#sorry i’m so late with replying to this

[simpurnatural]

"Flustered" || Short-Fic

XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader

Note from Nat: "Back to back Min Ho fics??? Didn't expect to get so much positive feedback. Thanks for going easy on ya girl, I'm still a bit rusty! Enjoy and make sure to wipe that drool off your face babe!"

Warning(s): Spoilers for "XO, Kitty" seasons 1 & 2, A little bit of Smut, Language, Sorta Proofread

As the fall semester came to an end, with everyone not wanting to part ways even for a just a month, Min Ho decides to invite the entire friend group for a winter getaway.

“Where’s Y/n?” Asked Dae which made everyone’s heads turn before the sound of snow crunching was heard.

You approached the group that was currently enjoying the hot tub, arms crossed to keep your robe shut. Min Ho suggested that the hot tub would be best way to relax after a day of travelling

“Hi! Sorry I’m late to the party,” you smiled whilst kicking off your slippers, then sliding your robe off your shoulders.

“Hot damn girl,” Q said, overcame with astonishment. "Drop the workout routine asap please," he joked as everyone's eyes lingered on your figure.

“Oh stop it,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “This old thing isn’t worth the hype,” you insisted, but everyone would’ve begged to differ.

The navy blue two piece you were sporting hugged all the right places. Your ass and tits looked like they needed saving. The sight was definitely giving body tea.

Everyone watched as you made your descent into the tub and sat in between Kitty and Min Ho. Kitty had given you a small wave whereas Min Ho could barely make eye contact. Various conversations continued but Min Ho remained in an unlike-him-silence.

He wondered how he had not noticed how hot you looked until now. Not saying that looks are everything, but Min Ho felt stuck on how he never gave you a second glance.

"-Right Min Ho?" Dae asks, turning to his best friend who was clearly zoning out.

"Sorry what?" Min Ho replied, snapping out of his trance.

"We're gonna be able to go skiing first thing tomorrow, right?" Dae reiterated, a slight tiredness in his voice due to Min Ho's lack of contribution to the conversation.

"Of course," Min Ho nodded before his gaze back on you, who was too busy chatting with Yuri and Kitty to realizing anything else.

"Woah okay, this is new," Q teased, as his eyes followed Min Ho's. "The bikini has got your eyes lurkin'" he says, making Jin snicker at the observation.

"What are you guys talking about?" you ask with an unaware smile on your lips, Min Ho's eyes instantly looking down.

"Min Ho here seems to have-" Q began.

"Shut it," Min Ho tsked before moving to leave the hot tub.

"Hey, we were just joking," Jin called out as Min Ho shuffled back into the house.

"What was that about?" Yuri questioned, all conversations now put on pause.

"Is Min Ho okay?" Kitty asked, looking to the other boys occupying the hot tub.

"He's just a little flustered," Dae replied, the feeling of worry instantly overcame you.

"Did I do something?" you say wide-eyed but to no response. "I'll go check on him," you say before making your way out of the tub and walking towards the house. "Min Ho?" your voice echoed throughout the home.

You noticed a light coming from inside the kitchen and chose to investigate. There stood Min Ho, chugging a bottle of water with his slim yet toned physique being illuminated by the refrigerator light. He began to cough up said water after realizing your presence.

"Bloody hell, you scared me," he coughed, covering his face with the inside of his elbow. "What is it Y/n?" he asks while shutting the fridge door.

"What's with you?" you quizzed, "Ever since I joined you guys outside, you've been quiet and when I tried to converse with you-you run back inside!" you add with a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's not my fault-"

"-So it's mine? What did I do wrong?" you cut off, urgently wanting an answer as to why your friend was avoiding you.

"Y/n, it's because y-you literally look like t-that!" Min Ho exclaimed as if it were common knowledge. "How else is a guy supposed to act when you decide walk around wearing something like that?" he questioned.

"Is what I have on not okay? Was there something in my hair?" you blabbered in response, instantly being overcame with the self-conscious feeling.

"It's fact that when I saw you earlier, I wish you didn't have anything on" Min Ho muttered in an almost whisper like volume.

The realization finally hit you, Min Ho had been eyeing you since you stepped into the hot tub. You face flushed a bright red, clearly flattered by the words that just came out of his mouth.

"So what you're saying is-"

"What I'm saying is that you look almost too good," Min Ho said, his voice deep and eyes darkened like a lion about to pounce on his next prey.

The small distance between the two of you shut in almost an instant, his hand cupped the side of your face gently. You could've sworn that the beat of your heart could be heard from miles away.

Your lack of response gave Min Ho time to lift you up and place you on the kitchen counter. Accidentally, you let out a small whimper at the feeling of the cold tile touching your skin. Min Ho felt as if he could've finished off that noise alone.

Standing between your legs, Min Ho's hands traveled all the way back down to your ass. You watched his eyes really take in your body, as if he could drink you up like a glass of water.

"Tell me to stop, and I will" Min Ho whispered as he gave your plump skin a squeeze.

Leaning in with your lips close to his ear, finally you replied, "I don't think I want you to stop".

Min Ho took this as his green light and you felt as his hands unclasped your bikini top. Grabbing the piece of clothing, he tossed away fand his eyes settled on your breast.

Biting his lip, Min Ho took one of each into his hands. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful Y/n," he said with is his accent thick, almost like he was about to melt at the sight of you.

You gasped at the feeling of his breath on your tits, causing a domino effect of butterflies and goosebumps to cover you. Min Ho chuckled at this, rubbing your nipples with his thumb in a circular motion.

Eyes closed; you threw your head back at the sensation before feeling something foreign come in contact with your breast. Min Ho's tongue began exploring your chest. It was as if he was trying to paint a picture.

His grasp on your tits became slightly more secure as he was egged on by your moans. He was marking his territory all over you with bright red hickeys.

Your half assed attempt to stifle your moans was with the palm of your hand. Min Ho however loved how loud you were getting for him and yanked your hand away from your face.

"I want to hear you," he insisted, pulling his lips away from your chest for a mere moment. "I want to hear you all night," he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

"Uh guys?" a voiced that belonged to Yuri called out. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice trailing off into the hallway probably in search of you both.

Min Ho looked down with a smile on his face before getting your swim top from the ground. You quickly put it back on then pulled your hair to the front to cover the marks Min Ho left behind.

"W-we're here Yuri!" you replied hopping off the counter and walking out of the kitchen with Min Ho right behind you.

As Yuri came walking back towards you guys, her head tilted to the side in confusion, "What were you guys doing over there in the dark?"

"Just got some water," Min Ho replied, which seemingly convinced Yuri enough for her to walk back outside. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered in your ear, giving your ass a slap.

JAN 2025

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[amb3r-saurus]

hii,Can you make a one shot of bf!rafe x reader where she is very good friends with sarah and tells her that she is her favorite Cameron and rafe gets jealousplease,and thank you! ୨♡୧

FAVORITE CAMERON

pairing; rafe x gf!reader, sarah x bsf!reader

warnings: none

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 : I’m so sorry for the late upload 😭. Currently going through hell week at school and I’m on the brink of death. Anw I hope you enjoy this!!!

You were sitting on the deck at Tannyhill, the golden glow of the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the well-kept garden. Sarah had convinced you to come over for an impromptu catch-up, and the two of you were sipping iced tea while chatting about everything and nothing at once.

“Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know how you put up with Rafe sometimes,” Sarah said, playfully rolling her eyes. You laughed, swishing your straw around your glass. “He has his moments,” you teased, the corner of your lips curling.

The backdoor swung open with a creak, and speak of the devil: Rafe Cameron strolled out, hands in the pockets of his shorts, clearly fresh from whatever he’d been doing. His sharp blue eyes landed on you instantly, a small grin appearing at the sight.

“There you are,” he said, voice dripping with lazy amusement. “I wondered why it was so quiet inside.” Sarah groaned. “We were having a girls’ moment, Rafe. Take a hint!”

Ignoring her, Rafe crossed over to where you were sitting. He placed both hands on the back of your chair, leaning in closer than he needed to. His cologne mixed with the salty sea breeze made your head spin.

“What are you two talking about?” Rafe asked, his lips grazing your ear just enough to send goosebumps down your arms. “Nothing involving you, Cameron,” Sarah quipped, flicking her brother a disapproving look.

“Relax,” you joked, glancing at Sarah before looking back at Rafe. “She’s still my favorite Cameron.”

Your words hung in the air for a split second before Sarah laughed, making a dramatic fist pump. “Finally, some recognition!”

But Rafe? His reaction was priceless. His jaw visibly tensed, his brows furrowing slightly as he stepped around the chair to plop down beside you. “Excuse me?” he demanded, though there was a playful edge to his tone.

“Oh, don’t be so offended,” you teased, taking a sip from your drink, deliberately keeping your eyes forward. “Sarah is amazing.”

“And I’m not?” Rafe leaned closer, his nose nearly brushing yours. “You have your moments,” you admitted with a sly grin.

“Moments?” His voice was low and faux-wounded, though his smirk was starting to break through. “Okay, fine,” you relented, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re… second best.”

“Second best,” he repeated flatly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, feigning deep betrayal. “Aw, poor baby,” you cooed, reaching over to lightly pinch his cheek. “You’ll live.”

Sarah cackled, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to see her brother knocked down a peg. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, Rafe. Just admit it.” Rafe shot his sister a glare but quickly turned his attention back to you. He leaned in, his hand resting lightly on your thigh, and whispered just loud enough for you to hear:

“You know I’m your favorite,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence that had your heart skipping.

Your cheeks warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of an immediate answer. “We’ll see,” you replied airily, taking another sip of your drink while trying to hide your flustered expression. But judging by Rafe’s satisfied grin, he already knew the truth.

[lanf1an]

SEASONS lando norris x fewtrell sister - pt.9

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8

wordcount: 2926

The sunlight streaming through the blinds was sharp and unforgiving, waking you far earlier than you wanted. You shifted under the covers, the events of the night before flashing through your mind. Your stomach churned—not from the alcohol, but from the weight of what had happened.

You glanced over at Lando, still asleep beside you, his chest rising and falling steadily. He looked peaceful, his hair a mess against the pillow, and for a brief moment, you let yourself feel the warmth of it. But then guilt crept in, tightening around your chest. What the hell had you done? 

Slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, you grabbed some clothes and padded out into the kitchen. Coffee first, then… you’d figure out how to handle this.

“Morning,” Lando’s voice startled you, and you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, hair tousled, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. He looked way too good to be feeling even half the hangover you were feeling. 

“Oh, hey,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I was just making coffee. Want some?”

“Sure,” he said, raising his eyebrows, his eyes lingering on you for a beat too long.

The silence stretched as you busied yourself with the coffee machine. He didn’t move closer, didn’t sit down. You knew he was waiting for you to say something.

“Last night…” you began.

“Yeah?” he prompted, quick to reply.

“It was…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Sorry?”

“It’s just…” You hesitated, the words tumbling out. “So much alcohol. And the break-up. I wasn’t—I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”

His expression flickered, something guarded settling in his eyes. “Right... Yeah, of course. I’m sorry too”

Before either of you could say more, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Thank God,” you muttered under your breath, heading to open it.

Max stood there, looking like death warmed over, his sunglasses pushed up into his messy hair, more like you were feeling.

“Kill me,” he groaned, brushing past you and collapsing onto the couch.

“Good morning to you too,” Lando said, handing him a bottle of water from the fridge.

“What did we do last night?” Max asked, his voice muffled by the pillow he’d shoved his face into.

Lando smirked. “You challenged a group of strangers to a dance-off. And lost.”

“Tragic,” Max mumbled. He lifted his head slightly, squinting at you both. “Anyway, what are we watching?”

Before you could protest, he was scrolling through the options on your streaming service, settling on an over-the-top action flick.

You exchanged a glance with Lando, who gave you a small, almost imperceptible shrug before sitting down on the couch.

Max patted the cushion beside him. “Come on, both of you. Misery loves company.”

As the movie played, with Max sitting between you and Lando, you occasionally glanced over to Lando, whose eyes were glued to the TV. Max made his usual sarcastic comments, keeping the atmosphere light. On the outside everything looked exactly the same, but even as you laughed along, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t quite the same.

- The following months were a strange blur—a whirlwind of processing the breakup, diving into work, and navigating race weekends. Of course, you still went to the races. Skipping them would have been unthinkable, far too weird. But it felt different. You had decided to keep some distance from Lando, convinced it was the right thing to do. Maybe for him, maybe for you. You didn’t expect him to do the same. It wasn’t overt enough for anyone else to notice. To the untrained eye, nothing had changed. You were still at every race, still part of the usual group settings. But the small moments—the ones that used to belong to just the two of you—those were gone.

No impromptu meet-ups in random cities. No late-night texts or phone calls that had nothing to do with racing. The unspoken routine you’d fallen into over the years had quietly unraveled, and no one else seemed to notice. Lando was having the season of his life, the world around him growing brighter and louder with every race. Media attention surged, fans swarmed, and with the success came a revolving door of new people. Girls. Even Magui made an appearance again.

It all looked perfectly normal from the outside—like you were just giving him space to focus, like his rising stardom left no room for anything else. But you knew better. You felt the distance that had never been there before, even if no one else could see it.

Max noticed, of course. He was the one person who would. “You and Lando good?” he had asked one evening, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

You’d brushed it off with a shrug. “Just don’t love this side of F1,” you’d said vaguely, which wasn’t entirely untrue. You didn’t press further, and to your relief, neither did he. He seemed satisfied enough, happy, in fact, to have more of your time to himself.

The awkward radio silence between Lando and you was interrupted by the buzz of your phone. His name flashed on the screen. Surprised you picked up the phone.

“Hey,” 

“Hey…” he replied, his voice a touch uncertain, like he wasn’t quite sure how to start.

There was a pause, and then he dove in. “Listen, I wanted to ask you something. I’m sorry to bother you with this—you can say no—but, um…” He hesitated, and you could almost hear him scratching the back of his neck through the phone.

“You know how I absolutely hated the FIA awards on my own last year?” he continued. “It was boring, long, and just... the worst. Thing is, you’re only allowed to bring a date, and I was wondering if you’d come with me. Reckoned you’d look better in photos than Max.”

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it. “So let me get this straight—this is an invite to a boring, long night that you hated? Wow, what a proposition.”

You heard his laugh on the other end of the line, warm and genuine. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds terrible. But yeah, basically.”

“You owe me for this.” you agreed.

“Big time,” he said, you could hear his grin through the phone.

— 16 december 2025

The invitation to the FIA awards came with more than just a request for your company. It came with a trip—this year, the gala was being held in Cape Town, South Africa. When Lando explained the logistics over the phone, you weren’t sure what surprised you more: that the event was happening on another continent or that McLaren had arranged for the team’s private jet to take you there.

When you arrived at the airstrip, the sight of the sleek McLaren jet against the orange and purple hues of the evening sky made your chest tighten with nerves.

“Finally,” Lando said, a playful grin spreading across his face as he spotted you. He was already dressed casually, a bag slung over one shoulder. “Thought you were going to ditch me.”

“I considered it,” you said with a smirk, adjusting the strap of your own bag.

Oscar appeared next, giving you a quick nod and a grin. “Looking forward to this?”

“Not particularly,” you admitted.

“Good. Neither am I.”

When you were all settled in the jet, it felt familiar. Traveling together like always, the years of friendship taking over, diminishing the awkward last few months.

“Let’s play?” Oscar asked, shuffling a deck of cards. “Lando taught me that complicated game you guys always play.”

Your eyes lit up at the mention. “Oh, really? That’s nice—let’s do it.”

Oscar grinned. “I like it, but I always lose when I play with Lando.”

“Of course you do,” you said with a laugh. “He probably cheats. He always does.”

“I don’t” Lando protested, though the smirk on his face wasn’t exactly convincing.

Oscar narrowed his eyes, glancing at the cards, coming to the realization. “Yeah, sure. That’s what someone who cheats would say.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Trust me, we don’t even count his wins anymore. It’s just embarrassing at this point.”

“Unbelievable,” Lando muttered, feigning outrage as he dealt the cards.

-

Arriving at the hotel, it was as luxurious as you’d expected, with marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city. Your rooms were adjacent, even though McLaren probably did the booking, it was a detail that shouldn’t have meant anything but somehow felt significant, having always shared rooms.

“You’ve got to see the view from my room,” Lando said, leaning against your doorframe with a grin.

“Maybe later, I’m sure it’s exactly the same, we gotta get ready” you replied, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered on you. 

-

The sound of a knock on your hotel room door pulled you from the mirror where you were applying the finishing touches to your makeup.

“Coming!” you called, carefully stepping into your heels before opening the door. Lando stood on the other side, already in his tuxedo, the bow tie slightly askew in a way that was annoyingly charming.

He opened his mouth to greet you, but the words caught in his throat as his eyes swept over your dress—a sleek black dress with a low back.

“You look… wow,” he finally managed, his voice lower than usual.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. “Thanks. You look great too” He looked every bit the world champion he’d just become—poised, confident, yet still undeniably him.

“Yeah, but no one’s going to be looking at me tonight,” he said, his lips quirking into that familiar teasing smile. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the warmth. “Let’s go before you make us late.”

-

The ballroom was breathtaking. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting golden light onto the polished marble floor. Tables were adorned with elaborate centerpieces, and waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne. It was a scene straight out of a fairytale, and for a moment, you felt like you didn’t belong.

Lando leaned closer as you both descended the grand staircase. “Forgot how glamorous this all is, didn’t you?”

“A little,” you admitted. “It’s easy to forget this is also your life.”

He grinned. “I’d trade this for a karting track any day.”

You both mingled, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces. Zak Brown greeted you with a wide smile.

“Wow, look at you two,” Zak said, his tone teasing. “A proper power couple. Took you becoming world champion to finally get her as your date, huh?”

Lando’s cheeks turned pink, but he rolled with it. “Guess I had to up my game, huh?”

‘’Wow,” Max Verstappen said as he passed by, giving you an appraising look. “You look... different.”

“Thanks, Max,” you said dryly.

“No, I mean good,” he added quickly, looking mildly embarrassed. “Not like in the paddock, screaming your lungs out for McLaren.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lando shot back with a grin. “She’ll still be screaming for McLaren tonight.”

-

The formalities of the evening dragged on, speeches blending into one another as awards were handed out. You tried to keep up, but your attention waned as the night wore on.

Lando leaned closer during one particularly dry speech, whispering, “See how I was dying on my own last year?”

You stifled a laugh. “You poor thing.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan to make this bearable.”

It didn’t take long for you to discover his plan—a subtle drinking game he’d invented. Whenever the FIA would say how amazing the FIA is, you both took a sip of your drinks.

By the time the speeches ended, you were both giddy, the tension from the past few weeks melting into laughter.

-

As the night wore on, the drinking caught up with Lando. You were heading toward the restrooms when he groaned at the sight of the long men’s line, compared to an empty women’s, illustrative of the crowd at the event.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, glancing at the empty women’s restroom.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warned.

But before you could stop him, he ducked inside.

“So this is what the women’s bathroom is like,” he said, looking around with mock appreciation. “Fancy.”

“It’s not a sightseeing tour,” you said, exasperated. “Hurry up.” 

He darted into a stall, leaving you to shake your head in disbelief. When he emerged moments later, you were washing your hands at the sink.

Lando leaned against the counter, his playful grin softening as he caught your gaze in the mirror. “Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“What?” you asked, not entirely sure where this was going.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone sincere. “I mean, with... everything? Dylan. The break up. Us.”

You paused, drying your hands slowly. “Why do you always wait until we’re in a bathroom to have serious conversations?”

“Maybe I like the acoustics,” he said, his grin returning briefly before fading again. “Seriously, though. Are we okay?”

The question hung in the air, the tension between you almost tangible.

“I...” You hesitated, not entirely sure how to answer. “I think so. Are you?”

His gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you before he nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

It wasn’t a resolution, but it was enough for now.

-

As the night wore on, the drinks kept flowing. You and Lando drifted back toward the crowd, laughing and joking with Max, Oscar, and a few others.

At one point, Christian Horner walked by, offering a polite nod. As he passed, Lando’s hand casually patted your bum.

