said something that would erase all your progress. This time had the chance to hurt a lot more than all the others, even after just a day.

“I am.” Alexia nodded with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes like the others you had seen.

“I’m sorry for saying that, I didn’t mea-”

“No, no, no te preocupes. You… I was going to tell you pronto, pero…” She trailed off and glanced away, shrugging slightly.

“You wanted to do it in your own time. Get a break from that part of your life.” You finished her sentence for her, and just like that, she was gazing at you again with admiration in her eyes.

“Yes.” She whispered with a nod, her eyes wide but not unnerving, rather they were almost full of awe.

Everyone in Alexia’s life questioned why she didn’t relish in the glory and popularity that being who she was brought. Her closest family understood of course, but everybody else thought it was strange. Why work so hard for something and not reap the rewards? She didn’t see them as rewards, that’s why. The eyes, the photos taken without her knowledge, the strangers coming up to her in the street and heckling for her to sign something or take selfies when she’d rather disappear off the face of the earth- she didn’t see why anyone would find joy or pride in that when it’s everything she’s ever hated. 

She knew it was a symbol of her achievements, but was it worth it when she would get followed to her apartment, to her family home? Or around the world, like when there was paparazzi on her private vacation the summer before this one? 

And yet, you understood it. You didn’t know her, or the extremes of her job, or the attention she got, but somehow it just clicked. 

It wasn’t some kind of superficial, fairytale moment of ‘soulmate understanding’ for you, Mapi had informed you on the struggles of rising fame a while ago in the midst of the national team struggles when she had escaped with Ingrid to the very island you were on now, which you happened to be on at the same time. You had some level of understanding, only a little, but that was more than enough for Alexia.

“I get it. We don’t have to talk about it.” You told her softly, to which she sighed in relief. “Can we get out of the water now though? I’m thirsty.”

Just like that, the awkward moment had passed.

—

The rest of the day on the boat passes in a flash, and before you knew it, it was pulling up at the docks whilst everyone waited to get off. Each person was just as exhausted as the other as everyone piled off one by one across the tiny plank that everyone secretly feared, especially in such a tired state, but with no casualties, they all went their separate ways. Mapi was coming with you for dinner that night, just the two of you, but she was trailing behind on facetime to Ingrid, so you were walking on your own. Until…

“Hey!” Alexia jogged up to you and gently halted you with a hand on your forearm, coming to stand in front of you with a smile that lost its confidence as soon as you met her gaze. “Oh, um… this is for you.”

As quick as she came, she was gone. All that was left was the note she thrust into your hands before she walked back towards wherever she was initially headed.

In utter confusion, you turned to watch her leave, laughing at the way she scurried away. With a shake of your head, you opened the note and felt your heart rate pick up at just a few words.

Me debes un premio, ¿no? Ven a cenar conmigo mañana por la noche, estaré en el restaurante cerca de tu casa esperandote. Espero verte allí. - Ale

Her handwriting was messy, like a spider had fallen in ink and scampered across the paper, but from what you could make out of the Spanish words… she had asked you on a date. Tomorrow. At the restaurant near your friend’s house that you were staying at. 

Luckily for you, there was only one restaurant that fit Ale’s description - your favourite restaurant out of all the places in the world you had travelled to. You had brought it up with her earlier that day, and apparently this woman had a stellar memory. It was an off-handed comment you made, describing it exactly as ‘the restaurant near your house’ during a random, filler conversation you had had with the Spaniard as you dried off after going in the water again. 

If that was the prize she wanted, it would be rude not to entertain that.

“Qué quería Alexia?” Mapi asked, interrupting your internal gushing.

Alexia. Her actual name.

“Um, well…” You started, only to trail off as your cheeks turned a crimson colour. With words failing you, out of embarrassment or wonder, you weren’t sure, you handed Mapi the note.

“Qué es esto…” Mapi cut herself off as she read the words in her mother tongue, before looking up at you with her jaw to the ground and her eyes popping out of her head. “Dios mío!”

“María, be quiet!” You shushed her urgently, snatching the note back, only for her to do the same as she read it again and again. “If you rip that, I sw-”

“Ale moves quick! Damn!” She burst out into giddy laughter, grabbing your shoulders and shaking them excitedly. “You have a date!”

“I should never have told you, for god’s sake.” You muttered, turning and walking away from her. She cheered wildly behind you before running to catch up.

“I think it goes without saying that I am happy for you.” She stated, a lot more toned down than she was a moment ago.

“Yeah, you think?” You huffed, crossing your arms as the defender slung an arm around your shoulders. “How long have you known her?”

“Ale? Uff, a very long time. I knew her a tiny bit from international camp but when I joined Barcelona, we became good friends. Whether she likes it or not, I am her best friend.” She hummed. It was hard to ascertain if this was her normal behaviour or if she was a little buzzed from the drinks supplied on the boat. 

“So she plays for your team?” 

“Alexia is Barça. She is Barça, Barça is her.” 

You didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but it sounded… important. 

It was that reply from Mapi that stuck for the rest of the evening. You thought about it on the way back to your place, throughout dinner whilst the aforementioned woman spoke basically with herself, and as you got ready for bed that night. 

However, it was as you took out your earrings in the bathroom mirror of the tiny en-suite of your favourite bedroom, that you realised there was something under the surface of that comment. There would likely be one true meaning of what that meant for Alexia, but the possibilities were endless for your overthinking mind. 

Was the way she was towards you just an act? What was her true persona? Who really is Alexia?

—

She was just a girl, is what you learn as you walked into the restaurant the next day. 

You had no place to question her based on another person’s comments, even if those words were from her best friend. It would be hypocritical of you, after being on the receiving end of such events all your life, to judge someone before you knew them. 

She was just a girl, nervous to go on a date. That much was clear when you saw her from the doorway, tapping her foot anxiously as her hands fidgeted with the rings she wore whilst waiting for you to show up. She had no idea if you would or not, she didn’t have any way to contact you at all. You could never reject her though.

“Ale, hi.” You said as a waitress led you over to the table, stifling a giggle as Alexia’s chair screeched loudly as she stood up to greet you.

“Hi!” She replied, before clearing her throat and hastily wiping her hands on her trousers. She was dressed relaxed, but suited to the occasion, in a soft cream polo shirt and a darker shade of linen trousers. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down of sorts with two strands at the front out to frame her face, and it was hard not to gawk at her. “You look… so beautiful. Really.”

“Thank you, you look amazing too.” You beamed shyly, gladly accepting the hug she offers and blushing a little at the kiss she leaves on your cheek.

“Sit, sit. We need, uh, menus, where ar-” The blonde’s nerves were evidently on show as her eyes looked around frantically, and though yours weren’t quite so obvious, it’s reassuring to know she felt just the same as you. 

You often kept things built up inside, buried deep down to hide or deal with later. Alexia also did that, typically, but there was something about you that made all her habits and inhibitions fly out the window. It scared her, but the larger part of her took that as a sign that you weren’t someone to lose. She would have you in her life in any capacity, friend or partner, and if she screwed up then she didn’t think she could forgive herself. 

“Ale, Ale, calm down. We have all night, relax.” You gently took hold of her hands and brought her back down to this moment, to which she nodded and breathed in deeply. “You’re nervous, it’s okay. I am too.”

“Lo sé, lo sé. I haven’t been on a date in so long, cariño, I do not want to mess this up.” She sighed, looking across at you with honesty in her eyes and her soul on show, and it took your breath away a little. Maybe this woman in front of you was everything you had longed for all these years. Someone whose whole being was built with the same foundations as yours, with the same outlook on life and the same values. The same simple, peaceful ideation of what life with love could look like.

“You won’t mess this up, Ale. Just be yourself, the woman I was with yesterday, and you won’t mess this up.” You told her, and she nodded a lot less desperately afterwards. Her facial features and her whole entire body softened then, you saw it and felt it in the way it travelled throughout her and into her hands. Of which, took yours in return, raised them to her mouth, and kissed each individual knuckle. This was a date, after all, as her actions then had so kindly reminded you.

“Thank you for coming. I was worried that I may have been too, uh, cocky?” She grimaced at the English word on her tongue, only making you smile. 

“No, not cocky at all. I appreciate you being honest and forward, it’s rare nowadays and… if I’m honest, I don’t really like the process of getting into a relationship. Everyone is all hard-to-get and mind games, it’s not for me.” You’re rambling already, not used to this scenario, and you already feel embarrassed. “Oh, god, I’m sorry, I’ve totally made myself look like an idiot, I’m s-”

“No!” She cut you off abruptly, shaking her head as you turned your attention back to her. “I think that also. But you, I think that… you are different. Good different. That is why I asked for a date. We do not know each other a lot, but I really want to.” 

You smiled at her. 

“I do too.” 

From there, things are peaceful. Simple and tranquil, just like you both hoped. It’s easy being with each other, because there’s a deeper understanding that’s by some magic naturally there. Nothing is forced, nothing is awkward. Well, that’s a lie, there’s a little awkwardness but you’ve come to learn that that’s just a thing between you both. Perhaps it’ll go away with time, but there’s only one way to find out.

After a bit of back and forth, it’s decided that Alexia will pay for the dinner, her rule of thumb apparently since she asked you, and the drinks seem to never end. A mix of alcohol and normal drinks, but as the evening goes on, neither of you want to leave. That damn cliche phrase that you had thought could never be true was in fact the perfect metaphor, no matter how much that grates your teeth; the world does go away when you’re together. The lives you individually lead fade into the background with the room around you, and rather than learning the basic facts about each other, for hours you spill detail after detail of countless personal stories that create a summary of you both that are far more detailed and honest than first date small talk could ever do. 

It all comes down to that basic understanding that was there from the first day in the kitchen. It’s inexplicably hard to comprehend the fact it’s hardly been three days since that initial meeting, but there is serenity at the surface level that is built by the roots below which seem to have intertwined, between two countries in one continent, to provide the foundations of what could be. Years, centuries, of history and alignments have set the standards of love, now it’s up to the both of you to live up to the possibilities that have been placed down for you.

It’s something you don’t necessarily understand, which is ironic, but you’ve got your whole life to think about that. This isn’t a moment to miss or pass up on by overthinking. For once in your life, you're not going to do that. Not when your future could be staring you in the face.

“Your English is not as bad as you told me it was.” You stated, folding your arms on the table and gazing at Alexia who had just finished her second glass of wine of the night, already having had a cocktail and some water before it.

“Thank you. I get nervous to speak, I think.” Alexia replied with a shrug that wasn’t as nonchalant as she thought it would be; it was a little revealing of the insecurity she just stated.

“Well, I like hearing you speak it. It’s very endearing, it’s cute.” You told her with a sly smile. Alexia smirked and nodded, seemingly thinking for a moment before she leaned in slightly.

“Y el español? El español es ‘cute’? Creo que es mucho mejor que el inglés. Pero, sabes, depende de ti, amor. Lo que prefieras.” She purposely lowered her voice, meaning it was a little raspy and wonderfully addictive, especially in her second preferred language. You rolled your eyes affectionately, pretending that the goosebumps on your arms and the back of your neck weren’t there.

“I suppose that’s quite… nice, too.” You admitted a moment later, the footballer grinning at you as you blushed behind the hands that covered your face in faux embarrassment. “Your English is better than María’s.”

“No, no, no. Serio? La mencionas aquí en la cena? Estamos en una cita, dios mío.” Alexia descended off into a ramble about her friend, specifically to hear you laugh, which you did. “A date I am paying!”

“It was a compliment!” You argued with a beaming smile, one that Alexia matched instantly as you played along.

“Lo que sea.” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the bottle of wine that had been ordered after the main meal, now nearly empty. She poured a glass each, which was only a quarter full, but it was a sign that this part of the evening was coming to an end. What came afterwards, neither of you were sure. It seemed you weren’t the only one that didn’t want it to end, and to be honest it’s a wonder that it’s only now the filler topics start. “You had a dinner date with Mapi last night, no? How was it?”

“It was good, it was good. Um… kind of embarrassingly, actually, she wouldn’t stop talking… about, uh, you.” 

Wrong thing to say?

“Oh. You told her about tonight?” There was a hint of a frown tugging at her lips, which made your stomach drop.

“Kind of. A little. She was just teasing me, mostly, you know what she’s like.” You laughed nervously, glad to see it put a smile on Alexia’s face as she nodded in agreement. It went quiet for a moment, and it was clear you were stuck in thought as you traced your finger around the bottom of your wine glass. “She was really happy for us, actually. Couldn’t stop gushing about it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Like, she was so happy that it was all she wanted to talk about. Something about how her two best friends dating would be ‘the best thing in the world’, so… yeah.” You shrugged, kicking yourself for bringing it up. Not for long though.

“It could be.” Alexia hummed after a moment. You glanced up from your glass to see her staring at you openly, and not put off by the topic at hand. “It could be the best thing in the world. We do not know until we try.”

All you could do at that was nod, because it caught you so off-guard. So you did nod, a little gormlessly, at which Alexia laughed quietly, and it snapped you back to reality.

“You’re right. We don’t know until we try.” You agreed, Alexia humming again and nodding. 

The silence after that didn’t need to be filled, unlike the last one. In fact, it wasn’t.

You both drank the last mouthful of your wine, sharing a knowing glance over the glasses, before they clinked down against the table and you both stood up. Alexia waited for you as you grabbed your bag, and all you could think was thank god this wasn’t some American movie where you had to pay the cheque after dinner. You shook that thought away, physically, to which Alexia pulled a confused at, only for you to shake your head and grab her hand. 

There was a sense of urgency about the situation now, felt by the both of you. On the way out of the restaurant, Alexia could barely drop a ‘gracias’ to the waiting staff before she was dragged outside the quaint building by you. But, when you step foot outside, you didn’t know where to go from there. You didn’t know if Alexia wanted the same thing you were hoping for in that moment, and if she didn’t, it might have killed all the excitement for you.

Out on the street, bustling with the night life of the summer evening, you turned to her, a little awkwardly, and searched her eyes. All you found was contentment, and a hint of the desire you felt. Still, you didn’t want to assume anything.

“So… what are you thinking?” You wondered. The blonde maintained eye contact with you, and you felt compelled to hold it, despite the awkwardness you harboured. Then, a moment after, she chuckled under her breath with a shake of her head. “Wha-”

In a split second, her lips were on yours. They didn’t move, they were delicate, and it took you a slow moment to catch up. Just as you kissed her back, her mouth was gone. She stood facing the road again like she hadn’t just thrown everything you thought you knew on its head. You gawked up at her, out of confusion and adoration for what you had just experienced, then turned to face the street as well. There was no emotion on her face, just stoicism and a seemingly total lack of care for what had happened. You clasped your hands in front of you, a frown beginning to form. 

Yet, just as it did, there were a pair of warm hands encapsulating your cheeks and the same pair of lips from before back on yours. You got up to speed much quicker this time; the kiss was soft and seamless, moving at a slow pace as the warmth in your heart far outweighed the warmth of the Spanish climate around you. 

You didn’t kiss on the first date, but apparently that was just a rule you had made after going on too many dates with the wrong people. Because this, well, this was so much better than preserving some stupid rule you had stolen from all the books you read.

Your arms reached up to wrap around Alexia’s neck as the kiss deepened a little, perhaps much more outside your comfort zone considering you were on a public street, but that was the thing about Alexia.

This woman was constantly pushing your boundaries, but not in a panic-inducing way. She did it in a way as if she had peeked inside your mind and picked out all the boundaries that you loathed, and instead replaced them with memories you could have only ever dreamed of. That day in the kitchen, if it had been anyone else standing in your doorway, you would have definitely turned them away. It had taken one look in her eyes, and you knew she was going to change the entire trajectory of your life in the most unexpected way.

“Do you, maybe, want to come back to my place?” You whispered, a little breathlessly, with your forehead resting against hers.