“Lando?!” you hissed in shock, your voice low but sharp.

“What?” he replied, feigning innocence.

“We’re in public!”

“So? Is that the only reason I’m not allowed to do that?” he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

You gave him a look, fighting the urge to smile.

-

The ride back to the hotel was a blur of laughter and lingering glances. The whole night together had forced some flashbacks from the previous night you spent together. Even though your mind had pushed it away, your body betrayed you, longing for the way it had felt—how good it had been.

You hesitated at your door, fumbling with the key card. Lando stood next to you, his hand resting lightly against the wall as he watched you.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of everything unsaid.

But instead of moving to his door, Lando took a step closer, his voice low. “You’re just going to leave me alone after a night like that?”

You turned to face him, the air between you charged with tension. “We’ve had a lot of champagne, Lando.”

His lips quirked into a small, playful smile. “Exactly. Perfect excuse for bad decisions.”

You tried to suppress a laugh, but his easy confidence had already disarmed you.

“Come on,” he added, his voice dipping lower. “We’re both thinking it.”

Your heart raced as you opened your door, stepping inside without a word. Lando followed, letting the door click shut behind him.

The room felt warmer, the air heavier with anticipation. You kicked off your heels, the plush carpet soft under your feet as you turned to face him.

“Lando...” you began, but your voice faltered as he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Tell me to go, and I will,” he murmured, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.

But you didn’t.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed like last time. It was slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every moment. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as he deepened the kiss. It was a contrast to the wildness of your last encounter—a quiet intensity that felt both overwhelming and grounding.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the heat of his body seeping into yours. When his lips left yours, trailing down your jaw to your collarbone, your breath hitched, your fingers threading through his hair.

WN: This was a fun chapter to write!! Long one!! needed after the previous short one. My original story line has 10 chapters :((( But i think im going to continue it a bit longer, I love this story much and dont want to start a new story yet because I like this one too much. Excited to see a new interview of Lando, so cute how excited he talks about Quadrant, but am I the only one who questions his fashion choices sometimes?? The blazer quarter zip combo, I’m not sure. I don’t know why I’m so critical i love him and its not bad but idk hahaha.

tl: @ash88-yep @lewishamiltonismybf @harrysdimple05@lex2205 @il0vereadingstuff @martygraciesversion381 @joannaln4 @obxstiles@chaoswithus@motorsportloverf1 @therovanperaastonmartini@acesofspadess @widow-cevans @irisesinthegarden@ncrsbrg @f1fantasys @norrisainz33 @mayax2o07 @ipushhimback @milkysoop @annimausi

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

double take

pairing: stranger!jisung (??) x fem!reader

summary: based off of double take by dhruv <3

tags/warnings: jisung is probably headover heels, kind of rushed, type of thing to make your heart race turning red as i write this, not that proofread (as always)

a/n: guys im actually obsessed with how this turned out omg....erm anyways.... love yall <3

alternate version....

masterlist....

"boy, you got me hooked onto something, who could say that they saw us coming? tell me, do you feel the love?...."

The first time Han Jisung saw you, the world tilted slightly. You were sitting on a park bench, headphones over your ears, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you scribbled something into a notebook. The golden rays of the setting sun painted you in hues of warmth, and Jisung’s breath hitched. He’d only meant to take a quick walk to clear his head after a long day at the studio, but now he was rooted to the spot.

He took a double take, blinking as if to confirm that you weren’t some mirage conjured by his overworked mind. You were real. And you were beautiful.

The second time he saw you, it was raining. Hard. Sheets of water pelted the streets, and Jisung cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella. As he hurried toward the nearest coffee shop, drenched and shivering, he nearly collided with you as you stepped out.

“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, your voice soft but clear even against the drumming rain. Your eyes met his, and something inside him shifted.

“It’s okay,” he stammered, suddenly feeling every drop of water clinging to his skin. You held out a spare umbrella without hesitation.

“Here. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

He wanted to protest, but the sincerity in your gaze stopped him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours as he took the umbrella.

Weeks passed, and Jisung found himself frequenting that same park and coffee shop, hoping for another chance encounter. It was unlike him to act this way—he wasn’t usually one for romantic daydreams. But there was something about you that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

When he finally saw you again, it was at the park. This time, you weren’t alone. A small dog trotted beside you, its leash wrapped loosely around your wrist. Jisung’s heart raced as he debated whether to approach you. Before he could decide, your dog yanked the leash from your grasp and sprinted straight toward him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you called, hurrying after the dog.

Jisung crouched down, catching the leash with ease. “Gotcha,” he said, chuckling as the dog licked his hand enthusiastically.

You stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath. “Thank you. She’s… a little too excited sometimes.”

“No problem. She’s cute,” he replied, glancing up at you. “Just like her owner.”

Your cheeks flushed, and Jisung’s own face burned as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean…”

You laughed, light and genuine. “Thank you. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Jisung,” he said, holding out a hand. When you took it, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t help but smile.

As days turned into weeks, you and Jisung grew closer. Coffee dates turned into late-night walks, shared laughter, and quiet moments of understanding. He learned about your love for music, how you’d spend hours lost in your own little world with a pair of headphones and a notebook. In turn, he shared his own dreams and insecurities, baring parts of himself he rarely showed anyone.

But there was always a part of him that hesitated, a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered if he was reading too much into your smiles and lingering touches. Were you just being kind? Or did you feel the same pull he did every time your eyes met?

One evening, as the two of you sat on that same park bench where he’d first seen you, Jisung worked up the courage to ask. The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the air filled with the soft hum of cicadas.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, your expression open and curious. “Of course.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you… ever think about us? About what we could be?”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, his heart plummeted. But then you smiled, reaching out to take his hand.

“All the time,” you admitted. “I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I saw you,” he confessed. “You… you make everything brighter.”

You squeezed his hand, your own smile mirroring his. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Jisung leaned in, his heart pounding. And when your lips met, it was as if the universe itself held its breath, the moment stretching into eternity.

In that kiss, every unspoken word, every lingering glance, and every hesitant hope found its answer. And for the first time in a long time, Jisung felt complete.

hope yall enjoyed <3

todays writing playlist....

peaches by justin beiber and double take by dhruv (on repeat lmao)

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[dilfismz]

gihun fluff and make out sessions please 🙏 i love him ugh

Stargazing

Pairing: Gi-hun x reader

Summary: Gi-hun takes you out on a surprise date, ready to reveal his feelings. Although you've only been together a few months he can't deny the strong feelings he has towards you.

A/N: No timeline is specified, it's ambiguous.

Life with Seong Gi-hun was like a series of unexpected detours—you never knew where he’d take you next, but it was always worth the ride.

You met him on a day when everything had fallen apart. Your job closed unexpectedly. You’d been sitting on a bench in the park, staring blankly at the papers that had to be signed, when a stranger sat beside you.

“Uh, do you want some hotteok?”

You’d blinked at him, startled.

He held up a bag of steaming pancakes, his awkward grin almost as warm as the food itself. “It’s, uh… really good. And you look like you could use something good right now.”

      *. ──── ❍  Δ □ ────*.

That day had changed everything. Seong Gi-hun wasn’t the kind of person you expected to fall for, but his honesty and endless optimism were magnetic. Over the months that followed, he’d become your rock, and somehow, you’d become his.

Tonight, he’d promised you something special. You didn’t know what, but you trusted him enough to go along for the ride.

“Okay, are you ready?” he asked as you walked out of your apartment building, his excitement palpable.

“That depends,” you teased. “What are you planning, exactly?”

He grinned, pulling you toward his car parked at the curb. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

You got in, watching as he fumbled with a map he’d printed out.

“Gi-hun,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere that’s not on GPS?”

“Exactly!” he said proudly. “It’s a secret spot. You’re going to love it.”

The drive was longer than you expected, the city lights giving way to quieter suburbs and eventually open countryside. Gi-hun filled the silence with stories about his childhood and terrible attempts at singing along to the radio.

“Okay, close your eyes,” he said as the car slowed to a stop.

“Close my eyes?” you asked skeptically.

“Trust me,” he said, laughing. “I promise it’s worth it.”

You complied, feeling the car come to a full stop before he helped you out. His hands were warm on yours as he guided you a few steps forward.

“Alright,” he said, his voice soft. “Open your eyes.”

When you did, your breath caught.

Before you was a wide, open field dotted with wildflowers, the sky above glittering with stars. In the middle of the field was a small picnic setup—blankets, pillows, and a basket lit by the soft glow of string lights wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Gi-hun,” you said, turning to him in awe. “This is beautiful.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking shy. “I wanted to do something special. I know things have been… tough lately, so I thought we could use a night like this.”

Your heart swelled as you took his hand. “This is perfect.”

The two of you settled on the blanket, the night air cool but not uncomfortable. Gi-hun opened the picnic basket to reveal an assortment of snacks, including the hotteok he always insisted on bringing.

“You know,” you said, laughing as you bit into one. “I think you’re singlehandedly keeping the hotteok business alive.”

“And I’m not even sorry,” he replied, grinning.

The night passed in a haze of laughter and easy conversation. You shared memories of your favorite childhood adventures, swapped embarrassing stories, and debated the best constellations in the sky.

At one point, Gi-hun lay back on the blanket, pulling you down beside him.

“See that one?” he asked, pointing to a cluster of stars. “That’s Cassiopeia. She’s the queen.”

“Didn’t she get punished for being too vain?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, queens make mistakes too,” he said with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I guess that makes you the court jester.”

“Wow,” he said, feigning offense. “And here I thought I was your king.”

“Not with those dad jokes,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He chuckled, his hand finding yours. The silence that followed was comfortable, the two of you simply soaking in the moment.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quieter. “I need to tell you something.”

You turned to him, your brow furrowing. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I know I joke around a lot, and maybe I don’t always say things the way I should, but… you’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really, really glad you’re here.”

Your chest tightened, his words hitting you harder than you expected.

“Gi-hun,” you said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He turned to you, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative but deeply heartfelt.

You responded without hesitation, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as the kiss deepened. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just a slow, deliberate exchange that left you both breathless.

You move to straddle him, knees on each of his sides. Gi-hun blushes in surprise and tangles his hands in your hair, earnestly pushing you back towards him, connecting your mouths. The fingers on your right hand pull on the bottom of his shirt, while your left shoots up to stroke his curly hair. 

He groans into the kiss, hands now moving to your sides, squeezing slightly. When you let out a small whine Gi-hun cracks a smile and you feel his lips contracting during the movement, causing you to smile as well. 

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured.

“So are you,” you replied, your fingers still curled in his shirt.

He kissed you again, this time shorter but no less meaningful, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you lay there beneath the stars, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

As the night wore on, you drifted into a peaceful silence, the occasional sound of crickets filling the air. You traced patterns on Gi-hun’s chest with your fingers, a contented smile on your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you said softly.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Thank you for everything.”

And as you lay there in the middle of the quiet field, you realized that with Seong Gi-hun, even the simplest moments could feel like magic.

[omiwrites01]

Impromptu Lunch

written before sugilite's release — do take it with a grain of salt

a/n: a small drabble i made to quench the sugilite drought heh — a lil bit spicy but nothing that needs a warning — !!!gn reader!!!

wc: 0.9k

“You’re late, again.” Sugilite purrs as he digs into his food. You can only watch as this infuriating man takes a bite of some obscene meal. The almost raw-looking texture of the meat makes a churn in your gut. “Got held up by some subordinates. Surely you can understand?” you can’t help but sigh. Why ever did you accept this invite? Sugilite merely hums, gesturing for one of his men to bring you food. “Oh, I’m sure. This whole company’s full of bumbling fools.” he chuckles but then his smile wavers. Setting down his cutlery, he looks directly into your eyes and you can’t help but feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’m not here for small talk.” he says. The white-haired man seems to be thinking about what he’s about to say. He opens his mouth only to close it, lips pursed in thought. You can’t help but want to punch this man. First, he ruins your schedule with this impromptu ‘lunch’ and now he can’t even find his own words?

So annoying. 

Finally, he speaks up. “That person. Who was it.” is all he asks with a cold look and you finally realize what he’s trying to do. Grinning, you lean across the expansive table and sip the wine poured for you. “Oh, so that’s what you got pissy, eh,” you can’t help but feel petty, “Just a dear friend of mine, you know? Actually, sorry. I doubt you know what a friend is.” You can only watch with amusement as Sugilite’s face gets even more annoyed. 

“I doubt a friend is someone who you…” he trails off and angrily stabs into his plate, the juices leaking out of the meat. You innocently flutter your eyelashes and try not to laugh. You know what he means. You had gotten a little bit friendly with people last night at an IPC gala. Perhaps a little too friendly if it got Sugilite hissing like a cat. 

You take another sip of your drink as Sugilite struggles to act cordially. He suddenly gets up and you pause. Eyeing him while he makes his way over to your side. Then he’s standing there, right behind your chair. You don’t dare look up but you can feel his glare digging into the back of your head. 

His hands dig into the back of the chair and his head leans down closely. “Be careful with your words,“ he murmurs, his stupidly long earrings grazing your skin, “No floundering around. Or else” You try to turn your head to look at him but his hands suddenly find themselves on your shoulders. “Now, tell me, who were they.” 

You tsk. How annoying could this man be? Deciding to bite back, you reply, “What’s it to you, hm? The people I give my time to have nothing to do with you.” Sugilite’s eyes narrow and one of his hands comes up to tilt your chin. You can see the look of pure annoyance on his face and you can’t help but sheepishly grin. “It, in fact, does matter.”, Sugilite scoffs, “How–or more importantly, who, you associate with reflects in all of us Stonhearts.” “That’s a lame excuse.” you snort, easily seeing through him. What a terrible liar. You get up from your seat, cup in hand, and move closer. “If you’re jealous, just say it, kitty.” you mock, forcing him up against the opaque wall. Sugilite’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth. “What are you do–”, Sugilite starts but he’s cut off when you quickly press the wine to his lips, forcing him to drink. “I like you better when you’re quiet.”, you smile, watching his eyebrows scrunch up in fury. Once he was done, you let the empty cup drop to the floor. The only sound in the room now was the cup shattering—spreading shards around your feet and Sugilite’s adorable pants. You had to admit, the man could be cute sometimes. Especially when he was this angry. Using your thumb, you wipe what’s left of the alcohol on his mouth, slightly digging into his lips. In response, Sugilite lets out a small whine and he grips your waist with an almost bruising force.

“You-”, he chokes with restrained anger but you instead trap his mouth with yours. Sugilite feels his throat dry as your tongue prods at the entrance of his mouth and slips past his lips. You try not to laugh at his face as your tongue explores his mouth, pulling him even closer. Aeons, he was so cute. Little moans escape the flustered man and you can’t help but feel your heart beat faster.

Faster…you want more…

Your hand palms at the front of his crotch and you feel his bulge start to harden. So eager, so cute. Slowly, you begin to unbutton his pants while your other hand tugs at his hair, pulling him closer even though you both are already as close as you can be, no space left. Eager, you’re so eager. So close. 

You slightly chew on his bottom lip as your hand slips into his pants—only to get suddenly pushed away. Your eyes slightly widen and before you can say anything, Sugilite pushes you down on the table, hand covering your mouth and eyes filled with frenzy.

He leans down, breath wetting your skin as he nuzzles into your neck. “Shall we take this,” he presses light kisses down to your chest, each one leaving you wanting more, “Somewhere else?” 

Ah, shit. 

[sariyastars]

༄ Silver Spoon

Pairing: Damian Wayne & Jonathan Kent (Non-Romantic) Synopsis: Damian wants to be loved, but thinks he'll ruin it. Song: Silver Spoon by Erin LeCount TW: Parent- Child Struggles, Loneliness, Silent Envy, & Mommy Issues Word Count: 1,458

The soft hum of crickets echoed through the farm's fields as the cold night air blew through Damian’s cape, with only the glow of the moon to light the path. He followed Jon closely, watching as he made his way towards the little farm house. 

“It is stupid that you have a curfew.”, Damian mutters bluntly, brushing off a stray cricket that had landed on his leg. 

“They have it to protect me! And we’re late, so let's get it moving!”, Jon encourages, trotting just a bit faster through the grass. 

I'll watch and learn from afar.

Damian rolls his eyes at this, picking up his feet just a bit more while maintaining his distance.

“Also, put the sword away. My mom doesn’t like sharp objects in the house.”, Jon turns to Damian. 

The night air whistles again, carrying Damian’s ‘Tsk’ with it. A long, tense pause laid between the two. There was a glint in Jon’s eye, the weight of unspoken words. With the quietness, Damian’s eyes soften- just momentarily. His typically sharp scowl easied into furrowed brows as the steel of his katana scraped against its sheath before clicking closed. 

A gesture of respect. 

I'll pull the weeds from my heart and put lipstick on for your family party.

With the farmhouse now in sight, Damian looks at the details of it more closely. It was nestled in the center of a large field. The weathered wood carried a rustic charm to it, old but sturdy- with the paint chipped in different areas. The porch, adorned with chimes and mismatched patio chairs, had a beautiful inconsistent wood grain to it. 

As they stepped in on the back porch, the wood creaked beneath their feet. The soft glow of an old fashioned lantern lit up the area, lighting up a worn out welcome mat that sat just in front of the back door at an angle. 

A warm and welcoming home. 

In the garden, I stare at the house you were brought up in.

The door was unlocked as Jon turned the knob of the backdoor. The door groaned as it was creaked open, echoing in the quiet night. Jon then pushed the door open, careful not to disturb the residents. Only the hallway light illuminated the otherwise dark house, casting a warm glow on the kitchen countertops as the light bled gently into the living room area. 

Multiple photographs lined the wall, each with a delicate wooden frame. Some frames were more worn than others, but each captured a moment as if frozen in that time. It was nothing like the portraits Damian had of himself with his mother at the League of Assassins- posed with straight faces. 

Damian reaches for a photo, gently picking it off the wall as if it were to fall apart in his hands if not handled delicately. His fingers graze over the glass, the dim light reflecting off of it. There in the photo, captured, was Jon and his mother. She held him so tightly in his arms, with a smile that could power a small city. Jon looked similar with his smile wide and his cheeks flushed with the joy of being adored. He was much younger in the photo than he was now.

He looked loved.

All the photographs and door frames are wooden.

The kitchen light flickered on, casting a bright light over the room. Within seconds, Damian quickly placed the photograph carefully on the dining table. 

“Jon?”,  a soft familiar voice asked from the doorway. 

There stood Lois, Jon’s mother, who was adjusting her robe in the doorway. Jon immediately took to her, running into her arms with a grin exactly like the one in the photograph Damian was just holding. His head nuzzled into her chest, listening to the comforting sound of her heart beat as she placed her cheek gently on his head. 

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”, she murmured into his hair, her laugh soft and warm. 

“Hey, mom. Sorry I’m late.”, Jon replies, almost guiltily.

Lois hums at this, chuckling softly. “I’m just glad you made it home safely.”. Her voice is steady and full of love.

Her hands cupped his face, her thumbs gently gliding over his cheeks as she looked at him with a softness that only a mother’s gaze could carry. After a long moment, she looked up, her eyes catching Damian’s where he stood near the table. 

“I see you've come in through the back gate… and brought a friend.”, Lois said, her voice laced with curiosity. 

When you were a kid, you'd come in through the back gate.

Jon gently pulled away from his mother, his hand delicately in hers. 

“Yeah, I brought Damian! I was just hoping he could hang out for a bit, since we always keep the light on.”

Your folks left a light on, in case you get home late.

Lois gently pulled away from Jon, her hands lingering over his shoulders, eyeing him once over as if triple checking for any injuries. Her eyes soften once she is sure and satisfied her son was safe.

“Of course Damian can stay.”, she looks over to him with a warm smile, her hands now readjusting her night robe once more. “You’re family too, after all.”

She heads over to the fridge, her slippers gliding across the kitchen tile.  “We also have plenty of leftovers. I am sure you boys are hungry.”, she says without waiting for an answer. Lois begins to pull out containers of leftovers.  

Jon smiles at this and immediately prepares the table, moving the mail off to the side and making space for the two to eat. He gestures to Damian to take a seat, a quiet invitation into his place of comfort. 