“Sí, me encantar-”

Her phone’s ringtone interrupted her.

It rang out from her pocket, and she groaned as she grabbed it, intending to decline the call. However, along with it she saw a barrage of texts she had unknowingly received throughout the night. At the sight, she had no choice but to answer it.

You stifled a frustrated groan as she brought it up to her ear and answered whoever it was in Spanish, taking a few steps away. With a moment’s peace, you dug your own phone out of your bag and frowned at the first notification you saw.

María: Please forgive me for what I have to do!!

Hardly a minute later, Alexia came back over with the same frustration you felt written all over her face.

“Mapi just rang. One of my younger teammates has got very drunk. I need to go and care for her tonight.” She revealed with a sharp breath out, slotting her phone back into her pocket and shaking her head down at you.

“It’s okay.” You told her with a reassuring smile, frowning again when she shook her head.

“It is not. I am sorry. I wanted to… to spend the night with you, not with-” She cut herself off with a groan, both hands coming up to rub at her face in annoyance. 

“Ale.” You murmured, gently pulling her arms back by her forearms, before your hands slid down her soft skin to hold her hands between you both. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m just happy I spent the evening with you today. I really enjoyed it. I think I needed it.”

The anger inside her melted away as a result of your admission. She nodded and brought you in for a hug, which you happily indulged in.

“I will make it up to you. I promise.” She stated firmly, pulling back from the hug to gaze down at you. It took her barely time at all to convince herself to kiss you once more. And in it, she conveyed every feeling and emotion she would have shown you that night, had she been able to.

“We’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, at the dinner, remember?” You reminded her of the next day's event, something you were both invited to once again. She nodded, and at that, you parted ways.

That day, you didn’t end up speaking much about your current life, or hers, and you never found out what María meant by her statement the night before, because quite frankly it wasn’t on your mind. It doesn’t matter to you. You learnt all you needed to know that you were in love with her, even if it had been just three days.

—

Despite the previous night's perfections, there was one fatal flaw that you had failed to make known so far. It would bite you in the ass as much as it would hurt Alexia.

After the dinner with everyone that had come along on the trip, including yourself and Alexia, you would be going back to the house you were at to pack for your flight only a few hours afterwards. Tonight was your final night.

In your bag, there was a surprise that would hopefully make it somewhat less painful than it could be. That might be wishful thinking though.

Most people were there by the time you arrived at the idyllic restaurant, a laid-back vibe to the place with fake plants and vines covering the walls and vintage bulb lights strewn across the ceiling. All of that was at the back of your mind; there was, realistically, only one reason you agreed to this dinner tonight. 

“You're here.” Alexia whispered in your ear as she took a seat beside you, once again choosing you in a room filled with many more interesting people.

“I am.” You turned to her with a smile, a certain fluttery feeling in your stomach as a delicate hand landed on your knee. 

“I am so happy to see you.” She admitted, glancing around to see everyone else busy with greetings, so she looked back at you and quickly ducked down to place a kiss on your shoulder. “I have waited all day for this, for you.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment, Ale.” You said sheepishly, cowering back into your seat and feeling a little out of place in such a large group.

“It is true. I swear it.” She beamed, and that alone was all the persuasion you needed to stay. 

And you did, no matter how much your skin crawled with the amount of people and conversations and extroversion on show, you stayed. 

Everytime you got a wave of anxiety or unbelonging, there was a steady presence beside you that remained there at all times. It was strange, having so much trust in what most people would class as a stranger considering the time frame of it all, but for you she was like a shelter in the storm. 

It’s just a shame that you had a cloud of dread looming over you all night, and she was soon to be the victim of it. 

At one point, after the main meal, you managed to sneak away from it all. You slipped out quietly, without a fuss or a fanfare, having perfected the Irish goodbye during all these years. You could be found at the rooftop bar just above, your guilt not allowing you to head home just yet due to the one person who you had told to meet you there when she was ready.

For much less time than you expected, you nursed a single mocktail, at peace with your solitude once more, even with the Menorcan nightlife booming all around. But, as you had learnt within the last few days, there was one person that could always pull you out of the anxious pit you thought yourself into.

“Hola, cariño.” Alexia slid onto the stool across from you at the small, intimate table you had chosen by the railing, with an incredible view of the surrounding area. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, fine.” You brushed her off with a tight-lipped smile, one Alexia could see through instantly, as one hand anxiously clasped your glass and the other scratched the back of your neck. 

“No, you do not look fine.” Alexia frowned, delicately resting a hand on your forearm.

“That’s kind of you.” You laughed, but it was humourless.

“No, you understand what I said. You do not seem yourself.” She said, a little softer than her last words. You shrugged and averted your eyes to the scenery to your right. Her hand squeezed your arm, trying to gain your attention again. It didn’t work, “You can talk to me. I will listen. I am good at that.”

“You are good at listening.” You smiled at her then, to her relief, falling deeper and deeper into her eyes everytime she grinned at you. “It really doesn’t matter, Ale. It’s… it’s silly.”

“Not to me. Venga, talk. Off your mind.” 

Pushing your boundaries, again. Not to laugh at you, or mock you, or cause years worth of emotional anguish. She was doing it simply because she cared. There was no double meaning to it. It was just who she was.

“I guess those kinds of things, the dinner with everyone, just aren’t really… my crowd.” You met her eye nervously, just to be met with earnesty and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. “I feel out of place there, I always do. I just wish I could be in the background, but at the same time I want to be a part of it. Everyone looks so… free of their burdens, and I just carry them around with me like chains dragging me down and I don’t know how to get out of that mindset.”

The silence that met your rambling was deathly unnerving, and part of you was considering hopping on a flight right this second, to anywhere that’ll have you. Somewhere cooler than this heat, off the grid, with no one around… Alaska? Somewhere in Canada? Or perhaps a place in Chile, or Peru, or-

“You were never in the background to me. Never.” Alexia stated honestly. “You can be like them. But I like your quieter qualities too. Who you want to be one day, I think I will like her anyway.”

For a moment, they were precisely the words you wished to hear all along. Then that passed. In its wake, the same sense of dread from earlier. Almost as if you were already going through the heartbreak that would surely come.

“I have something else to tell you, Ale.” You mumbled. She nodded, emphatically, more than prepared to take on board any more of your insecurities, worries, anxieties, anything. “I’m going home tonight. My flight is at five in the morning.”

“W…what?” Alexia murmured, hoping, praying that she hadn’t heard what she was sure she had.

“I have to leave soon, to get ready for my flight home.” You repeated, expecting her to pull away or to get angry. She didn’t. But you could see the melancholy swirling in her eyes, no doubt drowning her heart too.

“Why did you not tell me sooner? I thought we had more time.” She said dejectedly, her grasp on your arm a little firmer than it was before. It was clear to you she wasn’t ready to let go yet, and that made it all indefinitely worse. Much harder than you expected.

“I-” Your voice cracked over the short syllable. “I’m sorry, Ale. I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

“Do not be sorry, and do not cry, please. It will hurt more if you cry, then I will cry, it will be a mess.” You laughed at her words, and she managed to crack a smile too. “When do you have to go?” 

“Soon. Soon.” You answered, sniffling and wiping your eyes before the tears fell. Then you remembered. “But I have something for you! It’s in my bag, just for you.”

Alexia chuckled at how you frantically looked through your bag for the item you were looking for, pulling it out not a moment later. She took it from you gently, like it was some kind of ancient relic she had to handle with care, knowing how much it meant to you.

“Your book?” She smiled softly at you, this one object worth so much more to her than anything she possessed, just due to the sentiment of it.

“My favourite book. I think you’ll like it. It’s in English though, so that might put you off.” You teased, but instead of playing along, she shook her head and tore her eyes away from the gift to gaze at you with nothing but unabashed amazement exuberating from her. 

“No, I will read this. Thank you, for giving a piece of yourself to me.”

“Here, let me write something in it for you.” 

You rooted through your bag for a pen you knew was in there, finding it in a heartbeat. Alexia slid the book over to you and watched you with great intent, only for you to turn the cover over so she couldn’t see what you wrote on the first page. She rolled her eyes and looked away, entirely missing the way you flicked through to the final page and scribbled something down quickly. The click of the pen brought her attention back to you, and she went to take it back before you slammed your hand down on the cover.

“No, don’t read it while I’m here. Wait until I’m gone.” You demanded. With a sigh, she gave in, knowing she would let you lead her off of a cliff if you just said the words. She went to speak again, only to be stopped by a ringtone, yet again. “I’m sorry, Ale. That’s my alarm. I need to go.”

Goodbyes were the worst. No amount of preparation and acceptance could force away the onslaught of emotions that built up merely at the idea of them. You found yourself grasping for the right words, but you knew deep down that none can appropriately capture the magnitude of what you’re feeling. It’s a blur, that sacred moment, and it feels awfully final. Though you know that life, with all its beauty, will cross your paths again some day, there’s no certainty in anything. 

And that thought, as you pull away from her arms and take it step by step across the bar, constricts your heart tightly, as if it’s still her hand holding it and refusing to let go. You feel the ache of her absence already, though you still share the same air, and the tears on your face glimmer in the warm light of the fairy lights above you.

Alexia hadn’t quite felt heartbreak like it. She had known love, she had known loss. But never had she felt so sick to her stomach at the idea of someone walking so simply out of her life. Still, she had no way to contact you, only knowing your first name and that you lived in Barcelona. Yet, at the same time, she knew everything about you. In your opinion, there wasn’t another human on earth that so deeply understood the essence of your being. But she couldn’t do anything about it. You were out of her reach now. A face in the distance. 

In secret you both met and in silence you will now grieve, because no one could understand how deeply intertwined you had become with each other’s souls in such a short time.

Isn't it strange, how a few fleeting moments can change every hope and dream about the future. And yet, in the glimpse of an eye, it can disintegrate into a past memory before we even know it.

—

Part two? because what if i said, theoretically, i already have the whole entire plotline figured out for it🌝 let me know what you think :)

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: heyy! can i request a The Boys preference where (during early relationship) they see reader in more tight fitting clothes for the very first time (reader usually wears baggy jeans and oversized shirts, but now for once wears shorts and a tight fitting tanktop or smth) tysm! - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: Screaming I love this! As someone who loves baggy clothing, there's nothing better than showing off the ✨️goods✨️ when I feel like it lol. This was super fun to imagine! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher is pretty shocked. Whereas you usually lean towards oversized shirts and big pants, you were dressed in something revealing, tight. You tried to look casual, secure, but underneath you were full of insecurities. You think I look stupid, you say, following his gaze up and down your body. Stupid is the last word he'd ever use. Butcher wears this wicked smile, telling you exactly what he thinks. You laugh, telling him to shut up before he's saying anything else. He loves what he sees. Because your relationship is still new, he's trying to be on his best behavior, but you know how his mind works. You throw your sweatshirt over your outfit, calling him ridiculous, laughing at him. Now that he knows what's underneath those oversized layers, he can't keep his thoughts or hands off you.

Hughie is all giggles and smiles. He hadn't realized you'd kept one of your suits from your time at The Seven. This suit, however, was different from the one you regularly wore. This was tighter, more exposing, showing off every curve and contour of your body. It was the only one you were allowed to take with you and there was a reason you rarely put it on. He wasn't used to seeing you like this. You wore big sweatshirts and wide pants. He never thought he'd be as surprised as he was when he finally saw you, but he was. Your body was. . . wow. He tries to hide his excitement, but he can't. Seeing this, you do a little spin for him, growing self-conscious. Do I look stupid? You ask. He's quick to tell you you look amazing. Because your relationship is still new, he doesn't want to sound too excited, but to him, you look amazing. He's glad he got to see you like this.

Annie wants to show you off to everyone. She knows now is not the time nor place: you've put on your old Supe suit to make a point against those in favor of Homelander. It's serious and important and dangerous given his fans would do anything to get a piece of you, anything to tear you down. But she can't help it, she can't take her eyes off you. She's never seen you in your suit before. You quit The Seven before your promo pictures could come out, after you'd been introduced. You took the suit with you. By then, you'd had a sort of a cult following, people interested in your story before you had the spotlight shown on you. It helped that you and Annie were newly together. She hadn't realized you'd kept your suit so when you showed up at Starlight House wearing it, she was speechless. She'd never seen your body like that before. She couldn't take her eyes off you.

M.M. is speechless. You got all dressed up for a date. Before this, your dates had always been casual, spur of the moment, low key. Tonight Marvin went all out for reservations at a fancy place you'd never even heard of. You figured you'd pull out your best clothes which just so happened to be a little tighter and more revealing that your typical wardrobe. He picks you up at your place, not recognizing you at first. You're self-conscious, making a joke about your appearance before anyone else has the chance. He wouldn't though. He thinks you look amazing. He was always more than a little curious as to what exactly you were hiding under big t-shirts and baggy pants, but your relationship was new and so he felt a little shy wondering. Now he was glad he had waited: you were breath taking.

Frenchie is obsessed. Mon Couer, where have you been hiding all this?! It definitely makes you laugh and a little embarrassed. He's never minded your usual clothes. He's all for oversized sweatshirts and comfort and the overall aesthetic. He thinks you look adorable in your usual clothes, but this? Wow. Just wow. You jokingly tell him to pick is jaw off the floor. You and Kimiko are going undercover as a wealthy couple. She's all dressed up and waiting for you. Not only are your clothes expensive looking, but they fit like a glove. He's never seen so much of your body. It drives him wild. You get compliments from everyone, but Frenchie, your new boyfriend, can't get enough of you. If this mission weren't so important and time sensitive, he would have spent the whole night telling you just how sexy you looked.

Kimiko has never seen this much of you all at once. Together you're going undercover. She's wearing a dress with her hair and makeup done. It makes her feel like a clown. Still, she does it because she has to. And you do, too. You lose the baggy pants and big shirts for something a lot more tight and way more revealing. The rest of The Boys have a lot to say, all of it you laugh at and tell them to shut up. Kimiko hopes it's too dark to see that she's blushing, watching you step out of the car. If she spoke she would have been speechless. Instead she plays it off cool, telling you you look great, before going in. In any chance she can get though she stares you up and down, taking you in, smiling to herself. She doesn't get distracted about anything, but you? Oh you're all she can think about.

Bonus! Homelander doesn't really think about your body, or anyone's body. It's more of a want more than anything else and it typically involves milk. Still, when you come out and show everyone your suit, he's pretty speechless. Your civilian clothes and fashion are oversized, baggy, and comfortable. He's never really seen your body before, no one has. Your PR team wanted to fix that though. You're not so sure about your suit: it leaves little to the imagination. When you step out you're embarrassed, wishing for your sweatshirt. Homelander never compliments anyone unless it's backhanded, but he really does like what he sees. It's kind of a throw away line, one that seems innocent and nonchalant, but for him it's a huge deal. He can't stop thinking about you. Even when you put on the other variations, he has final say. Everyone is too scared to say no to him. He liked the first one so you wear the first one.

Bonus! Soldier Boy is practically drooling. The moment he sees you his jaw is on the floor. He's never minded your usual fashion: baggy clothes were comfortable and cute. He would have minded had he known you were hiding *all that* beneath oversized sweatshirts/sweaters/t-shirts and baggy pants. He can't help himself (not that he ever held anything back usually) when he makes remarks and jokes and innuendos. It comes out so fast it's almost compulsive, he's barely breathing between words. The Boys think it's hilarious how much attention you're getting from him considering they've grown used to these switch ups between clothes. He practically begs you for an ounce of attention, affection, and you use it as leverage. As long as you're wearing as little as possible, Soldier Boy will do anything you want.

[barcaatthemoon]

lover girl || kate martin x reader ||

Kate comes to you needing a little love.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.

You had never been with anybody as sweet as Kate Martin. It wasn't your fault, but you seemed to only ever attract womanizers and heartbreakers. For years, you had thought that you could fix them with love and care. Instead, all you had to show for it was heartbreak and despair.

Kate was different. Kate loved you just as much as you loved her, maybe even more. You had never even considered what it would be like to have a partner. Kate wasn't just your girlfriend or someone who you slept with after games. No, Kate Martin was your partner. She loved and cherished you even whenever you weren't doing what she wanted you to.

"Baby?" Kate called out. You had been up in your office finishing up a few things for work. Kate had gone out with some of the girls to play a pick up game at a park with some local kids. You loved that Kate was giving back to the new community who had accepted her as one of their own. Going from Iowa to Vegas was a big move, and you were happy that she had found her footing so easily.

You hadn't moved from Iowa, being a Las Vegas native. You were a friend of friend at first, but you and Kate had quickly hit it off. All it had taken was a bit of prodding from your friends and a night out on the town with Kate to kick off your relationship. The two of you took off running together and never dared to look back, and you were happier for it.

"I know that you were working, and it's honestly kind of late, but…" Kate trailed off as she cleared her throat. You turned around in your desk chair to see Kate looking like a nervous wreck. You pouted as you stood up and walked over towards her.

"Come on, talk to me," you told her. It was gentle prodding, something that you had learned from her. Both of you hated the idea of being a burden, so you were always hesitant to go to one another whenever you needed something.

"It's stupid, you're busy." Kate tried to turn away from you, but you didn't let her. You leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to her cheek. Kate was blushing when you started to pull away, and her arms held you tightly to keep you in close. "What are you working on?"

"Nothing really. I was watching YouTube," you admitted. Kate let out a small chuckle as she glanced back at your desktop. The video you'd been watching was paused, and Kate could see herself on the screen giving an interview. "What can I say? I'm kind of obsessed with you."

"It's okay, I am too." Kate had never shied away from how much she loved you. Your relationship moved fast, but you and Kate were good. Nothing felt rushed, you just enjoyed each other's company, and things just happened to align perfectly for both of you. "So much so that I was wondering if I could steal you away for a little bit?"

"Oh yeah?" you asked. Kate's hand subtly moved from the small of your back to rest on your ass. "What for?"

"I want you. I need to be close to you and feel you. Just for a little while, please. I need a bit of love," Kate said. She seemed close to begging with you, like she'd get on her knees if you asked. Lucky for her, you didn't want that from Kate. You wanted her to be happy, and if you were being honest, you always wanted Kate in that way. It was like an addiction almost, the thought of her taking you to bed every single night sitting in the back of your head during your every waking moment.

"Let's go." You hadn't even finished your sentence before Kate was scooping you into her arms. She carried you all the way from your little office to the bedroom. You wondered what Kate had been doing while you worked in your office. She had been back for maybe an hour or so before she had come to get you. The bed was still pristinely made from when she woke up, so you doubted that she had taken a nap.

"I love you," Kate mumbled against your lips. She placed a few clumsy kisses against your lips, waiting until you grabbed her face to pull her focus in. You tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging it out of the loose ponytail she had thrown it up in after her shower.

The two of you stayed entangled in each other as Kate set you down on the bed. Even as she undressed you, Kate was reluctant to move just half an inch away. She was being clingy, and you absolutely ate it up. You had never been with someone who wanted you so genuinely before, nor had you ever felt the same. There was nothing about Kate to fix, and yet, being with her filled you with a sense of happiness you had never known.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Kate repeated again and again, each time pressing a kiss to your skin as she did so. She trailed kisses down your body, stopping just below your navel. Your pants were off, tossed somewhere on the ground near the hamper, but Kate had left your underwear on. She stared at you as she waited for you to tell her that she could continue. It didn't matter how comfortable the two of you were with each other, she always waited for you to give her permission when it came to the most vulernable parts of yourself. "Can I, please?"

"You're the only person I ever want to touch me like this," you told her. Kate blushed as she pulled your underwear down. She held eye contact with you, only allowing her eyes to dart down once you had looked away from her. Kate swallowed nervously, just she always did.

"Before I do anything." Kate moved up to give you a kiss before she settled back in between your legs. Your thighs were moved to rest on her shoulders as her arms looped around your hips. Kate was slow and gentle as she decorated the insides of your thighs in kisses. Finally, when you felt like you were on the verge of begging and pleading for more, Kate's lips pressed a kiss to your cunt.

Kate's fingers gently spread you open, revealing you to her completely. You threaded your fingers in Kate's hair, not pushing or pulling her in any direction. Her hands were busy, and you just wanted to holding onto her. Kate understood this, and let the fingers on her free hand move back and forth against your stomach.

You took deep breaths, matching the slow strokes of Kate's tongue. She was just trying to taste you. It wasn't about getting you off just yet, you still had a little ways to go until you got desperate. This was Kate's favorite part of things, when the two of you could just exist in this intimate space without any sort of push or pull going on.

"Fuck Kate, that feels so good," you moaned. Kate hummed her thanks as she brought her fingers up to rub against your clit. Your hips bucked forward, grinding against her fingers as her tongue lapped lazily at your entrance. Every drop of your arousal that she could get, Kate took. The strokes of her tongue began to grow feverish, and you knew that Kate was close to switching positions on you.

Her tongue replaced her fingers, and the two fingers that had been rubbing your clit were pushed inside of you. Kate let you move on her fingers, setting the rhythm and pace for her. She was quick to match your pace, long fingers grazing every spot you could have wanted her to in the process. Kate was good at what she did in every aspect of life, so you weren't embarrassed to come crashing down around her fingers so quickly.

Kate gently guided you through your orgasm. You felt light and airy, like the only thing keeping you from floating away was Kate's body on top of yours. She had pushed your legs from her shoulders, and now rested on top of you. Your hands were still in her hair, just barely scratching at her scalp. Kate was staring up at you when you finally glanced down at her, but you had no clue how long she'd been watching you for.

"Hi." Kate's smile was bright as she turned and pressed a kiss between your hips. She rolled completely onto her stomach and began to move higher up onto the bed. Now, it was your turn to lay against Kate as she opened her arms for you. "Shh, rest easy babe."

"Don't you-,"

"No, this was all I wanted. It's late. We can revisit this tomorrow when I get back from practice," Kate told you. You glanced over at the alarm clock, and she was right. Kate's practices for the next two weeks were all early ones, and it was nearly midnight already. "Do you need me to get you anything?"

"I'm fine. I can do it myself," you told her. Kate may have let you get up, but she still followed you around like a puppy. It was sweet how she still tried helping even with the easiest of tasks. You wanted her to get back in bed, but Kate didn't end up going back until you were comfortably tucked in beside her.

[cryptidghostgirl]

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

[vivwritesfics]

Everybody Wants To Rule The World

Zac Brown ruled the McLaren empire. His daughter was constantly getting into trouble, getting herself kidnapped and whatnot. But she was pretty good at getting into those situations. Oscar was hired so that she wouldn't get into said situations. She thought he would be easy to break. But there was a reason Zac hired Oscar. He was the best of the best and he wasn't going to fall for her shit.

6.5K

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, mafia fic themes, smutty themes and talks of sex (but no actual smut) guns and death (nobody important)

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

Demands that wouldn't be met. The fact that he was even trying was laughable. Demands hadn't been met since she was fifteen years old. Her father would rather receive her head in a box than meet the demands that would have saved her life.

She tested the rope tying her wrists behind her back. it was a good, sturdy knot; she'd be the first to admit that it was a well tied knot. Grabbing the end of the rope, she tugged. It didn't budge.

She didn't panic. If she was to panic, it would have made things so much worse. Oh, her dad was gonna be so mad when she got home.

Her captor ended the call and let out a breathy, terrifying laugh. He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned on his heel to face her. "Sounds like daddy isn't going to come and save his little princess."

She simply raised her eyebrows at him. Clearly, he hadn't heard of her reputation. That was fine. She wasn't salty about it.

"Should we send him one of your ears? Show him just how serious we are?"

The rope gave slightly, allowing her to slip her hand out. She didn't, not yet, not while he was watching her. "Who is we?" She asked, pretending to look around the warehouse. She knew exactly how many people were watching her.

Barking out a laugh, she slipped one hand out of her bindings and grabbed the rope before it could fall, maintaining the illusion that she was still tied up. She stopped her eyes from moving to the men standing in the shadows. If they had weapons, she couldn't see them.

"Fuck it," she said and unravelled the rope in her hands, keeping it hidden behind her. "Let's do it, let's cute off my ear. Maybe then you'll get your money."

The grin that came across her face was sickening, but she steadied her nerves. He kept staring at her as he reached behind him. "Someone give me a knife," he said.

There was a moment before either of the men in the shadows moved. But then they strode closer and placed a knife into the bosses hands. He whispered something to him, and she didn't need to hear it to know what it was.

"I got it," the boss said, shrugging him off. He retreated to the shadows as the boss approached her knife balanced between his fingers. "Do you think you'll still be pretty without one of your ears?" He asked, his grin showing off his too white teeth. So white and perfect that they couldn't have been real.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably," she answered.

A hand hit her cheek. Her nostrils flared as she stared at him, head tipped to the side and cheek stinging.

He leaned down, knife held out. Before the sharp metal could make contact with her skin, she grabbed the rope in both hands and kicked him away. He stumbled back in surprise and dropped the knife as she stood up.

The second she was on her feet, she wrapped the rope around his neck and pulled him towards her. The knife was beneath her high heeled shoe, keeping it away from the men that rushed towards them.

"I wouldn't," she said, tightening the rope around the bosses neck. "I really fucking wouldn't. Holding both ends of the rope in one hand, she pulled him around just enough for her to pick up the knife. "This your only weapon?" she asked as she looked at it.

The other men looked at each other and raised their fists. She couldn't stop her loud, mocking laughter. "You guys are fucking stupid," she said and stabbed the boss in the thigh.

He fell to the floor with a cry. "Here's how this is gonna work," she began, "I'm gonna walk out of here and you guys are gonna get him medical attention." She reached down and stabbed his other thigh. "And if any of you want to stop me, I can always give you guys the same treatment."

Silently, they stepped to the side and allowed her through. She kept a hold of the knife and held her head up high as she walked out of the warehouse.

***

Daniel Ricciardo was so dead. His whole job was to take care of her, and she had disappeared.

He'd turned her room upside down, looking for her. When she got back from whenever she was, she was going to kill him for the state he'd left her closet in.

At least her dad didn't know.

Holding his phone up to his ear, he tried calling her. Again. And again, she didn't pick up. At what point did he start panicking? At what point did he stop searching and inform her father that she was missing?

Daniel didn't have to think about it for too long. His heart leapt into his throat when there came a knock at her door. "Darling?" Came the voice of her father, Daniel's boss. "Can I come in?"

Panic held him in a vice as he climbed over her things, scattered all over the floor, and pulled open the door.

"Sir," Daniel said, holding the door just open enough to show his face. "How can I help you?"

Zac frowned at him. "Tell me honestly, is she in there?"

Daniel's answer was to swallow.

Zac pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're fired, Daniel," he said and strode away, phone pressed against his ear.

She strode into the house just a few minutes later. Feet bare and dirty, high heels dangling from her finger by the straps. Her wrists were rubbed raw and there were splattering of blood on her skin.

"Shit, kid," said Daniel as he pulled her in. "I was so damn worried about you."

She kissed his cheek and then reached up to wipe away the lipstick left behind. "Sorry, Danny," she said with an amused smile. "I got bored."

She grabbed his hand to pull him along. After her evening she just wanted to sit Daniel on her bed and ride his cock until she forgot above everything.

There was a distinctive click, a revolver being cocked. "You're fired, Daniel," came the voice of her father. "Get the fuck out of my house."

She pulled her hand out of Daniel's and looked at him. "You got fired?" She asked, heels swinging as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"He did, Princess," Zac answered, his gun still pointed at Daniel. "His one job was to protect you, and he failed," he finished, pulling his daughter behind him. "He needs to leave before I blow his brains out."

She rolled her eyes. Her dad was so damn dramatic sometimes. There was no way Daniel, or anybody else, would have been able to stop her from sneaking out when she wanted to.

Daniel looked at her, desperation in his eyes. But she was too busy picking at the blood beneath her nails. So, he turned his attention to her father. "Zac, please," he tried, stepping forward. "I just want to protect her."

Zac pulled the trigger and the bullet lodged itself in the wall beside Daniel's head. Daniel knew just how good a shot Zac was, knew he was missing on purpose. He adjusted his aim slightly. "Five." Daniel's eyes went wide. He turned on his heel and began rushing through the house. Zac followed, but he stayed at a walk and kept his aim trained on Daniel. "Four."

She'd had so many bodyguards in the last few years. When she was a little girl she'd had Lewis watching over her. And then she had Jensen for a good few years, and then Fernando. When Fernando left to work under a different boss, to work for the enemy (as her father said), Carlos watched over her.

She'd liked Carlos, had pulled him into her bed. He'd kissed her sweetly and taken her virginity, the two of them hidden beneath the sheets of her big bed.

It had gone on for a year before her father found out. Carlos had been her first everything. The first man to kiss her, the first man to see her in a state of undress, the first man bring her any sort of pleasure. She had really, truly loved him. She had wanted to run away with him.

But when her father was found out, Carlos was sent away. He was sent to work for someone else, someone that they had something of a partnership with. She had loved Carlos, and her father had loved him, too. He'd loved him with a son, and that was why he couldn't kill him. If it had been anybody else caught in his daughters bed, he wouldn't have hesitated.

As her father followed Daniel out of the house, she turned on her heel and marched towards her bedroom, humming to herself. All she needed now was to scrub the other man's blood from her skin and find something to soothe her wrists.

"What the fuck!" She cried as she pushed open her bedroom door.

Her room was a state. Her drawers had been emptied, things pushed from their shelves. Her wardrobe had been emptied, the clothes either crumpled on the floor or thrown over her unmade bed. It was like a hurricane had torn through the room.

If her dad didn't kill Daniel, she certainly would.

She ignored everything but the wardrobe. The rest of it could be dealt with tomorrow, but her poor wardrobe. That was her space, her creative space, and Daniel had defiled it. How dare he.

As soon as her wardrobe was back in order, she walked into her en suite and turned on the shower. A yawn left her lips as she stripped out of her dress and climbed under the steaming water.

The rest of her night was a blur. She yawned again as she washed her body. Ready to sleep, she climbed out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She fell into bed, crawled beneath her blankets, and immediately found herself asleep.

While she was sleeping, Zac was hard at work. He had people to do these things for him, sure, but he did it himself when it came to his daughter.

There must have been somebody that could look after his daughter. Someone experienced, like Fernando, or Lewis. Or Carlos.

He called Andrea, his right hand man, into his office. It had been Andrea's idea to look into their juniors, to see if any of them would be good enough to protect his daughter. That was how they got Lando, their best man

None of their juniors were. So, they looked a little further afield, at rookies working for other... empires.

Oscar Piastri. He had incredible statistics, stats that Zac and Andrea shouldn't have had access to. But they did, and they wanted him.

Andrea was privy to certain information about the different empires. He kept the secrets about his own empire, the McLaren empire, well guarded, but knew all the dirty secrets about the Ferrari empire, about the Williams empire, and, most importantly, about the Alpine empire.

He knew how staff were treated, knew what was expected of the juniors. That was why Oscar Piastri had such good statistics, because of how hard Bruno pushed him. Andrea and Zac both knew that Bruno was a piece of work. They knew how easy it was going to be to get Oscar away from him.

They sent him one message, holding nothing more than a job offer, and waited with baited breaths. Nobody else got to see this side of the boss, holding his hands together as if he was praying as they waited for Oscar to reply.