As Lois heated up the soup on the stove, the scent of vegetables and herbs filled the room. The smell was soothing, a reminder of the love that filled this home. 

And I bet you grew up eating at the table.

Once the soup had warmed to a perfect simmer, Lois poured generous servings into two bowls. She carried them over to the dining table, gracefully and swiftly, setting each bowl down in front of each boy. Jon whispered thank you to her, while Damian nodded. 

Lois stepped away to get them utensils, placing down a silver spoon each.

Fed love from silver spoons, reasons to be grateful.

Lois sat down at the table with them as they ate. The quiet clink of spoons against the glass bowls echoed throughout the room. She watched them for a moment, eyes full of adoration. 

“So”, she began, her voice gentle but inviting. “How was your day?”, she asks. 

Jon glanced up from his bowl to look at her, a soft smile gracing his lips. “It was good! Nothing really interesting happened though.”, he glanced over at Damian with a knowing look. 

Lois looked between them, obvious to what was being hinted but she did not push. She let the silence hang for a moment longer before looking back over to Damian. “What about you, Damian? How was your day?”, Lois asks kindly.

Talia had never asked about his day before.

I bet you grew up being asked how your day was.

“It was fine.”, Damian answers briefly.

Lois hummed softly at Damian’s reply, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. She knew Damian was not much of a talker like Jon was. She never pushed that. The slight ease of his shoulders dropping was enough for her. 

Her hand reached up, fingers threading through Jon’s hair, almost as if she was brushing it. The gesture was quiet, but full of love. Without even realizing it, Jon had leaned into her touch slightly. 

I bet you grew up grazing your knees.

Damian watches as Lois’ hands run through his hair, a touch so soft and quiet- yet so loud and tender. A gesture of motherly love that Damian had never experienced. A kind of love Damian never even knew existed. 

His chest tightened at this thought, his mind flashing to his own mother- Talia. Not once had she ever held him like that or looked at him with such adoring eyes. There had been no soft or loving gestures, no warm soup, or leaving the backlight on for him.

There was only expectation, discipline, and responsibility. Talia was never a mother in the way Lois was. She had always been cold and calculating. Expecting of him in every way. Love for Damian was conditional. Love was for exceptional individuals. 

He gripped the silver spoon tightly at this, staring deeply at his reflection. 

And he was never going to be anything less than exceptional.

But the fall wasn't fatal like it was for me.

A/N: this song has been stuck in my head for so long lol. i cant help but think of damian sometimes when i listen to it. i didnt use all of the lyrics, as i felt it would get repetitive or just wasnt pertantant to what i was trying to portray. i also kinda got lazy ngl,,, oops.

i feel like jon is such a good mirror to him in the difference of how they were raised. also, jon to kon. both hurt. i love angst.

[peakyswritings]

I’m so sorry I’m so late with my reply!

I’m so happy you pointed this out, cause the first thing I wanted to do with HBS was experiment with Tommy finding himself in a position where he can’t have the upper hand, and try to imagine how he would act!

Ah Agnese showed her teeth🥶 but it needed to happen, cause there’s too much buried stuff in her relationship with Nina, and it had to come out one way or another

She was so brave🥹 she wouldn’t just sit and wait without trying to fight! And Pietro might be angry, but he’s with her, for better and for worse.

Thank you so so much, Lee🥹🤍

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART XIII

Summary: Now that their secret’s out, Nina and Tommy have to face the consequences of their own actions. And the wrath of her family.

Warnings: time-typical misogyny, talks of arranged marriage, talks of forced marriage, mentions of killing, threats, violence, mention of beatings, angst, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s). This is set between season 1 and 2. English is not my first language.

A/N: after a major writer’s block, I finally managed to get this done. Sorry for the wait🤍 Last chapter before the epilogue of part 1.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credits

The ticking of the pendulum clock was the only sound of that could be heard in the dark office, the air becoming heavier with each second that passed. Tommy’s heart hammered in his chest, his fear taking the shape of violent shivers running down his spine. But he didn’t let any of it show. He separated himself from the primal instincts that urged him to fight, to find an escape, and forced himself to stand firm, unfaltering. He couldn’t let panic numb his mind.

It wasn’t his life he was scared for. Death was something Tommy had learned to accept - to welcome - a long time ago. For him, it was the merciful hand that would relieve him from weight of the world and give him peace, at last.

No, he wasn’t afraid of dying. What scared him was what would be of his family, in the events of his death. What would be of Nina. And for the first time in his life, he felt like he had no way out. Everything had happened too quickly. One moment he was in Nina’s arms, and the next he was standing in front of her father, with her brothers dying to put a bullet between his eyes.

Vincenzo Ferrante sat behind his desk with his hands folded in front of him, his expression unreadable as he took in the news. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, what he was planning to do. It would’ve been easier if he had screamed, or pointed a gun at him, or had some sort of reaction. That apparent calm was unnerving. But would be better to wait for the Italian to speak first. An attempt at justification would only enrage him more, and Tommy was pretty sure there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make it even worse for him. The best thing to do was stay silent and gauge Ferrante’s reaction. Then he’d figure out what to do next.

Interminably long minutes passed before Ferrante raised his piercing gaze on Tommy, nailing him with a cold stare. He nodded to himself, as if giving himself an answer to a question that had nagged at his brain the whole time.

“You disappoint me, Mr Shelby,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I accepted your terms for peace when I could’ve easily killed you and your whole family. I welcomed you into my house, let you eat at my table. And this,” he pointed at him. “This is how you repay me.”

The neutrality of his tone was unsettling. Tommy took in a sharp breath, his mind turning over to find something to say that would somehow fix it all. He could tell him what he had been planning to tell him had Nina said yes to him. That he wanted to marry his daughter, that he wasn’t playing with her, that the affection he felt for her left him no choice but to change his mind.

But Nina had never said yes to him. And he couldn’t make that choice for her.

“If I could talk to your daughter…”

Don Vincenzo slammed his hand on the desk, eyes glaring with a sudden rage as he leant forward. “You’re not going anywhere near my daughter ever again.”

A tense silence fell into the room. Pietro and Salvatore stayed close to Tommy, ready to intervene at their father’s command. All of Tommy’s senses were alert. He was aware that small outburst was nothing compared to what the head of the family was capable of behind his courtesy and good manners.

Taking a deep breath, Ferrante regained his composure. He straightened his back and when he spoke, his voice was calm.

“You will be…removed,” he stressed, “from our property until I speak to my brother, and we decide what it is that we must do with you.”

Fuck.

“Wait,” Tommy stretched his hand forward. “Just one word with Nina is all I ask.”

An indecipherable look crossed the Italian’s face. The corner of his mouth twitched. “So she’s Nina to you, mhm?” he scoffed, a bitter smile growing on his lips.

A feeling of helplessness took over Tommy as he realised he wouldn’t be able to get through to him. He had hit him where it hurt, he had touched the most precious thing he had. His daughter. There was no going back from that.

Ferrante sent a knowing look to his sons, jerking his head towards the door, and the two brothers grabbed him on both sides. There was no point in fighting, he was outnumbered and unarmed. And probably dead already.

He could only hope Nina would dig a way out for him.

Puttana.

The harshness of Agnese’s tone still pierced Nina’s ears, the word hanging between them like the smoke of a gun.

“How long has this been going on?”

Nina gulped, lowering her gaze to the grass under her feet. “I…”

Her mouth went dry. How could she even begin to explain what had happened over the last month? How could she look her in the eyes and tell her that she had been lying to her for weeks, pretending to be happy for her, hiding the true nature of her feelings?

Agnese shook her head, a cycle of emotions playing out in her eyes - confusion, hurt, betrayal. Disgust. That look was something Nina was sure she would never forget. “I can’t believe it.”

Nina exhaled a shaky breath, fidgeting with her own fingers. It wasn’t supposed to happen, not like that. She needed more time, just a bit more time to find a way to fix that mess. But maybe she didn’t deserve more time. She’d already had a hundred chances to put an end to what was going on between her and Tommy, and she had failed miserably every time she had tried.

“Please let me explain,” she attempted, but the humourless chuckle escaping her cousin’s lips cut her short.

“I’m so stupid,” Agnese murmured. “So blind. I’ve always been blind.” She crossed her arms over her chest, sneering. “They’re all right about you. You’re a disgrace for all of us. And you’re bad.”

Those words felt like an arrow to Nina’s chest. She nibbled on her bottom lip, feeling the sting of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“You ruined my chance at getting married,” Agnese pointed a finger at her, raising her voice. “You brought shame on the whole family. You’re ruining all of us. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

A lump grew in Nina’s throat. “Agnese, please,” she kept her voice low, trying to get her cousin to calm down.

But it was useless. Agnese didn’t even seem to hear her, too wrapped up in the vortex of her feelings. She took a few steps in Nina’s direction, squinting her eyes. “Nobody in this family likes you, not even your mother,” she spat out. “I’m the only one who treated you with some decency, who listened when you went on with your nonsense. And what do you do for me in return?”

As though a switch had been hit, a hot flash of anger seared through Nina, relentless, overwhelming. The kind of rage she had never been able to contain.

Too much. That was too much.

“Fuck you,” she gritted her teeth.

Agnese blinked, her mouth falling open. “What?”

“I said fuck you.”

This time it was Nina who took a step closer. “You like it, don’t you? Being the good one, the perfect one. The damned paragon of virtue,” she said, unable to help the sarcasm in her tone. “Treat me with some decency, you say? Odds are you didn’t do it for me. You only liked the way it made you feel about yourself.”

For a few moments neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other, the weight of all the things that had been said hanging heavily upon them. Too much had been left unsaid for too long, too many hidden feelings had been standing between them like an invisible wall. They both knew it was just a matter of time before they crawled out of the grave they had been buried in.

Agnese pursed her lips. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, and with one last disappointed look, she stormed away.

Nina took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rub her face. Guilt was already making its sneaky way inside of her. She had no right to snap. She deserved all the words that had left her cousin’s mouth. She had jeopardised Agnese’s future, along with her own. She wasn’t just ruining herself, she was ruining her whole family in more ways than one. She had put Tommy’s life at risk.