Three grey dots appeared on the screen. Oscar's reply appeared, only holding five words. The reply wasn't surprising: What's in it for me? Clearly, Oscar was a smart kid, Zac and Andrea could tell.

They laid it out for him, the benefits this job would come with. He'd be working for a bigger, more powerful empire, he would get paid more than he would working for Alpine, and there was more they could provide him with. Food and lodgings, anything he could have needed.

Interviews in this line of work wasn't an easy thing to arrange. But, as a junior, Oscar operated with a curfew. The interview was arranged for after the curfew. It was awkwardly done, a video call while Oscar hid himself in the junior barracks bathroom.

They outlined the job as much as they could with Oscar being part of the McLaren empire. Zac gave no information on his daughter as he tried to outline the requirements of the job. He made it clear that it wasn't going to be easy, and Oscar made it clear that he wanted the job.

All he had to do to accept the position was to show up at the house. Well, show up at the location provided that Zac and Andrea had given to him. The little café in the heart of town. A sweet little place, not the sort of place he would have expected to meet them.

They set Lando Norris, the best of their men, to pick him up. Lando took his favourite car, his baby. It was fast and sleek and far too expensive. It was an intimidation tactic, and it was working.

He pulled up, sunglasses covering his eyes as he climbed out of the car. The way he looked around was lazy. He pulled out his phone when he couldn't immediately find Oscar. Oscar couldn't tell what he was doing from where he was sitting. But he pulled his sunglasses down his face and looked around again.

Straightening up his tie, Oscar slipped out of his seat. He abandoned his coffee and strode over to the car. He had no doubt who this person was. His number plate was LAN, for goodness sake.

Lando stared at him as he approached. "Good weather we're having," he said, shoving his hands into his pocket.

"I think it might cloud over soon," Oscar answered.

Neither of them were looking up at the sky.

Lando checked him for weapons and listening devices as discretely as he could. When he determined that Oscar was clean, he gestured for him to get into the passenger seat of the car.

Oscar climbed in. He looked at Lando, staying quiet as he looked away. Lando was the best of the best, rivalled only by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. Being in the car with him was surreal.

The drive was silent. Lando fiddled with the radio until it played something softly. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove through Woking.

He pulled up to the house and parked his car up alongside more expensive cars. His car, which had once been the most impressive vehicle Oscar had ever seen, looked like crap compared to these.

"Good luck with the Princess," said Lando as he climbed out of the car.

Oscar swallowed and followed his lead. He climbed out of the car and walked up to the house. When he raised his fist to knock, he looked over his shoulder at Lando.

"Just go in," said Lando as he stroked the hood of his car.

Steadying his nerves, Oscar walked in.

***

This day was bullshit.

Her father kept her in his office for the day. As hard as she tried to leave, one look and he pulled her back, sitting herself in that little seat just behind his desk.

She could only file her nail for so long before she was completely and utterly bored. Standing up, she stretched her arms above her head. "I'm gonna-"

"Not until your new bodyguard starts," her father said, not even bothering to turn around.

She groaned and threw herself back onto her seat, hands dramatically covering her eyes. "Dad, I'm literally dying of boredom out here," she mumbled and groaned again, this time louder. "When is he starting?"

"Soon," Zac promised as he straightened out a stack of paper. "Andrea is just putting him through orientation."

She groaned again, for the third time in the space of a minute. "Quit bein' so dramatic," her dad said, shaking his head. "We wouldn't be having to do this if you didn't sneak out the other day."

Her gaze settled into a glare. If her new guard didn't show up soon, she was gonna steal her dad's gun and just leave. But her dad seemed to know what she was thinking. He pulled his gun from his belt and shoved it into his desk drawer.

Two minutes later, there was a knock at the door. "Touch my gun and you're dead," he said as he stood up. Still wearing that glare, she threw her nail file at him. It didn't go very far, fell to the floor just in front of her seat.

Her father opened the door. "Oscar Piastri?" He asked, holding his hand out. From her seat, she couldn't see as her dad shook the young man's hand and welcomed him into the office.

He was pretty, she could tell that immediately. He was pretty, but he looked easy. Easy to manipulate, and that was the most important thing. "Oscar," her father said, leading him across the room, over to her. "This is my daughter."

She stood from her seat and folded her arms over her chest. "You're my new bodyguard?" She asked, clearly unimpressed.

"I am," he said and held his hands out towards her. "I'm Oscar."

For a moment, she just stared at his hand. Oscar kept it held out, waiting for her to shake it. "Oh, boy," he heard from his right as her father sat back in his seat.

Keeping her arms folded over her chest, she marched past him, her shoulder hitting his. Oscar allowed himself to be pushed out of the way. With her father there, he wasn't going to dare to do anything but go with what she wanted. As she strode out of the office, her hips swaying, Oscar followed.

He kept his eyes on the back of her head. Don't look down. Don't look at the way she's moving her hips. Don't look down.

She knew what had happened, why she needed a new bodyguard. Even with everything Andrea had told him, Oscar didn't think she could be that bad. He was very, very quickly proven wrong.

"Where are we going?" Oscar asked as she pushed her way into her bedroom. Maids had cleaned up since Daniel had torn it apart in an attempt to look for her. Her pyjamas were on a heap in the floor, one she stepped over to get to her black purse.

"Out," she said, the first word she'd spoken to him, as she placed the bag on her shoulder and strode past him.

Oscar followed, keeping close to him. Too close, and he had five seconds to fix it. But he didn't fix it. He stayed walking far too close to her, so close she could feel him breathing down her neck.

"Fucking hell, stop," she said and Oscar stopped. She turned on her heel, turned towards him, and held out her arms. At first, it was just to see how close he was. When her arms hit him, she pushed so that he stumbled back.

He steadied himself and stepped towards her again. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest and glaring.

"I've been hired to protect you," said Oscar, keeping himself calm.

Her glare was nasty, vicious. "You need to stay three paces behind me, okay?" She stepped closer to him. "I'm gonna get on and do whatever the fuck I want to do, and you're gonna let me, okay?" They were stood chest to chest. Her fingers touched his chest, danced up towards his neck while she let a coy smile grace her features.

He held his breath until her nail dug into his throat. Oscar reached up and grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling it away from his neck. "I've been hired to protect you," he said again. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

The smile dropped from her face, replaced with a glare. She turned back around and marched away, steps quick to get away from him. Oscar stayed just a pace behind her.

Oscar hadn't been ill prepared for this job. Andrea had given him plenty of warning of just how much trouble she was going to be. But he was prepared.

She didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. That was fine, Oscar was happy to follow her around and watch her antics. He followed her to a café, where she met with friends, followed her out to the park and listened to their chatter and gossip. He didn't take in much of the information, not unless he thought it was important.

Not until they started whispering about him.

His cheeks blushed red, but he stayed standing there. If he wasn't watching her, he was looking around, looking for any sign of danger. She whispered to her friends, giggling behind their hands. What they were saying, Oscar didn't care.

She still hadn't spoken to him as he drove her back to the house. Her car was a dream to drive. She handled beautifully, better than anything Oscar had driven when he was with Alpine. He couldn't hide his grin as he drove towards the house.

As soon as the car had stopped, she climbed out and marched towards the house. Oscar parked as quickly as he could and climbed out of the car, following her up the stairs and into the house.

She disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door in his face. Oscar let out a breath and raised his fist, knocking on the door. "Hey," he called and tried the handle. "Let me in!"

Nothing. Of course it didn't work. It shouldn't have been surprising. Oscar didn't panic. He did what he was best at and stayed calm. Shrugging off his jacket, he left it by the door and walked out of the house.

It was a gamble, whether her window was open or not. He walked around the back of the house, counting the windows until he found hers.

Oscar wasn't built to climb. He wasn't good at it, but he still tried, using the window ledge beneath to climb up to her own. His knuckles it the glass before he tried to push the window up, but it wouldn't budge.

Fuck.

He knocked away and watched as she turned around. Her eyes went wide but she didn't move, took a moment to watch him. Oscar tried again to open the window.

Finally, she walked over. She pushed open the window, allowing Oscar into her bedroom. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked, heading towards her wardrobe as Oscar grabbed his jacket from outside of her room.

She couldn't deny that he looked good. With his jacket hanging over his arm, she could really see him, and she appreciated it. He was no Carlos, but he'd do.

Grabbing a dress from her wardrobe, she held it up to her body. "Did you ever think that maybe I shut you out of my room because I didn't want you in here?" She asked as she hung it over her wardrobe door and went digging for some shoes.

"Did you ever think that I can't trust you enough to leave you in here on your own?" He responded as he leaned against the wall.

She scowled at him as she stepped back out of the wardrobe, a pair of high heels hanging by the straps from her fingers. "Fucking creep," she mumbled and pulled down the zip on her skirt.

She didn't look away from him as she pushed her skirt down. Oscar didn't look away. She was challenging him, he knew, and he wasn't going to let her win. Once her skirt was on the floor, she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall away from her shoulders.

She stepped towards him, much like she had in the corridor earlier. "Do you know something, Oscar?" She mused as she stepped closer to him. He kept watching her, eyes locked onto her own. "I always get what I want. Do you wanna know what I want right now?"

His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. Even when she settled her arms on his chest, moving them up to his shoulders, he remained stoic. "What?" He asked. His wife didn't betray just how nervous he was feeling, just how much he was sweating.

Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You."

Oscar took her arms from around his neck. He kept a hold of them as he walked her back, so that she was sitting on her bed. "You're a brat," he said and stepped back, leaving her there.

Their interactions through the evening were very limited. Any attention she wanted, Oscar wasn't going to give to her. That she caught onto very quickly.

Daniel had been the same when he first started. Of course, he'd never resorted to climbing through her window. Oscar was dedicated, and that made him a problem.

A problem that wouldn't let her sneak out, a problem that wouldn't sleep with her.

She was in agony.

The next day followed much in the same pattern. Oscar walking too close, Oscar watching everything she did. She couldn't escape his watchful eye. When she went to the bathroom he was standing outside, periodically nodding.

On her third day with Oscar guarding her, she was bored out of her mind. When she want to the bathroom, he followed to stand guard outside of the door. This was becoming her normal and she hated it.

There was a window in the bathroom. Small, too high for her to reach without assistance. For a moment she contemplated it. Contemplated how she was going to execute this admittedly stupid plan.

Beneath the sink was a little step stool. It was from when she was younger, when she was too small to reach her tooth brush in the cabinet above the sink. She pulled it out and positioned it beneath the little window.

It didn't give her much height, just enough to grasp the window ledge and hoist herself up.

There was a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" She called back, but it sounded weird. She hadn't been this... polite to him since that first night in her room.

She hurried herself up. Pushing open the window, she slipped out and dropped down onto the gravel below.

The stones bit into her skin. But she didn't care. Pushing herself up and wiping the stones away, she could hear Oscar pounding on the door. When she didn't reply, the knocks became something more. Louder, harsher, his entire body pushing against it.

She didn't stick around long enough to find out. Straightening up her skirt, she walked around from the house.

The cameras were following her, she knew. Security guards must have been watching her, must have been radioing Oscar of her whereabouts.

She didn't bother running. There was no point when the gates would have taken their time to swing open. No, she walked calmly, like she had all the time in the world.

Suddenly, her feet were no longer touching the floor. A grunt left his lips as he picked her up and turned her around. "I don't think so," he said and put her back down.

She stared up at him, arms folded over her chest. He could see the indents of the gravel against her arm, the grazes on her skin. But then she stepped around him.

Oscar picked her up again. He scooped her up and placed her over his shoulder, ignoring her shriek as he carried her back into the house.

"Fucking put me down!" She shouted, fists pounding against his back. "Oscar! Put me down! Now!"

His only response was to tighten his grip on her and march through the house. He didn't care as he took her past her fathers men, past Lando and Pato. When they sniggered at her, she held up her middle finger towards them.

Once he got to her bedroom, Oscar put her down. She glared up at him, arms folded over her chest. "I need to use the bathroom," she said.

Oscar grinned down at her. She looked somewhat embarrassed, unable to meet his eye. "Come on," he said and gestured for her to lead the way.

She walked down the hall, wearing a nasty scowl and looking at the floor. As soon as she got to the bathroom, she turned to shut the door, to try and lock him out. But Oscar shouldered his way in. "Hey!" She cried and tried to push him out of the bathroom. "What do you think you're doing?!"

He grabbed the step stool, folded it up and tucked it beneath his arms. He pulled the window shut and locked it, pocketing the key. "I'll be right outside," he said and placed a single pat to the top of her head. It was condescending as all hell and she wanted to kill him.

***

A year had passed. An uneventful year. For six months she'd attempted to sneak out. The first month of that was to get away from the house, to get out to the club and see her girl friends on the nights that Oscar said no.

But those other five months weren't because she wanted to get away. Whenever she snuck out, Oscar would be the one to carry her into the house. It was like he didn't trust her to walk back on her own. That was how she ended up over his shoulder or in his arms, being carried like a princess.

The kidnapping attempts had stopped, too. There had been a couple sicne Oscar started his job as her bodyguard. But he had thwarted all of them, kept her safe when somebody tried to climb in through her window.

On this day, Zac called Oscar into his office. He gave him a time and Oscar readied himself for it. He spend his morning with her, following her as she ate her breakfast.

She no longer tried to fight him at every turn. Oscar was grateful for it. He was able to see how pretty her smile was and that filled him with warmth. She was cute when she didn't want to kill him, he realised.

"Come on," he said once she'd finished her breakfast. He picked up her plate, dumped it in the sink, and offered her his hand.

"What do you think my dad wants?" She asked as she linked her fingers through his own.

Oscar pulled her out of the kitchen and through the house. He checked his watch. Just fifteen minutes until Zac wanted to see him. He swallowed. "I don't know," he answered and led her through the halls.

Maybe Zac wasn't happy with the work he was doing. Maybe he didn't think Oscar was doing a good enough job at protecting her. Maybe he didn't like that Oscar sometimes held her hand as they walked together.

He took her through the house and to the library. There Lando was sitting, tapping away at his phone. "Hey, Princess," he called as Oscar sat her down and squeezed her shoulders. "You sitting with me?"

"Looks like it," she mumbled and let out a yawn. She watched as Oscar disappeared out of the library, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door was shut, Lando leaned forward and snapped his fingers in front of her face. "What's up?" He asked as she turned to face him. "What's got you thinking so hard?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her seat. "How long did it take for Carlos to fuck me?" She mumbled, resting her cheek against her first. "What, a couple months? Maybe less than that?" She mumbled.

Lando snorted. "It took him a month to fall in love with you," he mumbled, his foot knocking against her own. "And Daniel slept with you on his first night on the job," he answered, finally locking his phone screen and letting it fall into his lap.

"What's taking Oscar so long?"

He properly laughed when those words left her lips. "Oscar is too much of a professional to sleep with you," he said and mockingly wiped at his eyes. She scowled at him. "He's falling for you, though."

Her head snapped towards him. "Huh?"

He nodded. "Yeah, princess." The name was mocking and she flipped him off. "Look, he wouldn't be holding your hand and shit if he wasn't, okay? That boy is falling for you. You need to trust me; he told me himself."

She leaned forward. "Lando, I need you to tell me exactly what he said."

Lando went to reply, but the library doors opened and Oscar strode in. "What now, Sweetheart?" He asked and offered her his hand.

She allowed herself to be pulled out of her seat and grinned at Lando. Sweetheart? He mouthed, and she let her tongue stick out from between her teeth.

***

Another dingy warehouse. Another splintering wooden chair. And another ugly man giving her father demands over the phone.

It had been so damn long since she'd gotten kidnapped, she was almost at a loss for what to do. Almost, but not quite.

The minute she realised she was getting kidnapped, she took a bobby pin from her hair and tucked it into the back of her skirt. The kidnappers slapped cuffs on her wrists and sat her on the uncomfortable chair.

She easily got her hands out of the cuffs, but these guys had weapons. They were certainly smarter than the last guys to kidnap her.

Oscar better get there soon.

She didn't know that as soon as they called to demand money, Zac had Oscar tracing the call. He let his computer do it's thing while he loaded his gun with bullets. He was going to do all he could to get her back.

As soon as he had the location, he set off with Lando and Pato. His knee bounced as Pato drove them, Oscar giving him the directions. God, they'd taken her so far away. There was no telling what they'd done to her for the time she'd been missing.

The outside of the warehouse wasn't well guarded at all. Lando and Pato counted all of the guards inside and Oscar caught sight of her.

The cuffs were still hanging from one of her wrists as she sat there. Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she getting up out of her seat and marching out of there like in all of the stories he'd heard about her?

"I'm going in," he whispered and pulled his gun from its holster.

But Lando pulled him back. "Wait," he said and gestured to Pato. "We'll make a distraction out the front and you go around the back," he said and Oscar nodded.

Lando and Pato's idea of a distraction was... interesting. At the sound of the music, several men headed outside. The ones that were left inside were easy for Oscar to take care of. When Pato started dancing, Oscar headed to the back of the warehouse.

He was a damned good shot. While Pato and Lando took out the men at the front, Oscar shot the others in the warehouse. When the first man hit the ground, the one who seemed to be running the operation pulled her out of her seat and pressed his gun to her head.

"Show yourself!" He demanded. He pushed the gun against her head more until it was tipped to the side.

Holding up his hands, Oscar walked into the warehouse. When he was told to put his gun on the floor and kick it away, he did. "You okay, Sweetheart?" He asked, looking at her.

"Never better," she answered, but her voice was shaking. Fuck, he needed to get her out of there.

"You're the big hero," said the man in charge. "You're here to save the day and ride away into the sunset." His laugh was utterly terrifying. "What if I just blew her head off right it front of you? Do you think this rich little bitch bleeds gold?"

Her eyes shut. This was it, she was going to die.

Red splattered across her face, but it wasn't her blood. The man in charge dropped his gun and slumped forward, the weight of his falling body pulling her to the floor with a shriek. Oscar shouted her name. He rushed over and pushed the dead body away from her own.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered and wiped at the blood on her cheek. Tears were falling and Oscar wiped them away as he checked her over for any injuries. Aside from a bruised wrist and trauma, she was okay.

Pulling her into his chest, Oscar looked past her. There was Lando, lowering his gun. His eyes moved to her, eyebrows raising in question. But Oscar shook his head and pushed her hair behind her ears.

Reaching up, she kissed his cheek. "Hey," Oscar whispered, pulling away from her. "C'mon, Sweetheart, not now," he whispered and pulled her to her feet.

She blinked up at him and wiped away her tears. "Come on, Oscar. Let me kiss you," she whispered, her lip wobbling.

His thumbs moved over the back of her hand in such a soothing manner. "I love you," he replied. "Really, I do. But I don't want to kiss you if you just want to sleep with me."

Her head hit his chest. "Don't do this now," she mumbled. "Not in this disgusting warehouse with a dead body behind us." She let her arms settle around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

The way he was looking at her, it had her ready to cry. She hid her head against his chest and shut her eyes, ignoring the way her heart was beating. "I don't want to just kiss you to sleep with you," she whispered and sucked in a deep breath. "I-I like you, Oscar."

His fingers touched her chin and tipped her face towards him. "Sweetheart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. And then he kissed her cheek, the one that wasn't covered in blood.

And then he kissed her, lips slotting against her own. She sobbed into his mouth and Oscar squeezed her tighter. It said all that it was supposed to. I'll watch over you, I'll keep you safe. I love you.

Taking her hand, Oscar led her out of the warehouse. In that moment he vowed to never let anything like this happen to her again.

[puppy-stevee]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

[randomshyperson]

Hey

Hope you get rid of this writers block soon ✨

How about hand holding no 34 with Wanda 🥺

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: holding hands while driving | warnings: none.

When you suggested taking the lead, it had much more to do with the crestfallen witch in the front seat than the retired Avenger's possible fatigue from driving for a few hours. Don't let Barton hear you say that.

Wanda gave you a brief smile as you took the driver's seat, and unfortunately, your attempt at conversation ended up being disastrous because you simply didn't know what to say to her.

Losing her country, and her brother, and growing up in a civil war only to be dragged from battle to battle her whole life doesn't seem like something you can fix, no matter how many bad jokes you say to try to make her smile. Still, you think you should keep trying. Because Wanda is so special, she's so sweet and clever, and you enjoy her company so much. She deserved all the good things life had to offer, even if she didn't believe it.

You end up getting so distracted by your own thoughts that you don't notice that Wanda has been stealing glances in your direction for a good few minutes until she finally calls you.

"Huh, sorry, I was distracted." You mumble, glancing at her quickly before focusing on the road again. "We'll be there in the morning if you're wondering."

She's looking at you funny. Maybe you mumbled something. It wouldn't be the first time you've let your thoughts slip away. It doesn't recall you that Wanda didn't need you to speak to know what you were thinking, and focused on the road, you didn't notice the brief red flash of her eyes either.

"I wasn't." She retorts, perhaps more harshly than she'd like. You don't know, but Wanda hates how she's a disaster whenever she tries to talk to you. But still, you never seem to mind her clumsiness. You laugh weakly, nodding. She uncrosses her arms, her nervous fingers gripping the seat. "I mean... this trip isn't so bad. And I wouldn't mind staying in the car a little longer."

You hum thoughtfully, clicking your tongue afterward. "I get it, I guess. The car feels safe, right? While we're here, no one on the team is fighting, nothing is falling apart. It's calm. It almost feels like... well, just a trip between friends." The tables have turned a bit, and now it's Wanda who feels the sudden urge to comfort you. You, who have been nothing but kind and considerate, who are watching your entire family fall apart because of a mistake she made in Lagos, even though everyone keeps telling her it wasn't her fault. 

"Maybe we should stay here." She murmurs, and at the same time, you both glance in the rearview mirror, where Clint and Scott are sleeping in the backseat. "Maybe we could just not leave." 

"We already left, Wands." You sigh sadly. One of your hands goes to the gearshift, there's a small curve in the road. "I did it, in Berlin, when I refused to fight my brother. And you did it, when you agreed to leave the Tower and get in this car." You say, one hand resting on the seat. "Maybe it's finally time for us to be proud of our choices and start standing up for what we believe in. Not just as a team, but as individuals." She knows you're talking about the accords, but she doesn't want to think about it again. Because for the past few weeks, everything has been a mess and within a few hours, she has the feeling that there won't be any more Avengers. So Wanda stops squeezing the seat and decides to squeeze your hand instead. You look at her immediately, before turning your attention back to the road. She makes a motion of pulling away, seeing your shoulders tense, but you adjust your grip to intertwine your fingers together. Her heart skips two beats in a row, but even with her voice cracking, she speaks; "You're right. We should honor our choices. And our feelings." There's a soft blush on her cheeks, which when you notice it in the rearview mirror, spreads to yours. 

You nod in agreement and don't let go of her hand anymore.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 3

max Verstappen x single mom!reader

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, jos is an even bigger asshole, barely proofread, logan's there, glazed-over mentioning of childhood trauma Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 7937 (i got so carried away holy shit) auth.note: listen, eagle boy swayed me with his pretty eyes and soft voice... also this was a great excuse for me to rewatch Mulan for the millionth time. spotify: i made a playlist

"Team meeting in ten," GP commented.

Max nodded, eyes following y/n through the window as she paced in the small courtyard, talking on her phone. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since they'd finished the Q and A the day before. Surprisingly, he'd actually enjoyed it. He told himself it was because she'd made sure to gather thought provoking questions, not because some of his answers had made her laugh and her laugh made him feel relaxed. GP turned to look out the window and Max quickly looked down at his plate, even though he'd just taken the last bite of his breakfast. When the engineer turned back, Max could feel his amused expression.

"Looks like it might rain," GP said casually.

Nodding again, Max washed down the last of his food with his coffee. "More chances for fuck ups."

"It's not a crime."

He finally looked up. "What?"

GP nodded towards the window.

"If rain was a crime, would they put god in prison?" Max asked, keeping his face blank when his friend snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're not a robot, Max."

From the corner of his eye he could see her approaching Christian, who was coming from the garage. "I never said I was."

"Then stop acting like one. You're still young, I guess you're attractive, and you're at the top of your career."

"Thank you for that endorsement," Max said drily. Horner had stepped aside with y/n, whose hands were moving as she spoke to him. "I'll be sure and put it in my Tinder profile."

GP's eyebrows lifted. "You have one?"

"Fuck no." He pushed his chair back. "I don't have time."

"Max," his friend sighed.

"I'll see you at the meeting." He took care of his dishes, making sure to thank the staff working the dining area before leaving the motorhome, telling himself it was so he could get some fresh air and clear his head for the meeting. His legs carried him around the corner to where y/n and Christian were still talking, and he boldly approached.

"…speak to him." Christian shot a look at Max.

"If he was joking I wouldn't think twice about it.," y/n said, frowning. "But I don't see how it could have been. He was extremely rude, implied I wasn't worth hiring based on my looks, and…"

Max kept his mouth shut, knowing she needed to do the speaking. Giving her a faint nod when she looked at him, he felt a glimmer of pride when she straightened her shoulders.

"I didn't spend four years in college – sorry, university – and work three jobs at once to be demeaned. I know I have the skills and drive to do my job, but if this team continues to foster that sort of toxic environment you'll have to look for a new social media admin," she said firmly.

He tried to but couldn't keep the smile from forming.

Christian looked slightly impressed, giving her a reassuring nod. "I understand. He's not employed by us, he's only here by our good graces."

"I know he's the father of the your top driver, and I spoke with him before coming to you," she said, as though Max wasn't standing right there.

Christian pressed his lips together and Max knew he was trying to hide his smile. "Of course. We'll deal with it, I promise."

"Thank you." She relaxed, sighing softly. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, Mr. Horner."

"It's Jos fucking Verstappen, he's the trouble," Christian muttered. "Don't worry, alright? If anyone ever gives you a problem, reach out to me."

She nodded. "Thanks again. Oh!" She turned to Max, smiling hopefully. "I already asked Checo and he said yes to doing it this week. Would you be up to 24 hours with you at Monaco? Not the full 24 hours since I don't want to watch you sleep, but I just stick with you for the rest of the day and show fans a behind the scenes look at what a practice or quali day for you looks like."

"Why?" he asked, still stuck on the thought of her watching him sleep.

"Well! Casual fans don't realize how much work goes into being you. The training and diet and analyzing and teamwork. All the stuff you do even before practice and quali, like walking the track."

"For the whole day."

"Yeah, except for sleeping. I mean, that would probably really ramp up views, but—"

"I'm not that interesting though," he said. Why would anyone want to spend a practice or quali day with him?

"Oh don't start with the modesty. You're an elite athlete. I'm not asking you to invite me into your bedroom and let me show your bed to the world, just a small peek at what you're like. We can highlight your sim racing, explain how it's helped you learn the tracks so well. Talk about your suit, why the fireproof is so important." She tipped her head. "Maybe a shot of your suitcase to prove you do have clothes other than Red Bull gear? If you do, because I'm beginning to think you only have one pair of jeans and a Red Bull shirt."

He laughed at that, shaking his head. "I guess I can do it. We'll see how Checo's goes."

"Perfect. Speaking of, I'm doing that tomorrow so I gotta start posting to hype it up—"

"Meeting in two minutes," Christian told them.

Max looked at him, chagrined to admit he'd forgotten the man was there. "On the way," he promised, rubbing the back of his neck when Christian shot him a knowing look and headed off. Turning back to y/n, he cleared his throat. "I'm not showing my suitcase to the world."

"Is it that embarrassing?" she asked, clicking her tongue in sympathy. "Do you have Red Bull boxers too?"

"No, I—" he cut off, remembering the company's joke birthday gift to him the year before. "Okay, I do, but they're not in my suitcase."

"At least let me throw a team logo pillow on the bed—"

"Absolutely not."

She fell into step next to him, an extra bounce in her walk. "Are you saying there's already one there?"

He shouldn't say it. It would probably be inappropriate. He told himself that repeatedly, even as he drew a breath and opened his mouth. "Why the interest in my bed?"

"I told you, I love sleep. Oh." She frowned. "It'll be a hotel bed anyway."

Opening the motorhome door for her, he glanced up at the cloudy sky as the aroma of flowers he couldn't identify washed over him. "No?"

"Are you saying you get an Airbnb?" she asked in confusion. "Do they even have that in Monaco—"

"You didn't know? I thought you asked Google everything," he teased.

Her brow furrowed deeply. "Didn't know what?"

"I live in Monaco. So no, it wouldn't be a hotel room."

The confusion melted away, her eyes widening a little. "Oh. Wow."

"Wow?" he echoed, heading to the stairs.

"You're rich rich."

"Don't say that," he requested, making a face. She made wealth sound dirty.

"In my defense I didn't think to look up everyone's salary when I got hired. I mean I knew you were rich, but—"

"Stop saying it—"

"Sorry." She smiled sweetly, which told him she wasn't sorry at all. "Have a good meeting, Max. Oh, wait!"

He stopped at the top of the stairs, huffing when she lifted her phone and snapped a photo of him. "Why do you need a picture of me right now?"

"To show the world that even Max Verstappen, three time world champion, record breaker and maker, is sometimes late for a meeting."

Dragging a hand over his face, he sighed. "You're in a strange mood today."

"I'm getting comfortable. It's what I do. Lull everyone into thinking I'm sweet and quiet, then once I know I can relax I let my true self out."

"I'm scared to ask what your true self is," he admitted, ignoring his phone when it began to buzz with a phone call.

"Chaos," she told him, snapping another photo. "And I'm so putting a team logo pillow on your bed next week."

"No," he warned her as she turned to go back down the stairs. "No pillow."

"Go to your meeting or I'll post on Twitter than you have Red Bull boxers!"

"You wouldn't."

"Try me, rich boy."

And, damn everything, he laughed. She spun at the bottom of the stairs, giving him a smile that was pure sunshine. Not about to tempt fate, he held up his hands in surrender and went to the conference room for the meeting, still smiling as he slid into his seat next to Checo. When the meeting was over he hung back, his smile long gone as he waited for whatever Christian had to say.

"Two things," Christian started, leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

Max rolled his water bottle between his hands and stayed silent.

"Your dad."

He nodded. "I'll talk to him—"

"He's on probation now. If he so much as looks at anyone the wrong way, he'll be banned from the garage and the paddock." Christian steepled his hands. "It would probably be best if I did it now, but…"

"I'll talk to him," Max said again, already dreading that conversation. "Sometimes he speaks before he thinks, and unfortunately y/n was on the receiving end."

"Are you defending him?"

"No. I'm saying…" What was he saying? He didn't even know himself, so how could he explain it to Christian?

"You're saying what he would expect you to say. Max." Christian leaned forward. "I know he's your father. But – what did y/n say? He creates a toxic environment."

Max was on his feet and pacing before he realized he was moving. "What do you want me to do? Cut him out of my life completely? He's my dad. He made me who I am." Slinging his cap onto the table, he ran a hand through his hair. "He gave up on a marriage so I could achieve my dreams. I know people call it abuse and yeah if I could change the past I would, or at least some parts, but… Would I be me if he didn't do what he did?"

Christian sighed and Max hung his head. The bitterness between team principal and his father had been around as long as he could remember. And he understood, he did. Most days even he didn't like Jos that much.