The mess that would come was all her fault. Maybe her family had always been right, maybe they had seen in advance all the damage that she was capable of causing, and treated her accordingly. Maybe she was bad, after all.

“Dad wants to see you.” Pietro’s voice came to her ears, pulling her away from her thoughts.

“Where’s Tommy?”

Her question was left unanswered. Without saying another word, Pietro turned to leave. Feeling her agitation rise again, Nina approached him with quick steps. She grabbed his arm, only for him to snatch it away with a sharp movement. He shot her a warning look, then he left.

It took all of Nina’s strength to find the courage to walk into her father’s office. He was standing near the window at the side of his desk, looking somewhere into the distance. He didn’t talk. He didn’t even look at her. He left her there, waiting. So much time seemed to pass that Nina couldn’t tell which of them was waiting for what, at that point. That silence weighed like a boulder. She could feel it on her shoulders, pressing her down, forcing her to cave.

Eventually, he took his time to walk around the desk, heavy step after heavy step, his hands behind his back, his gaze low, until he stopped in front of her.

She felt the sting before she could see him move. He delivered a harsh slap across her face, the impact sending her ear ringing. Her eyes squeezed shut, both in pain and in shock, and it took her a moment to register what had actually happened. Never had her father ever laid a hand on her before. She bit her tongue, slowly raising her eyes on him. There was no hint of regret in his eyes. Only a deep, painful scorn.

“I gave you too much freedom,” he murmured, shaking his head.

Nina raised a hand to her burning cheek, thousands of words coiling and knotting together inside her mind. But no sentence came out of that tangle. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she felt in that moment. Anger? Sadness? Shame? All of that, perhaps. And more.

“I thought I was raising you the right way. But I’ve been too soft. Too patient. And this is the result.” An expression of intense suffering flashed across his face. “Do you realise what you’ve done?”

She gulped hard, letting her gaze fall on the carpet under her feet. She couldn’t even bring herself to hold his gaze. “Papà, I…”

“You have pained me, Nina. You have pained me deeply. Letting that rugnusu, figghiu ri buttana use you like a-” he cut himself short, grimacing.

Nina backed away, feeling her eyes welling up again with angry tears. God, she hated herself. She wanted to keep a tough façade, to hide how much the words she had been receiving over the last hour hurt her, but it was getting harder and harder. She knew she had screwed up, she knew she deserved all that anger, but it was just so much to handle. And that was only the start.

“You’re wrong,” she sniffled.

“Am I?”

She glanced up at him through her lashes. “He cares about me.”

For a split second, a glimpse of bitter irony flashed across her father’s features. He nodded, taking a step back. “And yet,” he tilted his head, “he would’ve married your cousin.”

Nina crossed her arms over her chest, averting her gaze again. “It’s more complicated than that,” she muttered defensively. Although she had taken the hit, she refused to even consider the possibility that those implications might have any truth to them. She couldn’t believe Tommy would ever do something like that to her. Not him.

“It’s not,” he shook his head, taking on a condescending tone. “It’s simple. He played you, and you fell for it.”

“You don’t understand, he cares,” she insisted, hot tears finally spilling onto her cheeks. “He cares, he told me.”

Her shoulders shook as she stifled a sob, covering her mouth with her hand. Not him. Not Tommy. Not after the way she had let him in. Not after the trust she had given him. He would never.

Would he?

Her father cursed under his breath, reaching out to her, and she almost flinched when he raised his hands. But this time, he gently cradled her face, wiping her tears away with his rough thumbs. “You don’t know men, Nina. Sunnu minzugnari. They lie.”

“He’s not like that.”

He clicked his tongue, letting his hand fall as a disappointed smile twisted his features. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

He turned his back to her to approach his desk, his head hanging low. “But it’s not all your fault, is it?” he sighed, grabbing the cigar resting in the ashtray. “Tu si picciridda, teni u cori tènniru. Ti facisti ‘mbrugghiari.” (You’re young, you have a tender heart. You let yourself be fooled.)

He smoked for a while, seemingly calm, but his mind was lost in thought, as if he was fighting a battle inside his own head. He tapped his fingers on the wooden surface, and from the way he was standing, Nina couldn’t see his face. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, nervously waiting for him to speak. But there was still that question nagging at the back of her mind. She wasn’t afraid to ask it. It was the answer she was scared of.

She pulled herself together, gathering her courage. “Where… where is he?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s no concern of yours,” he said sternly.

“It is my concern.”

Her father exhaled a cloud of smoke, pondering his words. “He will be kept under custody until I’ve consulted your uncle.”

Nina gulped, fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt. A part of her, a stupid, foolish part of her had hoped what happened would stay a secret. But of course it wouldn’t. Agnese would talk. Maybe she had talked already.

“You’re marrying Stefano Spinietta.”

A chill descended into the room at that sudden statement. Nina’s head shot up, and she tried to get a glimpse of her father’s face, praying it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But he wasn’t looking at her. “What?”

“I’ll talk to his father tomorrow.”

She widened her eyes as the realisation crushed down on her.

No, that couldn’t be. She could not allow it. She would not allow it.

Blood rushed to her ears, its thumping sound covering her own voice when she spoke. “No.”

“No?” he turned around, raising his eyebrows. “You’re in no position to protest.”

A violent wave of anger ran through her, wiping away any residue of sadness, or guilt, or whatever it was that she had been feeling up until that moment. “I’m not marrying him, you can’t force me,” she raised her voice, walking over to where her father was standing.

A thick vein throbbed on the side of his neck, his face reddening as the fury he had been holding back finally got the best of him. “I will not allow you to be ruined,” he shouted, slamming his hand on the desk.

“Better ruined than that bastard’s wife.”

A tense silence fell between them. Nina didn’t allow herself to falter, she held her father’s gaze with the same defiance and determination she armed herself with every time the bite of invisible chains dug into her skin.

In a visible effort to regain his composure, her father inhaled deeply, straightening his back. “It’s decided,” he declared with a tone that brooked no argument.

“It’s not.”

“You already ruined our peace with the Shelbys, along with the possibility of having them as allies against Sabini. You won’t ruin our family’s honour as well. The Ferrante name will not be tarnished.”

She inhaled a sharp breath, her mind going back to what Tommy had said to her before all hell broke loose. I’d start a thousand wars if it meant that I got to keep you by my side.

He wanted her, and he was ready to risk it all. It was time to push past her fears, to stop letting herself being held back by the poisonous thoughts that told her no one would ever feel that way about her. To fight for him the way he would fight for her.

“What if I marry Mr Shelby?”

She couldn’t believe her own words as she pronounced them. They felt foreign, distant. Then fearfully real all at once. There was no going back from something like that. She couldn’t unsay what she had just said. What up until then had been nothing but a faint thought was now something visible, tangible.

She watched as her father’s face went pale, and for once, he seemed to be the one at a loss for words. His eyes searched her face, trying to measure the seriousness of her proposal. The stubbornness in her gaze must’ve told him everything he needed to know, cause his shoulders slumped as if under the weight of an unbearable realisation.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not an option,” he said, shaking his head. “If your uncle decides to forgive him, Mr Shelby’s marriage with Agnese will stand. But if he doesn’t forgive him there’s no way he will accept him into the family, under any circumstance. And I won’t go against him.”

Nina felt her heart sink. When she spoke, she couldn’t help the crack in her voice. “But you would go against me.”

“He’s my brother.”

“I’m your daughter.”

Her father’s eyebrows twitched, but that slight show of emotion was quick to fade into a hardened expression. “These are the consequences of your own actions, Nina,” he said coldly. “Now leave. Nun ti pozzu mancu taliari.” (I can’t even look at you.)

Nina paced in her room, where she had been confined by her raging mother as soon as she had left her father’s office. Her reaction wasn’t any different than she expected: furious, violent like only her outbursts could be when she got free of her meek demeanour. She was pretty sure the whole village had heard the string of curses and insults that had left that woman’s mouth as she hit her.

Nina was only now realising all that had happened that day. She had been accused, yelled at, beaten, called all sort of things. All because of her feelings.

But her family’s consideration of her was not her primary concern, at that moment. A family meeting was being held in her father’s office, a meeting that would likely decide hers and Tommy’s fate. And she wasn’t allowed to be there. Because she didn’t have a say in her own life, it didn’t belong to her. It never did.

The wait was killing her.

Her brothers’ heavy steps resounded in the hallway, causing her head to snap toward the closed door. With her heart racing, she rushed out of her room, but they pretended not to even see her as they headed towards their rooms, jaws clenched, fists tight.

“What did they say?” she asked them, forcing them to acknowledge her presence.

Salvatore pursed his lips, coming to a stop next to her. He leaned closer, looking her up and down with a grimace of contempt on his scarred face. “Svergognata,” he growled, before retiring to his room, slamming the door behind him. (Hussy.)

Pietro was just about to do the same, when her tired voice reached his ears.

“Pietro, please,” she whispered.

He stalled, probably considering whether to leave her in the dark or take pity on her and at least grant her the poor consolation of knowing something. He exhaled heavily, eyes darting around the hallway, then turned to look at her. “Uncle Mario feels humiliated,” he said lowly, walking closer to her until they were standing face to face. “He’s angry.”

“Speak clearly.”

“He wants to kill him.”

Nina’s stomach dropped at his words. No. No, no, no. She shuddered, anxiety growing in her chest. “No…”

“He says the terms for peace can’t stand now. Agnese won’t marry him, and sure as hell they don’t want to mix up with the Shelby family anymore.”

“I need to speak to dad,” she said frantically, eyes wide, moving to walk past him, but he stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Not now.”

“I have to.”

“Not now, Nina,” he said firmly, pressing his hands on her shoulders. “He can’t even bear to look at you right now. Whatever you say to him will only make it worse. Let him cool down first.”

“There’s no time.”

They would kill him. They would kill him and it was all her fault.

Pietro hesitated for a moment. “I managed to buy him some time already,” he revealed, dropping his hands by his sides and taking a couple of steps back. “I told dad we can’t make a move without consulting uncle Antonio first. We sent him a telegram, but it’ll take a while for it to reach England.”

Nina blinked, letting his words sink in. Her eyebrows bent in a frown, confusion and a faint relief swirling within her. “Why?”