"What he said to y/n was unacceptable. I know that. When she told me, I…" He paused, unsure whether he wanted to admit what his first thoughts had been. Starting to pace again, he stopped at the window and looked outside, noting that the earlier clouds had rolled away. "I was ready to tell you to ban him."

Christian nodded. "You sure you want to talk to him? Because I'll do it. I don't have a problem telling him to go fuck himself."

"I should do it," Max said with a sigh.

There was silence from Christian, and Max finally snatched up his hat and sat back down. "I'll do it, Max."

He would never admit to the rush of relief at those words. "What was the other thing?"

"Y/n."

He set his jaw. "What about her?"

"She's off limits."

Max blinked. "How do you mean?"

"I've seen the way you look at her."

He pinched his eyebrows together. He wasn't aware he'd been looking at her in any particular way. He just…looked at her. It was true that she did make him smile a little bit more than he usually did, but that had to be due to her self-professed chaos—

"It's in her contract. Yours too, I'm sure."

"I'm – Nothing's happened." Yes, she'd slept in his private room and yes, his sheets had smelled of her and given him dreams he shouldn't have been dreaming. But nothing else had happened.

Soft hands, plush hips, bright eyes, lush mouth—

"Keep it that way. We can't afford another PR disaster."

Max snorted, unsure how anything he did – not that he would do anything – with y/n could come close to the disaster Christian had caused. "I'm not texting her, so."

"Cheeky bastard," Christian muttered. "Go get prepped for practice."

Grabbing his water bottle from the floor, Max left. Off limits. What the hell did that even mean? He couldn't be friendly with her? He couldn't keep his promise to watch a movie with Kevin?

Fuck Christian anyway, he wasn't one to talk about someone being off limits, he decided. He went down for another coffee, inconspicuously looking around for y/n. Not seeing her, he turned his attention to the upcoming practice, trying his best to push his worries about his father to the back of his mind.

When he approached the garage he saw her, and he frowned slightly when he saw Logan talking to her. Did they know each other? They obviously did, judging by the way she laughed at something he said. Sourness filled his mouth and he gulped down his water, grunting when a hand suddenly clapped his shoulder.

"Mate, you coming out tonight?" Lando asked with a grin.

"Not a good idea to go out before quali, mate," Max said automatically.

"I'm not gonna get drunk. A few of us are just going out to eat. You in?"

"I think I'll skip it. But we'll go out Sunday?"

Lando's grin widened and Max chuckled, knowing he was remembering what little he could of the celebration in Miami. Lando loved to party after a race. "Absolutely. Good practice, yeah?"

Max grinned, bumping fists with him before they parted. The American was still talking to y/n. Didn't he need to get ready? Go fluff his hair or something? Walking up to them, he nodded at Logan. "Have a good practice alright, mate?"

"Oh, yeah, better get to the garage." Logan turned and flashed a smile at y/n. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Be safe," she said.

She was smiling a little too hard, in his opinion. And then she was—

Hugging? Him?

Max felt like he might vomit.

"Later, Max," Logan said as he jogged off.

"What did he want?" Max asked.

She looked up from checking something on her camera. "Hm? Oh, nothing, just chatting. He's nice."

"Yeah, a complete sweetheart," he said with a roll of his eyes. Then, shoving the sourness away, he cleared his throat. "I've got the sim racing tomorrow after quali, then the race is Sunday."

Y/n blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yes?"

"I promised Kevin we'd watch the movie?" he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it, I know you're too busy. He hasn't even mentioned it again, I'm sure he's already forgotten." She turned slightly and knelt to take pictures of his car in the garage.

"But I promised."

"Max, it's really not that big a deal."

It was. To her it might not be. If she couldn't do something with her son when she had promised she could, she was able to do it another time. He couldn't just show up to her flat to watch a movie. And Kevin had been so excited… He tried not to remember all the promises that had been made to him as a child, promises he had learned at an early age would never be kept. "Y/n…"

She looked up at him, drawing a breath to, he was sure, tell him again that it was fine. But she paused, studying his face, and he heard her sigh as she lowered the camera. "This is really important to you, isn't it?"

"And to Kevin," he pointed out.

"He did talk about it a lot last night before he went to sleep. Made sure the hotel tv had Disney plus and asked if Ellie would buy some popcorn…" She sighed, smiling. "Did you want to do it next week before Monaco?"

"I was thinking today? After the practice and debrief. If you're not too busy," he added, unintentionally looking towards the Williams garage.

"No, I don't have any plans. Just editing and posting, and I can do that while you two watch a movie. I've got plans for dinner, but there's plenty of time."

"Plans?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual.

"Yeah! Logan offered to take me out to see a little of the town. He's offered to be my tour guide."

At night. Now he knew he would vomit. "How delightful," he managed.

"Yeah, he's sweet. Don't worry, I won't give away any secrets."

The sourness returned, doubled, and he recognized it now as jealousy. Which was beyond ridiculous, because she wasn't his to be jealous over. Seeing that she was about to stand he immediately offered his hand, easily steadying her as she rose to her feet.

"Thanks."

He wondered what sort of cream she used on her hands. They were so soft. "Y/n—"

"Max!"

Y/n's smile faded and she practically snatched her hand away. "I'll message you the hotel info," she said, turning on her heel and sweeping into the garage.

"I need to talk to you," his father demanded.

Looking into the garage, he saw that he had a full thirty minutes before practice began. No way out of this conversation. Nodding, he followed his father to a relatively secluded spot, keeping his head down.

*-*

"His father is such an asshole, honestly. We were talking outside the garage and he marched up like he owns the—" Y/n glanced to make sure Kevin still had his headphones on and wasn't listening in. Seeing that he did and wasn't, she turned back to Ellie. "—fucking place and barked at him all 'I need to talk to you' like the guy isn't about to go out on the track."

Ellie made a face. "What a prick. What did he have to say to him that was so important?"

Y/n shrugged, bending to gather the dirty pair of socks off the floor. "No idea. He dragged him off and I could see them but couldn't hear anything. I felt so bad for Max."

"I would have too. And he didn't say anything when he got back to the garage?" Ellie smoothed the bedding while y/n stuffed the dirty laundry into a sack.

"Not to me." Sighing, y/n dropped the sack inside the bathroom and then got down on her hands and knees to make sure nothing embarrassing was lying around. "He looked like a kid getting yelled at, Ellie. I had no idea his dad was that much of an—"

She saw Kevin moving and stopped, getting to her feet while he set his tablet and headphones on the table. "Gotta pee, mama," he said, sliding out of the chair.

"Did you finish your game?" she asked while Ellie looked around to make sure the hotel room was presentable.

"Yeah, it's easy," Kevin said.

"Are you gonna tell him?" Ellie whispered.

"No… What if he can't make it? I don't want to get his hopes up." Y/n pushed the chair in at the table and checked the tablet, seeing that Kevin had indeed finished the alphabet game she'd downloaded that morning for him.

"If he doesn't come, maybe we can—" Ellie laughed when there was a knock at the door. "Never mind."

"It might not be him," y/n muttered, even though she knew it had to be. He'd been so insistent, and she'd been able to tell that it was possibly more important to him than it would be to Kevin.

"I'll make sure the lil rugrat washes his hand," Ellie murmured, slipping into the bathroom.

Y/n rubbed her hands on her thighs and went to open the door, giving the hotel room one last glance before doing so. And, just as she'd known, Max was in the hallway. "Hey," she greeted softly, eyes widening a little when she saw he was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie. "Holy shit, you're allowed to wear non-Red Bull clothes?"

He snorted, letting out a laugh when she just stared at him. "Very funny."

"No, no, I'm serious. Isn't that in your contract or something?" Stepping back, she finally gave him a grin. "C'mon in."

"I don't know if he's allowed, but I brought some sweets." Max held up the grocery bag hanging from one finger.

"Yeah, he's allowed. No allergies or anything," she assured him, closing the door once he'd stepped inside. "He's washing his—"

"Mister Max!"

Y/n nearly teared up. Her son sounded so excited, and she had a moment of panic for letting him befriend Max. He was too busy to drop by regularly, and after Monaco Kevin would be staying home with Ellie, so—

"There's my little mate!"

Fuck's sake, even Max sounded excited. As though a movie with a three year old was the height of his day. Looking on as he swung Kevin up and spun him in a circle, she took the bag and emptied the packets onto the table while Ellie greeted Max and brought out the popcorn from where she'd hidden it from Kevin. Max and Kevin talked nonstop to one another, Max telling him about practice after Kevin gave him a detailed report on what he'd done all day. The boy grabbed his tablet and showed him the games he'd played, showing off his alphabet skills.

"You're good with letters, yeah? Maybe you'd be good learning a new language?" Max suggested.

"Do you know a new language?" Kevin asked.

"He's really good with him," Ellie whispered to y/n.

"Shh," she hissed. Because she already knew. And she didn't need it pointed out to her. Besides, she was listening to Max tell Kevin about the languages he spoke, then to him rattle off a few sentences in each one, much to Kevin's amazement.

"Can you teach me?" he asked hopefully.

"When I can, kleine maat." Max ruffled Kevin's hair. "That means little mate."

"You're my big mate," Kevin decided.

"Grote maat," Max said, repeating it slowly a couple times before Kevin said it properly. "There you go. You'll be speaking Dutch like a pro in no time."

"You want a drink, Max?" Y/n offered. "We don't have Red Bull, sorry—"

"Water's fine. Thanks."

"Can I have water too, mama?"

Nodding, y/n fixed their drinks while Kevin turned on the TV and opened Disney+, rolling her eyes when he told Max the password so he could put it in for him. She saw that Ellie was putting on her shoes and raised her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, I don't want to intrude on big mate, little mate bonding time," Ellie said with a small smile. Peeling Kevin from Max long enough to give him a quick hug, she grabbed her wallet and phone. "And I've seen Mulan about six hundred times, so I'm just gonna go for a walk. Take pictures. Get a coffee and a pastry."

"Have fun," y/n said.

"Mhmm, you too," Ellie said with a smirk as she left.

She rolled her eyes and handed Max his drink then Kevin his cup. Motioning for Max to have a seat on the small sofa, she couldn't help but smile when Kevin immediately climbed to sit next to him, and had the feeling that before the movie was over her son would be cuddled close to his big mate.

"Join us?" Max asked while Kevin looked for the movie.

"Work," she reminded him, transferring the sweets and popcorn to the coffee table and getting her laptop. "I'll watch from here."

"It doesn't look very comfortable."

"It shouldn't. It's work."

He looked ready to argue, but instead took a sip of his water and grabbed a bag of candy. Tossing it onto the table, he gave a small shrug when she looked at him. "You said you like strawberry milk."

Y/n looked from him to the bag several times. He remembered that? She'd mentioned it during the Q and A, when the question had been other than red bull what's your favorite drink? Staring at the bag, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. No one had bought her candy in so long… "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he said softly.

She almost told him he didn't have to, but she knew that he already knew that. He'd done it because… She didn't know. Maybe to apologize for his father's behavior. Maybe to show he listened. Maybe, just maybe, because he'd seen it in the shop, remembered her liking strawberry milk, and had bought it because that was something he did, buy a little something for no other reason than you said you liked it.

She tried to focus on work, but the movie kept getting her attention. Finally she gave up, scheduling the posts she'd edited and closing her laptop. Grabbing a bottle of water, she joined them on the sofa as Mushu revealed himself to Mulan. As she'd expected, Kevin had already crawled into Max's lap, sharing his bag of popcorn with the man as they both focused on the movie.

"Mama," Kevin whispered, reaching for her.

She scooted closer, sighing as he turned so he could lean against her arm. Max shifted, and she tried to act nonchalant when he draped his arm behind her on the back of the sofa. Smoothing her son's hair, she pretended not to notice when the arm slid to her shoulders. He probably hadn't even noticed, she told herself, aware that his eyes were locked on the TV screen, paying attention to the movie. When Kevin's favorite part began he sat up, quickly sliding to the floor to sing along and she fully expected Max to pull away from her.

But he didn't, and she pulled her knees up, unable to focus on anything except the weight of his arm around her. It was solid but not uncomfortable, a very real reminder that she hadn't been in this position in a very long time.

"He's so mean," Kevin mumbled as Shun-Yu appeared on the screen. Y/n waited for him to hurry over to climb into her lap but he chose Max instead, and she bit back a sigh when the man gently soothed him, hugging him close.

"It's okay, kleine maat. The good guys will beat him, yeah?" he murmured, pausing the movie.

Kevin nodded against Max's shoulder. "Yeah but he's bad."

"A lot of people are," Max said softly. "But if we focus on that we don't see the good. Do you think about your happy days more or your bad days?"

"Happy days," Kevin said.

"Because they make you happy, yeah? If you think about bad days you'll always be having them. It's like that with people. Focus on the good and do what you can to keep the bad from happening. Bad happens, but the good will always be there."

"Okay."

"You ready to finish the movie?" Max asked gently.

Kevin nodded.

Max finally looked at y/n, glancing down when he saw the way she was staring at him. "I didn't—"

"No, you're good," she promised in a whisper, picking up the remote to resume the movie then hugging her knees. If she didn't occupy her arms, she would throw them around him. Usually she had to explain those things to Kevin. Ellie helped, of course, but Kevin always came to her for more explanation after a life lesson. But Max… He'd explained it so eloquently and gently that he'd understood. And she didn't know why, but, god help her…

It was the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

His arm stayed around her shoulders through the rest of the movie. When Mulan was cast out, she got a little emotional as she always did, even after over six hundred views, and she felt his arm tighten around her, hesitating a tiny bit before letting her head lean against him. All she could smell now was him, the gentle but memorable sandalwood and amber scent that she remembered well from the day before.

"Gotta pee," Kevin announced a little bit later, clambering down and running to the bathroom. Max took the remote to pause the movie.

Y/n began to pull away, lifting her head when he squeezed her arm.

"You're fine," he whispered.

His face was so close. Seeing a tiny piece of popcorn on his chin, she reached up to brush it away, freezing at the sound of his sharp inhale. "Sorry, you got a little…"

When the hell had his eyes become so blue? Just a day ago they'd been a normal blue. Now they reminded her of the antique blue willow china her great grandmother had treasured. Her gaze slipped to his mouth and quickly moved back to his eyes and she heard him inhale again.

"Max?"

"Y/n, I…" His eyes flicked down and she unconsciously licked her lips.

She knew she shouldn't but she suddenly, desperately, wanted to know what it was like to kiss him. She hadn't thought about kissing anyone in what felt like a lifetime, but now she needed it. Lifting her chin slightly, she dropped her hand to his chest. "Max—"

"Y/n, you… I—"

"Okay!"

She snatched herself away from Max as though she'd been burned, going so far as to jump to her feet while Kevin rushed back to the sofa. "Go ahead and hit play, I'll be back in just a minute," she promised, nearly tripping over nothing in her haste to get as far away from Max as possible. "Hit play, it's fine, I've seen it a million times."

Once in the bathroom she closed the door and leaned against it, covering her face with both hands. What the hell was wrong with her? Just because she hadn't been kissed since— She dropped her hands, wrinkling her nose in thought. Kevin was three years and two months, and… At any rate, it had been so long she'd assumed she was never going to be kissed again. She hadn't even thought about it in ages, because she'd been so focused on work and raising her son and trying to survive. Now, all of a sudden, she was craving one so bad she'd practically begged him.

He'd been about to tell her he couldn't. She was sure of that. Which only made it even more embarrassing. How could he even want to? She'd seen the girlfriends of other drivers on the grid, there was no way he'd be even remotely interested in her. She wasn't a model or tennis star or whatever their occupations were.

Not to mention she couldn't. It would be wrong on so many levels. What kind of impression would her behavior leave on her son? Not to mention the troubles it would cause at work? And it was in her contract that any sort of fraternization with other members of the team were forbidden. She'd known that but she had read the full contract on the flight to Italy. If she and Max did anything it would eventually come out and she'd be jobless again, this time in a foreign country.

Checking her phone when she felt it buzz in her pocket, she sighed while reading Logan's text.

We're still on right?

She wanted to say no. The best thing for her to do would be to suffer through the rest of the movie, say goodbye to Max, have an early dinner, put Kevin to bed, then take the world's coldest shower. But she was already typing out her reply.

Of course! Looking forward to it.

And she was, she thought, seeing the delivered change to read then the three little dots that he was typing a message. Logan was fun. Nice. Completely uninterested in her romantically, she thought with a sigh.

Great. Be there at 8 to pick you up. Give Kev a high 5 for me?

Will do.

Pushing away from the door, she turned on the water to wash her hands and jumped slightly when there was a gentle knock.

"Y/n?"

"I'm almost done," she called.

She heard his sigh. "Can I come in?"

No. "Yeah, sure."

He opened the door and stepped in, and she swallowed when he closed the door behind him. "I…"

"Max, don't," she groaned, washing her hands and grabbing the towel. "You don't have to tell me you wouldn't have… Even if I wanted you to. I know."

"Wouldn't have what?" he asked.

God, could the moment get any more embarrassing? "I – You – Jesus, never mind."

"Kiss you?" he murmured.

Why did the way he said it sound like so much more than a kiss? "It's fine. Go back and finish the movie."

"Y/n, I can't."

"You have to leave?" she asked.

"What – no, not the movie," he said. Cupping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply and dropped his hand after a few seconds, looking pained. "I can't kiss you."

"Oh." Oh. "Do you have a girlfriend or—"

"If I had a girlfriend I wouldn't be in this tiny toilet with you."

And she believed him. He didn't seem the type to put himself in a situation that could be misinterpreted if he had a partner. "Right. Of course. Then…"

"It's…" He sighed.

"Are you gay? Because I won't tell any—"

"I'm not gay," he cut in gently. "It's… I'm not allowed to kiss you."

She blinked, suddenly understanding. And she wondered if he'd read the contract, too. "Right. Neither am I."

"Christian talked to you too?"

"No? Why would he?"

"He told me you're off limits." Max shook his head. "Said I look at you or something."

"Oh." He did? And just how did Max look at her? "I see."

"And it's in our contracts. Yours and mine, I mean. So… I can't."

She nodded. "Of course. Understood. No more explanation necessary, Max."

"I wouldn't want you to lose your job," he said softly.

She continued to nod. "Got it. Thanks."

He tipped his head, then reached to take the towel from her and she realized she was still drying her hands. "I'll still be Kevin's friend."

Still nodding, she picked up her hand cream and squeezed a dollop into her palm. "Thanks. He likes you."

"I like him too." He hesitated, watching her carefully. "You okay?"

"Peachy keen," she promised, rubbing the cream into her hands. "Just getting ready for my dinner."

His lips settled into a fine line. "Your date."

The way he said it irritated her. As though she was in the wrong for making plans with a new friend. "It's not a date, but yes."

"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time," he said with absolutely no emotion.

"Well, he's not contractually obligated to be nice to me, so… I know I will," she said, forcing as much sweetness into her voice as possible.

"I'm not nice because of a contract," he snapped.

"Right, sorry, my mistake. He won't not kiss me because of a piece of paper," she corrected.

Max's eyes flashed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "I thought it wasn't a date?" he asked carefully.

Good, at least he had some emotion. "Oh, so I'm only allowed to kiss him if we're on a date?"

"I didn't say—" He cut off, pressing his lips tight together and exhaling slowly. "You said it wasn't a date."

"Why do you care either way?"

"Is it a date or not?" he ground out.

"It's not." She took her hair down from the ponytail as he sighed with something like relief. "But it could be in the future."

"What, so you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?"

"If I kiss him, it'll be because both of us want it," she said. She knew she was being silly, maybe even a little stupid. But he was acting as though he were doing her a favor. As though he were somehow honorable, a gentleman even, because he refused to do what she now knew they both wanted.

"Y/n, I can't—"

"A word I'm sure you're not used to saying about yourself," she muttered under her breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, an edge in his voice.

"I didn't know that 'can't' was in your vocabulary is all." Looking at her phone to check the time, she cleared her throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to change."

He hesitated while she opened her makeup bag. "Do you want to kiss him?"

"Why do you care?"

He visibly bristled. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Does he have a reputation for hurting women?" She picked up her hairbrush, and had brushed out her hair completely before he finally answered.

"No." It sounded like it hurt him to say it. "He's nice."

"Then you don't have to worry."

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, no." She laughed humorlessly. "You don't get to ask that. Now please, I have to change."

He stared at her, looking annoyed and irritated, his jaw still twitching. Then, with a huff, he turned to open the door. And froze when he saw the dress hanging from the hook. "Is… That's what you're wearing?"

"Oh my god, Max, you're starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend."

"I'm not jealous," he snorted.

"And you're not my boyfriend," she snapped.

She waited for him to turn around and restart their argument. Altercation. Whatever it was. Instead, he muttered something under his breath and snatched the door open. Went out, closing it. And sounded perfectly normal when he apologized to Kevin and resumed the movie.

Y/n was still annoyed even after changing and doing her makeup. She fussed over her hair, unsure whether she wanted to wear it up or down, finally leaving it down. She was fully aware that she was putting more work into her appearance than she would have if Max hadn't said what he had, and still knew she was being silly and stupid. Hadn't she just told herself nothing could happen between them?

Yes, but maybe if he hadn't acted as though he were doing an immense favor she wouldn't be so upset. I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Indicating that if he kissed her and they were found out, his job was secure.

"Sanctimonious prick," she muttered while she spritzed perfume on her wrists and rubbed them together. As she exited the bathroom the outer door of the room opened and Ellie came in, her jaw dropping when she saw her.

"Holy shit babes, you look amazing!"

She smiled, doing a turn for her friend. "You think so?"

"His jaw is gonna be on the floor the whole time. Holy shit, milf alert." Ellie whistled softly, waving her hand as though overcome with heat.

Y/n giggled. "Thanks."

The movie was ending and Kevin oohed and aahed over her dress, telling her over and over how pretty she was. Max stared at her, his jaw set, but said nothing, looking away and starting to clear up the remains of the snacks.

"Isn't she pretty, grote maat?" Kevin asked.

And even though her back was to him, she felt his gaze. Glancing over her shoulder at him while she fastened her necklace, she watched his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. "Very pretty, kleine maat."

"You're supposed to tell her," Kevin whispered. "Always tell a lady she's beautiful. Right, aunt Ellie?"

"That's right, buddy," Ellie said proudly. She gave y/n an odd look, silently asking what had happened, narrowing her eyes when y/n merely shrugged.

"Because women are pretty all the time," Kevin went on and y/n smiled. At least she was doing something right…

After fastening her earrings she turned from the dresser, breath catching in her throat when she found Max staring at her. Vaguely aware of Ellie telling Kevin to wash his hands so they could eat the dinner she'd brought, she squatted, getting her heels from her suitcase, along with her shawl.

"Je bent mooi," Max said.

She met his gaze as she rose to her feet. "What's that mean?"

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you." And though she knew it was catty, she couldn't help the words that slipped out of her mouth. "Do you think Logan will like it?"

His jaw twitched. "He'd be stupid not to."

"That doesn't answer my question," she practically cooed, slipping on her heels.

He made a sound of disgust in his throat. "He's annoying and dumb sometimes, but he's not stupid. So, yes, I think he'll like it."

"Look at you, hyping me up." She wasn't stupid either, she could hear and feel the jealousy. Good, she thought, getting her small handbag and transferring her few necessities to it.

"Is he picking you up?" Max asked. "Or are you meeting him somewhere?"

"Are you gonna stick around and question his intentions?" she scoffed. "Because if so, I'm meeting him."

"I just—"

"Do you want some pasta, Mister Max?" Kevin asked as he came out of the bathroom with Ellie.

"Ah, maybe next time," Max said after clearing his throat. "You eat some for me, hm?"

She wanted to be mad that he was so good with her son. Proclaim they could only ever be coworkers, then turn around and continue to be her son's favorite person. It wasn't fair. But she didn't want him to be mean to Kevin. So she smiled, fixing her shawl while Max told Kevin he would see him at quali tomorrow, wishing she could stay mad at him but that was impossible, especially when he lifted her son up and gave him a tight hug, telling him he'd enjoyed the movie.

"Can we watch another one day?" Kevin asked hopefully and y/n drew in a breath, prepared to say they couldn't ask Max that, he was too busy.

"Of course we can. You pick the movie and we'll watch it next week?"

He gave Kevin another hug then gently encouraged him to eat his dinner, smiling and saying goodnight to Ellie. Then he turned to her, and she felt an unexpected heat ripple through her as his eyes slowly looked her up and down.

"Thanks for coming," she murmured, walking him to the door.

"I enjoyed it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "For the most part."

"Kevin had a great time."

"Yes. And that's all that matters."

Ouch. "Goodnight, Max."

"Enjoy your dinner with Logan."

"I will."

He rocked back on his heels, exhaling harshly. "I'm…" He cleared his throat. "Goodnight, y/n."

She closed the door and bit back a whine. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

"Talk tonight when you get back?" Ellie asked gently, watching her while she fixed Kevin's plate.

"It's nothing," she insisted, double checking that she had everything in her handbag. Phone, ID and passport, room key, lipstick, mirror. "Just being stupid."

"You're not stupid, mama," Kevin said anxiously.

"I know, thank you. Sorry. Just feeling stupid."

"But you look so pretty," he told her.

She smiled, sighing as she crossed the room to kiss his cheek. "You're the best son in the world, you know that?"

He giggled, rubbing the lipstick from his cheek. "And you're the best mama."

"Only because you're the best son," she insisted.

"Do you like Mister Logan?" he asked suddenly, scrunching his face when she fastened the bib around his neck.

"He's nice. But he's just a friend."

"But." Kevin's lips poked out in thought. "He's taking you on a date."

"Dinner. You know how you miss Cotton?" She took a napkin and cleaned the smudge of lipstick from his cheek when he nodded. "He misses America sometimes. It's kind of like when you pet the cats on your walks."

"Ohh…" Kevin nodded with all the understanding a three year old could muster. "So he's gonna pet you?"

She blinked, instinctively reaching to swat Ellie's arm when her friend choked back a giggle. "Not exactly," she groaned. "We're just gonna talk."

Ellie was still giggling ten minutes later when Logan knocked on the door. "Sorry, sorry," she gasped when y/n shot her a glare. "I'll behave."

"That'll be the day," y/n muttered under her breath as she went to open the door. "Hey," she greeted warmly, smiling up at him.

He was dressed in slacks, a button down, and a jacket. His smile faded a little as he stared at her, and she saw his throat move as he swallowed. "Whoa. You look great."

"Thanks. You do too."

She let him in so Kevin could say hi, ducking into the bathroom to fix her lipstick and remind herself that it was just dinner. Logan was just a friend, or at least would hopefully be a friend. Saying goodnight to her son, she felt her shawl slipping, ignoring Ellie's knowing look when Logan immediately reached to catch it, his hands gentle as he draped it over her shoulders. Just dinner. Just dinner with just a friend.

But when they walked down the street to the restaurant, which was just around the corner, and his hand brushed hers she told herself it was alright. And when he slipped his hand protectively over hers she didn't pull away. In the restaurant when Lando and a few others called out to him she hung back, blushing when Logan gently tugged her along to greet his friends.

"Didn't know you had a date tonight, mate," Oscar commented, nodding to her in greeting.

She could have corrected him. Could have announced to everyone that it wasn't a date. But Logan's bashful chuckle warmed her and she smiled. "We American's have to stick together," she said, enjoying Logan's laugh.

"You know, England is an ally," Lando said with a smirk.

"Still haven't forgiven you for taxation without representation," she sighed.

"That wasn't me," Lando defended while the others laughed.

"Your ancestors though," Oscar told him.

"They were doing what they thought was right? How am I at fault now?"

"You opened your mouth," Carlos said with a laugh.

"C'mon, babe, our table's ready," Logan murmured, hand slipping to the small of her back.

"Enjoy your date!" Oscar called after them.

"I hope you trip over your independence!" Lando yelped when Oscar elbowed him.

Laughing, y/n let Logan guide her to the other side of the dining room, where they were thankfully shielded from the table of drivers. He held the chair for her and she thanked him while the waiter handed them the menus.

"I'm sorry about that. Oscar and Lando… I should have told them it wasn't a date," Logan said once they were alone.

"It's fine," she assured him. "I mean, technically, it is a date."

"I guess so. I just don't want you thinking I'm making it out to more than it is."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Two friends, hopefully. Spending time together." He looked up from his menu. "Probably should have taken you somewhere more casual, huh? This place makes it look like I'm trying to impress you."

She hadn't thought of it like that. "…Are you trying to impress me?"

"Do you want me to?"

Their eyes met and she slowly inhaled, thinking over what the best answer would be.

So you'll kiss him because I won't kiss you?

Do you want to kiss him?

She exhaled, sending thoughts of Max as far away as possible. "I think I do."

He looked relieved and oh, so handsome in this light. "Then I might be trying to impress you a little."

"You're doing amazing so far."

taglist

@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora |

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

[totheblood]

can you do angsty ellie headcanons? maybe how she reacts in a fight/what makes her angry? or ellie being mean to reader and having to apologize??

a/n: of course!!! this is NOT proofread... and there is some ai audios at the bottom... enjoy!

angry gf ellie

ellie does her absolute best to not get upset with you

like she really does because her mouth is a bitch when she's mad

but sometimes you take things a little too far and ellie has to fight with herself to not lash out at you

"ellie, i wasn't actually flirting with her. i was just trying to tease you." you would say in a worried voice as you watched her pace the room and avoid eye contact with you

"in what fucking world would you think i would like that?" she would spit out, flinching at her own tone

"i jus-" you try and justify it but you know you have pushed her a little too far

she would probably cut you off with the sound of your name, her voice much gentler this time

"can you just go? i need to be alone right now."

ellie is also very good at the silent treatment which drives you crazy

she would avoid you for days after the incident, not wanting to get in a full-fledged fight with you

she keeps imagining you playfully laughing and touching someone else's forearm and it drives her crazy

she doesn't even know why you would do something like that, was she not giving you enough attention?

so she would end up at your door late at night with her foot in your mouth

upon seeing your tired face, probably from the stress she caused you, she would immediately fold (ellie is such a simp it's embarrassing)

she just forgets what she's mad about when looking into your sad eyes, your face already in the palm of her hand

"baby," she would coo

"'m sorry els, it was so stupid. i don't even know why i thought that was a good idea because if you did that to me i would probably lose my mind, so please don't break up with me. i promise it will never-" she would watch as you rambled on but get absolutely thrown by the 'don't break up with me' comment

"hey hey hey, who said anything about breaking up? i was just upset, is all. don't like seeing my girl touching anyone else, yeah? we're okay, i promise." she does her best to reassure you, but when the worried look on your face doesn't go away she decides to press a kiss on your forehead

"you promise?"

"i promise. -- now are you going to invite me in? it's fucking freezing out here!"

ellie only gets angry at the sight of two things: you with another person and you injured

it's why she tries her best to be the only one who goes on patrol with you, but since shifts rotate sometimes you have to go with someone else

and that someone was jesse, who you loved but who ellie hated for you to be on patrol with

she knows what you and jesse are like around eachother (distracted) and you always come back with a few extra scratches when you're out with him

this time you came back on the back of jesse's horse with blood dripping down your forehead

upon seeing you ellie is immediately fuming and running out from the shelter of the stable to help you off the horse

she tries to be gentle in helping you down but she's shaking and your blood has started to drip onto her hand

"what the fuck happened, jesse?" she says in a huff as the men in the stable rush over to help her get you down.