“Certainly not out the kindness of my heart. U avirrìa accisu cu li manu mia,” he said through gritted teeth. (I would’ve killed him with my own hands.) “But we need to be careful with what we do.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. Tommy was safe, at least for now. But she was running on borrowed time, and she needed to find a solution fast. Yet, a flicker of hope had ignited in all that darkness. Because for some reason, despite the repulsion, and the disappointment, and the anger, Pietro was still on her side. He was still her ally, like he had always been. He was still someone she could trust.

“Please don’t let them hurt him,” she begged him, and had she circumstances been different, she would’ve despised how desperate she sounded.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“No, you have to promise me,” she reached out to grab his arm. “Tell dad I’ll do whatever he wants. I’ll marry Spinietta, to ensure that a war will never happen between us, and I won’t complain. But let Tommy live.”

Something switched in her brother’s cold eyes. It was subtle, and it went away as soon as it came. Hadn’t she known him all her life she wouldn’t have even noticed. “I promised to you you wouldn’t have to marry Spinietta unless you wanted it, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“Things are different now,” she murmured, a sense of hopelessness falling down on her as she spoke. “If that’s the only way to save him, then it’s what I want.”

“We’ll find another way.”

“How?”

He fixed his gaze straight ahead, pondering his next words. “I have an idea.”

A heavy silence descended upon them, one full of doubts, and concern, and unspoken fears. Whatever Pietro’s plan was, he wouldn’t tell her, not now. When he made to leave, Nina was hit by the urge to say something. Anything. She wanted him to know that she hadn’t been moved by selfishness, that she hadn’t planned for things to turn out the way they did. That she had fought against herself, against her feelings, until she just couldn’t anymore.

“Pietro,” she stopped him. “I never meant to ruin us all. I swear. I…” she sighed, looking for a way to put into words what she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. “Whatever I did, I did it out of…” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

Pietro rested his eyes on her, his features softening almost imperceptibly. “I know.”

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@mischievouslittlecreature @seedlings-stuff @misslittlegetou

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster @red-riding-wood

@optimisticsandwichgladiator @lunarubra

Tommy Shelby tag list:

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378 @jbrownta

[scribbly-artist]

Someone To Take Care Of

Summary: You’ve had awful back pain all day at work, and nothing you tried could remedy it. You’ve come home late on top of it. You’ve come home to your partner, Jayce, who wants to help melt your pain away.

Author’s Notes: I was very sad and in an immense amount of pain that kept me awake at 2am this morning, so fuck it, self indulgent fic. We also discussed tickly massages in the server and that’s all I was wishing for when I was kept awake from the pain. 😔 Other cramp and pain-havers, I hope you enjoy this one.

Words: ~1,000 | AO3 Link

The moon was already high in the sky once you arrived at your front doorstep. Your back had been aching all day, no matter how many painkillers you took at work, nothing seemed to ease the pain. You were so exhausted after the very long day you had, you were just ready to crawl into bed and sleep at this point. But you still had dinner to make…

You went to shove your keys into the front door lock, but noticed that the door was already unlocked when you twisted the handle. God, were you that late that Jayce was already home? The workaholic Jayce??

You pushed the door open, closing and locking the door as you proceeded to dump your outside belongings and shoes at the door. You could smell the aroma of food, following the scent as it led you through the entranceway to the kitchen. Jayce, your partner, was at the stove cooking your dinner for tonight. You snuck up behind him quietly, snaking your arms around his waist as you slumped your head on the back of his shoulder.

“You’re home late,” he commented, swishing the dinner he was preparing in the pan skillfully. “Are you feeling alright? Was work okay today?”

“I’m so tired… my back has been hurting all day… no matter what I did, it wouldn’t go away…” you mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter.

He moved the pan off the heat as he turned around, giving you a nice squeeze. You always adored his hugs.

“I’m nearly done – let me finish up here, and I’ll help you with the pain. How does that sound?” He pulled away, cupping the side of your face with his hand.

“No, no Jayce, it’s alright–”

Jayce brought a finger to your lips, stopping you in your tracks.

“I can see you're hurting. Please, let me help. I want to take care of you.” His eyes were filled with loving concern.

…well, you couldn't say no to that face.

You sat at the kitchen table, watching him cook and then clean the space, putting the food away once he was done. He grabbed you by the hand with a smile on his face, a small smile appearing on yours, leading you to your shared bedroom.

You sat down on the bed, and he followed suit. He placed a hand on your shoulder with a nudge. “Lay down, I’ll give you a massage that'll melt that pain away.”

“Thank you, love…” you replied with a shy smile, laying face down on the bed, the soft pillows comforting you. Jayce towered over you to get into position, rolling up your shirt to expose your back. He made sure his hands were warm before he began, rubbing them together and then touching down on your skin.

Jayce has given you massages before, just because he wanted to treat you or make you feel better. You always forget just how good he is with his hands. He rubbed tender circles into your lower back, and with such simple touches you were already melting. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let out a satisfied groan.

“Did I ever tell you how good you are at this…?” You mused aloud.

That got a chuckle out of Jayce. “You tell me every time, hun.”

If only you could have dragged Jayce to your work today – you wouldn't have had to deal with this pain all day. You were mumbling and making noises as he continued, his hands travelling up your back. However, once Jayce reached your shoulder blades a laugh escaped you as you jerked upwards a bit.

Jayce stopped for a moment. “Sorry, did it tickle? I forgot you're so sensitive,” he remarked with a laugh. “Do you want me to go somewhere else?”

“No… no, that's fine…” you turned your head a bit so you could look at him. Your face went a little bit red seeing his. “Actually, I don't mind it… if it tickles a little…”

A smirk reached Jayce’s face at first. Then it wavered back into a fond smile. “Okay. I'll make sure it doesn't tickle too much. I still want you to relax.”

Jayce’s touch grew lighter, dragging his fingertips across your skin instead of his thumbs. You started sleepily giggling. It wasn't too extreme that you wanted to bolt up, but it left nice tingles all across your skin. It was very comforting. He dragged patterns from your shoulders to the base of your neck, to your shoulder blades, all the way down your spine to your lower back. You were putty in his hands.

“Thihihis ihihis soho nihihice…” you couldn't help but giggle your words out quietly.

“If this is all I have to do to make you relax, I should be doing it more often, hmm?”

No spot on your back was left untouched. He even dragged his fingers up and down the side of your ribs and sides just to hear you giggle a little more. His heart swelled knowing that you were at peace at his doing, his touch. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Once he stopped, he gave you a gentle pat on the back. “Think that's enough?”

“Yehehes… I feheheel so much behehetter…” your eyes felt heavy, nearly closing as you spoke and snuggled into the pillow.

Jayce shifted so he could get up, gently tugging your shirt down for you. “I'll heat the dinner back up for you. No need to get up, I'll bring it to you.”

A sleepy smile was pressed onto your face. But before Jayce walked away, your hand caught his wrist. “Thank you so much, Jayce… I love you… ” you breathed out.

Jayce gave you a warm, loving smile as he paced back over, placing a hand on your head to stroke your soft hair.

“I love you, too. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

[gh0stly-mp3]

the path to you

yukimiya x gn!reader

synopsis: you and yukimiya pass by each other every day, put suddlently you stop appearing and he gets worried

tags: fluff, yukimiya is a gentlemen, strangers to friends/lovers, can be seen as platonic

warnings: mention of illness, might have some grammatical errors

a/n: hey! just asking, would you read a mma fighter!male reader fic? been thinking about it too much. byee 🏃‍♂️ - requests are open

Yukimiya is the type of person who likes to observe the things around him, as if every detail has something special to it. After all, one day he might not be able to see anymore.

He's not sure why, but ever since he started seeing you every day, at the same time, walking the same path, something inside him became… curious. It’s not like he was looking for anyone, but you… well, you always seemed interesting.

Every day, you would pass each other by. You two never spoke, but little by little, a kind silence started to build a connection between you. Yukimiya began to look forward to that moment, the moment when his eyes would meet with yours, even if it was just for a second. You always looked down or away, but when your eyes met his, he loved it. A shy smile, maybe, something that suggested you were starting to notice him too.

Yukimiya is not the type of person to shy away from approaching someone, quite the opposite. He has always been charismatic and confident, with his confidence up high. He’d stand there, sometimes just smiling, waiting to see if your shy smile would appear again. And it always did, even if quickly, like a reflex.

Then, one morning, the unexpected happened. You weren’t there.

At first, he thought maybe you were just running late. It happened from time to time. But when the next day came, and then the next, and the next… Yukimiya couldn’t help but feel a knot in his stomach. It wasn’t like you were great friends or anything, but… your absence bothered him. The poor boy found himself looking at the spot where you’d usually be, waiting for you to show up, but nothing.

The days turned into weeks, and he tried not to think too much about it, but the anxiety only grew. It wasn’t normal, I know, but… He was really worried.

And then, after two weeks, there you were again, with that familiar gaze and the lightness in your steps. His heart jumped.

The moment your eyes met, Yukimiya couldn’t hold back anymore. He couldn’t just smile from a distance like he used to. The need to know if you were okay, to understand what had happened, overtook him.

"Hey… I know you don't know me, but we pass by each other every day. And you suddently desappeared, are you okay?" - He asked, more urgently than expected, not really knowing what he was doing. - "My name is Yukimiya, by the way".

You seemed a bit surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to approach you directly. But then, your eyes softened, and with a small laugh, you said: "Yeah, I’m fine. I… was really sick these past few weeks. But I’m better now. Thank you for asking!"

Yukimiya felt an immediate sense of relief, but something else surfaced too. A desire to… be closer. To know more for you, if I could.

"I’m glad you’re feeling better! Sorry for approaching you like this" - He smiled, feeling the conversation open up in a way neither of you expect. - "If you want, I… could invite you for coffee later, just to talk. I don't know if it sounds weird, but I wanted to know you better."

What he didn’t expect was your look, almost surprised, but also with a hint of interest. What had once been just exchanged smiles on the street now seemed to have transformed into something more meaningful.

"I’d love that!" - You replied, and that simple answer made his heart race. - "I was also kinda interested in getting to know you. Let me give you my number!"