"raiders, they just came out of nowhere." he sighs, hand on his head because he knows he's about to get it from ellie

"they came out of nowhere? or were you just not paying any fucking attention?!" she glared at jesse as you toppled over into her

"c'mon baby, you're okay." she'd press a kiss to your forehead ignoring jesse as she got you to the infirmary

but once you were all stitched up and alert? she was on you in an instant

"you always do this and i tell you every time that one day it's going to cost you your fucking life! and that day was almost today! -- do you know how lucky you are?"

you were just blinking up at her with your eyes wide, it shocked you that when you finally came to you were recieving a lecture from your girlfriend

"ellie, i'm too tired for this."

"oh, you're too tired? imagine how tired i am! how tiring it must be to wait for days not knowing if your girlfriend is dead. but noooo, jesse is just that fucking interesting that you have to risk your life to laugh at his lame jokes."

"what do you want me to do?" at this point you're just trying to get the pounding in your head to stop

"i want you to focus when you are on patrol! act like your life means something!" she's practically begging at this point

"okay."

"okay?"

"anything to stop you yelling at me, i really don't feel good." you say, leaning over to throw up into the closest garbage can

and just like that ellie is your ellie again, she's rushing over to hold your hair and rub your back

when you finish she gets up to throw the trash outside so the room doesn't stink

she hates being mad at you, but she hates upsetting you

"look, about what i said earlier; i'm sorry. i don't know what would happen, what i would do, if i lost you. i didn't mean to take it out on you."

you grab her hand and squeeze it lightly, "i know and i love you."

"i love you more."

but then you're leaning in to give her a kiss and she remembers five minutes ago when you were throwing up everything inside you

"i'll give you a kiss later…after we get those teeth cleaned."

ai audios:

i had more... but there's an upload limit

[allur1ngs]

✮ enflame ✮

TW: bada being too fine for her own good, a little bit of possessive!bada, lots of protective!bada, cold!bada (to anyone who isn't you), super brief mentions of violence, bada having beef w your bodyguard, pushy men, btw the picture to the farthest right is purely for aesthetics and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!!

SUMMARY: you manage to tear bada away from her work for an evening of shopping, where the soft spot she has for you is unveiled.

part iii. bloody knuckles

WC: 2.9k

A/N: read this for more background on this au. this is not exactly a part two to the headcanons but i got this idea out of nowhere so yeahhh

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

From the moment Bada arose from her slumber, she sensed that her day would be draining. Usually, waking up before the sun had the chance to peak above the horizon wasn't difficult for her—so many years of doing so had made sleep fatigue all too familiar. However, last night, she stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning, something she typically tried to avoid.

So when her body starts to naturally wake up only a few hours later, she groans loudly into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and mentally cursing her past self for staying up so late.

Although all she wants is to stay in bed more than anything, she forces herself to rise from her plush king-sized bed and tosses the warm sheets aside.

Briefly, she turns around to gaze at the spot where she had just been lying when a thought strikes her. You must be asleep in your own bedroom. Curled up in a similar, large bed, a pocket of heat cradling your figure while your chest slowly rises and falls. Your eyes must be tightly shut, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to remain asleep despite the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to peek through your curtains. Your soft lips must be pursed together. Your lips...

Bada wishes you both shared the same bed. She wishes she hadn't been so courteous to buy you a new bed, comfortable sheets, and all the amenities you needed when you first arrived. She wishes instead that you were lying in her bed. She wishes she could wrap her arms around you, and pull you close whilst you slept. She wishes she could foster a beautiful heat between your two bodies. She wishes she could run her fingers across your skin--

Bada shakes her head, sighs loudly, and turns away sharply from her bed. She rubs her eyes as she makes her way over to her dresser, mumbling berating words under her breath for thinking of you in such a way. It's not appropriate and beyond that, those types of thoughts lead to feelings, which she does not--cannot have for you.

Bada's day seems to worsen after dressing herself in her usual attire, a freshly ironed black suit and slacks. The fabric touches her uncomfortably, and still feeling the edges of sleep mar her vision, everything is suddenly bothering her.

But the final nail in the coffin is when Lusher, one of Bebe's most trusted mafia members, walks into her office hours later, carrying a tray of breakfast.

Immediately looking up from the papers in front of her, Bada expects to see your lovely face greet her, but is met with Lusher's cheeky expression instead. She tries not to display her palpable disappointment, but concealing her feelings has never quite been her strong suit. Her mother had told her this many times when she was younger.

"Don't jump out of your seat in excitement, now." Lusher jokes, placing the breakfast tray on the desk.

Bada's lips tighten into a firm, thin line as she stares down at the food, feeling her hunger quickly escape her. "Thanks."

"I know I'm not who you wanted to see, but I can't lie, your disappointment hurts me." Lusher moves a hand to her chest, acting like she'd been wounded.

Bada sighs, shaking her head. "Why isn't she here this morning?"

"Still in bed, apparently." Lusher clasps her hands behind her back. "We found her asleep on the couches late last night. She must have been waiting for you to leave your office so she could wish you a good night, but ended up falling asleep out of exhaustion."

The butterflies that dance in Bada's stomach internally, are a stark contrast to the disapproving expression she wears externally. "I've told her many times not to wait up for me. It's not healthy to be staying up so late."

Lusher sighs dramatically. "You're telling me. How many times have I asked you to head to bed earlier?"

"That's different." Bada denies while picking up her golden ink pen and continuing to write. "I have work to do. Waiting so late into the morning just to wish me a good night is..."

"Sweet? Incredibly kind, and definitely a testament to how endearing your fiancée is?"

Bada clicks her tongue in annoyance. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have something better to do than bothering me?"

"You know there's nothing I like more than bothering you." Lusher shoots back with a sly smile.

Bada tried to continue working, she really did. She attempted to push through filling out papers, even though her wrist was screaming at her to take a break. However, come midday, she was already fed up.

Ruffling her hair and groaning loudly, Bada stands up from her table, the chair she'd been sitting out whining loudly against the floor. She wastes no time in shuffling to the door, grabbing the handle, and pulling it open.

Right when she does, she catches a flash of your figure walking down the hall toward her, your bodyguard only a few paces behind you. As her gaze connected with yours, she felt as if the world transformed, shifting from monochrome sketches to vibrant watercolor paintings

"Oh." You speak first, an easy smile finding your lips. "Good afternoon, Bada."

"Good afternoon." She greets back, trying her damnedest not to sound overjoyed at your presence. "Were you coming to see me?"

"I was." You nod. "I just wanted to let you know I'm planning on going to the mall."

"Are you now?" Bada says absentmindedly, her hand coming up to clutch at her tie and loosen it. The fabric suddenly feels much too tight around her neck.

"Yes..." You trail off, your eyes taking in how Bada's pale and lithe fingers grab at her tie and jostle it around, making it dangle a bit messily across her collarbones. Such a simple action should not be so attractive, no--it shouldn't. It's really ridiculous how easy it is for your fiancée to be so naturally alluring.

"That sounds nice." She hums. "Are you looking to buy something in particular?"

"No, not really." You shake your head. "I'm really just going to look around, and not stay at home all day."

Home. Bada's heart warms at you calling the mansion you both reside in your home. Although it technically is, it's different for you to perceive it as such. It means you feel comfortable here, with her--living with her--

"You should come with me." Your voice brings Bada out of her stupor, her eyes immediately finding yours.

Her mouth opens and closes dumbly, a clear look of shock painted across her face. She tries to quickly gather her bearings, half-heartedly muttering out, "I--I wish I could, but I have a lot of work to do--"

"Bada, all you do is work," you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. She has to force herself not to think about how cute you look doing so. "You deserve to have some downtime. Even if it is only for a few hours."

She stands there, still a bit shell-shocked, staring at you before her eyes shift to the figure behind you, finding your bodyguard, who is trying very hard to conceal her amused smile behind a shaky hand.

Bada's gaze turns icy as she eyes down your bodyguard, prompting the subordinate to immediately turn away and dispel her smile. "All right. I'll come with you."

"Wait, really?" You awe, your eyes going wide and your smile growing. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."

"Well, you're right. I do need a break. At the rate I'm working at now, I'll never do anything productive by the end of the day." Bada admits with a tired smile. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yes." You begin to nod, but your smile slowly turns into a frown. "But you should change into different clothing."

For the second time that day, Bada is left surprised by your boldness. "Change? Why?"

"Don't you want to wear something other than a suit for once?" You ask innocently. "It seems... stuffy to be in it all day."

"Stuffy." She laughs breathily. "I guess you're right." Bada looks between you and your bodyguard. "Will you be all right to wait for me?"

"Of course." You smile.

"Great." She smiles back.

When Bada comes back, she isn't wearing her usual black suit. And although you'd been the one to suggest it, you're not quite ready for how amazing she looks in casual clothing.

A black leather jacket is draped over her shoulders, with slick white lines running down the sleeves and across the chest. She has paired the jacket with matching black leather pants and a black shirt.

In that moment, you want to scream at whatever higher power exists for making your fiancée so unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to act normal around her when her mere presence makes you hot below the collar?

Well, despite your internal struggles you give her a compliment before you're off to the mall, hopping into a sleek black sports car and speed away.

Your first destination in the large mall is a relatively luxurious clothing store. You can't lie; you had wanted to go into the store since you passed it on one of your trips to the mall without Bada, but you were too intimidated to enter. However, now, with her by your side, you feel much more comfortable stepping into the expensive store.

Approaching the door, your bodyguard begins to step forward, about to open the door for you like she always does, but Bada is quicker. She grabs onto the handle and opens the door, stepping aside to make room for you to walk in.

You look at her and smile while mumbling a soft thank you, to which she gives you a small smile back and nods. Your bodyguard begins to walk in after you, but again Bada is faster and enters the store, letting the door swing closed behind her. It almost hits your bodyguard in the face, making her flinch back and sigh.

"Keep a look out from there," Bada tells her sternly through the glass doors.

"Yes, Boss," your bodyguard begrudgingly mumbles back, understanding that this is payback for teasing your fiancée earlier.

Bada turns back around, her eyes easily finding you in the small crowd of people. You're looking around the store with wide eyes, a smile gracing your lips as you observe the embellished clothing around you. She smiles fondly to herself, finding every expression of yours much too cute for your own good.

However, before she can make her way to you, the familiar sound of a voice greets her from behind. Turning around, she finds In-Su, one of her business partners and the owner of the clothing store. Greeting him back, an air of professionalism immediately envelops her as she begins to engage in conversation with him

Meanwhile, you're in your own personal heaven. The clothing you've been browsing is exactly your style, and despite the high prices, you know you can afford it all, thanks to the black credit card Bada had gifted you.

A few minutes later, your hands are already starting to get full as you reach to pull another article of clothing from the rack when you suddenly feel a firm force push into your side, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. making you lose your balance and almost fall to the floor. Thankfully, you manage to steady yourself before you do, huffing while turning to your right to see what--or more accurately who--had bumped into you.

"Excuse me." A well-dressed man stands a few feet away from you, his lips forming a snobbish frown.

Despite your irritation, you instinctively apologize. "Oh, sorry--"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, eyeing you up and down. "You should be careful where you stand."

Internally, you scoff at the man, but externally, you only mumble another half-hearted apology before turning away and walking down another aisle.

"Have I seen you before?" The man follows after you.

"I don't think so." You answer back flatly, trying to ignore him and busy yourself by flipping through pairs of jackets.

"I swear I've seen you before. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman."

This time, you're unable to control your expression and outwardly cringe. Is this random man who bumped into you flirting with you right now? After acting so rude?

You say nothing to him in response, choosing to completely ignore him instead.

"You know, when someone compliments you, it's common courtesy to say thank you."

Now you're starting to get increasingly anxious. You don't feel brave enough to confront the man, but he doesn't seem to understand that you're not interested and clearly uncomfortable with his advances.

Taking your silence in offense, the man scowls before grabbing your wrist rather roughly, making you drop all the clothing you'd been holding, and twists you around to face him.

You gasp at his painful hold, attempting to break away from him but unable to due to the sheer strength of his grip. "Let me--" you begin, but the words die in your mouth upon seeing someone standing behind him.

The man, who had been staring you down, notices the shift in your expression and suddenly becomes aware of a very strong presence behind him. He turns around, still gripping your wrist, and comes face to face with a scarily calm Bada Lee.

"Do you need something?" He snaps at her dumbly.

Bada stares down at him with steely eyes, her expression so devoid of emotion you're almost terrified for him. "I believe I should be asking you that question. Is there a reason why you're touching my fiancée?"

The man looks between you and Bada, scoffing disapprovingly. "Tch, she didn't tell me she was engaged."

"Even if she wasn't, in what world would it be appropriate to touch a woman who clearly isn't interested in your pathetic advances like that?" She asks rhetorically, her voice rising with every syllable. Clearly, her anger was getting to her.

The man grits his teeth, feeling his ego bruise because not only is Bada embarrassing him, but she's also easily intimidating him with her presence. "Hey, just who do you think you are?" He raises his voice to match hers.

"I think the real question is," Bada takes a step closer, leaving hardly any space between her and him, "who the fuck do you think you are?"

In that moment, the man's entire demeanor shifts. He turns to look around the store, finding every shopper, worker, and even the store owner staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes set into firm glares. Some of them have their hands in their pockets or are grabbing something hidden next to them. His face pales, and looking back at Bada, her face starts to become familiar. He hadn't recognized her out of her normal formal attire, but now--

He gulps, quickly letting go of your wrist like your skin burned him and steps away from you both, his posture shrinking. He starts to make his way toward the exit, attempting to ignore the stares of everyone in the store but is stopped before he can make it out.

"And where do you think you're going?" Bada's hardened voice echoes through the store, making the man freeze in his spot, his entire body going rigid.

Bada's footsteps slowly approach him from behind again and stop just shy of him.

"You made her drop her clothing."

The man turns around, avoiding eye contact with Bada and finding your eyes instead. He's about to mumble an apology when she speaks up again.

"Pick it up." She demands flatly.

The man stays still in his spot, shocked and embarrassed. But clearly, he didn't move fast enough for Bada's liking, because he feels himself get shoved in your direction, almost falling onto his face.

"Do it. Now." She says, her voice bordering on yelling.

Immediately, the man throws himself onto the floor, scrambling to pick up every article of clothing he made you drop. He does so as quickly as possible, then stands up, about to pass you the clothing, when he feels Bada's unwavering gaze bore into him and decides it's in his best interest not to touch you anymore, so he carefully drapes the clothes across your arms.

He turns back to face Bada, approaching her with a cold sweat.

"Hold on." She stops him yet again. "You bumped into her, didn't you?"

"I--" He tries to explain himself but is cut off.

"Apologize."

This time, the man wastes no time in fulfilling her demands. He turns to you, apologizing profusely while shaking like a leaf. You're unable to even think about accepting his apologies before he practically runs to the store doors, throws them open, trying to leave the mall. But as always, Bada is ten steps ahead.

She nods at your bodyguard, who grabs onto the man's suit with little effort, turns him around, and punches him straight in the gut.

Bada then steps in front of you, blocking you from seeing what your bodyguard is doing to the man. Her hands grab the clothing from your arms, relieving you of their weight before slinging them across her right shoulder. She then gently holds your wrist up to her eyes, the ice behind them shifting to a warm and caring glow.

"Does it hurt?" She asks softly.

You feel your body turn to mush at the attention she gives you. "A little."

Bada sighs, leans in, and places her soft lips against your wrist, kissing it with a reverence and sweetness everyone besides you is surprised to see.

It's clear to everyone that the ice around Bada's heart melts only for you.

enflame: to excite to excessive or uncontrollable action or feeling

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*