And so, with a shared smile, you both went your separate ways. But something inside Yukimiya told him that the routine of fleeting encounters were going to evolve into something more.

[buckysouvenir]

between the lines. (chapter 1)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: none.

word count: 717 words.

author’s note: hey guys! starting a new series. i'm so happy i found inspiration again! happy to go into this new story with you. i already have about 7 chapters that are already written, so i think i'll be posting one every day!

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

series masterlist⠀ |⠀ next chapter

The first time Y/N met Bucky Barnes, she was running late. In her defense, it wasn’t entirely her fault. The printer in the communications office had decided to throw a tantrum, spitting out page after page of half-printed mission briefs. She’d spent fifteen minutes wrestling with it, finally managing to salvage what she needed, but at the cost of being almost ten minutes behind schedule.

Clutching the papers to her chest, Y/N dashed down the hallways of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, sneakers squeaking against the polished floors. She rounded a corner sharply, narrowly dodging an agent holding a coffee cup, and headed straight for the debriefing room. Director Fury himself had asked for these files, and she wasn’t about to let a malfunctioning printer ruin her streak of reliability.

But in her haste, she didn’t notice the man stepping out of the adjacent corridor until it was too late.

She collided with what felt like a brick wall. The stack of papers flew from her hands, scattering across the floor in a chaotic mess. Stumbling back, Y/N caught herself against the wall and looked up—and up—to meet the startled blue eyes of none other than Bucky Barnes.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she blurted, immediately crouching down to gather the scattered papers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood there, stiff and uncertain, like someone who wasn’t used to being bumped into. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he wore a black hoodie and jeans that somehow made him look even taller and broader. His metal hand twitched at his side, the sunlight streaming through the windows catching on its polished surface.

“I… yeah, I’m fine,” he said finally, his voice low and slightly raspy. Then, as though realizing he should probably help, he crouched down to assist her with the papers. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Y/N said quickly, though her heart was racing. Partly from the collision, and partly because… well, she’d just run into Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes. The man who’d once been the Winter Soldier and was now supposedly trying to rebuild his life. She’d heard whispers around the facility that he was there for rehabilitation, but she hadn’t expected to actually see him, let alone crash into him.

He handed her a few papers, his metal fingers surprisingly gentle as they brushed against hers. She tried not to stare, but it was hard not to when he was right there, all sharp angles and quiet intensity.

“Thanks,” she said, standing up and clutching the papers tightly to her chest. “And sorry again. I was in a hurry, and I… well, clearly, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small, almost shy smile. “I’ve had worse.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that, though she immediately felt bad. “Right. Of course. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” he said again, and this time, his smile was a little more genuine. There was a moment of silence, awkward but not entirely unpleasant, before he added, “You… work here?”

“I do,” she said, nodding. “Communications team. I manage how information flows within S.H.I.E.L.D. and sometimes outside of it.” She gestured to the papers in her arms. “Which I should probably get to Director Fury before he starts wondering if I got lost.”

He nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. “Right. Don’t let me keep you.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then offered him a small smile. “It was nice meeting you, Bucky.”

His expression flickered, as though he wasn’t quite used to hearing his name spoken so casually. But then he nodded, his blue eyes softening just a little. “You too…”

“Y/N,” she supplied.

“You too, Y/N.”

With that, she turned and hurried off down the hallway, her heart still racing for reasons that had nothing to do with being late. As she disappeared around the corner, Bucky stood there for a moment, staring after her. Then, with a quiet shake of his head and a faint smile, he continued on his way, feeling just a little less out of place than he had before.

[enchantedtomeetyou1113]

post war Levi! x reader

Let me down slowly

______________________________

Summery: you and Levi live in your own small home after the war ended years before. You’ve been distant and he doesn’t know why.

-

A/n : hi! So basically I think I’m slowly becoming a song fic enthusiast it’s honestly an obsession. this is inspired by ‘let me down slowly’ by Alec Benjamin. Yes I know blast from the past I seen Alec post him playing it on guitar on TikTok and it inspired me to listen which inspired me to write this-I hope you enjoy!!!

-

Warnings: sad Levi . Angst . Hurt/comfort . Sfw

———————————————————————-

One week. One week of y/n being distant towards him. Sure they talk but not like the usual quiet conversations they share. There’s no comfortable silences and there hasn’t been soft whispers in the dark. Why? A question Levi asked over 100 times.

“Sorry I’ve just been in my head..” she’d reply with everytime, promising to give him attention after she finished with whatever task she’s so busy with.

And everytime he’d find her picking up a new task,and then another and another until she claims she’s too tired to stay up. Everytime she ends up sleeping while Levi lies awake fighting with his own fears and overthinking.

‘Did I do something?’

‘Is there someone else?’

These thoughts haunted his mind along with countless more. Levi was never good at voicing his feelings especially when it was ones that deemed him as weak or vulnerable.

So he fell asleep on the opposite side of their shared bed,feeling more and more restless without her normal proximity. His usual routine of holding her close until they both snored softly now changed into her falling asleep first curled up in her own little ball and Levi staying up staring at her until flipping over with his back facing the sleeping girl.

Hours later he woke up hearing footsteps sounding like they were coming from the kitchen and into the small bathroom down the small hallway. He blinked away the remaining sleep noticing the empty spot beside him.

Levi stood up feeling the cold floor and dragged himself up and through the little hallway to the bathroom door.

He knocked softly “y/n?” His voice laced with sleep and worry. “Are you alright? Why are you up so late?”

He heard rustling in the bathroom before he heard her small voice. “Im fine-“ He didn’t believe her from the sound of her voice. He furrowed his brows “okay.. come back to bed when you’re done,yeah?” He didn’t hear anything else after that and he stayed a few moments before walking back to the cold bedroom that used to be warm.

He waited laying face up on their bed. Staring at the ceiling waiting for his girl to come back. His patience was growing thin as 15 minutes passed by until he heard the floorboards creek under her steps as she came around the corner into the dark room.

He took this as an opportunity,an open door of sorts to finally talk to her about what’s really going on.

“Hey,” he starts his eyes not looking at her figure as she crawled onto her side on the bed. He felt himself get choked up trying to think of the right thing to say to get her to open up.

“Hi..” she said back. His eyes trailed to her and he wanted to sink into a hole and hide from the unreadable look on her face. It also wasn’t helping that he felt his eyes burn with unwanted tears.

‘Of course she doesn’t love me, look at me. I’m missing an eye,I have 1 and a half of a hand ugly scars that take up half of my face-‘ Levi was thinking to himself his own voice feeling like a drum in his ears and before he realized his arms wrapped around her pulling her in tighter then ever.

He heard her soft gasp. A man who once had dignity and grace. Who many looked up to and feared,now sat slipping through the cracks of her cold embrace.

“If.. if you���re leaving will you let me down slowly? Can you not string me along? Show me some sympathy or something-“ he breathed out as the hot tears fell down his cheek. “If you want to go-I can’t stop you..but I’ll be lonely” he whispered the last part but she caught it.

He felt her arms wrap around him in return. And his eyes widened slightly. “Levi,” she sighs as he prepares himself for the worst. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” His brows raised and a hopeful but confused expression was plastered on his face. His lips parted slightly but he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“I’m sorry…I’ve been so worried that I’m not enough for you and.. and that I’m not enough for anyone that I became distant.” Her eyes don’t meet his when he pulls back to look at her expression.

“What?” His brows furrow for the 10th time tonight. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“It…it started when you had that..nightmare last week..” the memory flashed through his mind.

~

“Darling it’s okay-it’s not real wake up.” She shook him softly.

“Get-get off me!” He struggled in his sleep.

“It’s just me! Come on open your eyes-“

His eyes shot open and he sat up abruptly gasping. He felt his whole body shaking and in a cold sweat. “It’s okay..” she whispered as she rubbed circles on his arm. He shrugged her off as he plopped himself back down. She felt a little hurt but pushed it to the side. “Do.. do you want to talk about it?” “No.” “Are you sure?”

“You can’t help anyways.”

Oh.

~

“Y/n…” he trails off understanding her behavior.

“I just…I just want to be able to help you.. shouldn’t I be the one to?” She whispered

“You do-you are.” He puts his good hand on her cheek cupping her sad face. “You are the only one who helps. And the only one I want to help.. you do more for me then I can ever ask for.” his thumb pets her cheek. She feels tears well up in her eyes and Levi wipes the hot tear as it falls down her face.

“I wouldn’t want it from anyone else. You are the only one I’d ever need.” Her lips turn slightly up and his face mirrors hers.

She moved closer to press her lips onto his and he practically melts into her intoxicating touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his around her waist as he pulls her closer to him. When the kiss breaks he lays down pulling her onto his chest and his fingers find their way into her hair. She sighs in content and both feel the weight on their shoulders lifted.

“You’re not actually allowed to leave.” He says matter of factly.

“Lucky you that’s the last thing on my mind.”

———————————————————————

A/n: you know what I tried 😔 I don’t know how sucky this is but please like and comment your thoughts 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Worth Fighting For

You loved Marshall. That was never in question.

But lately, it felt like you were a ghost in your own relationship. Marshall was always busy—writing, in the studio, or dealing with one thing or another. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand his world. You knew how much his work meant to him, and you’d always been his biggest supporter. But somewhere along the way, you started to feel like a background character in his life.

The little things he used to do—leaving sweet notes, calling just to hear your voice, even looking at you like you were his entire world—those things had disappeared. You knew he loved you, but lately, it felt like he was just going through the motions.

---

It started innocently enough.

You’d been having a rough day, and one of your coworkers, Chris, noticed. He was easy to talk to—kind, funny, and always ready with a compliment that made you feel seen.

“You look stressed,” Chris said one afternoon, leaning against the edge of your desk.

You shrugged, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve been killing it here lately. I don’t know how you manage to stay on top of everything.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. It had been so long since someone looked at you like that, like you were more than just someone to lean on or depend on. For a fleeting moment, it felt good.

But as soon as you got home that evening, guilt settled in. You hadn’t done anything wrong—nothing beyond a smile and a little small talk—but the fact that it felt *nice* bothered you.

The guilt gnawed at you for days, and Marshall didn’t seem to notice. He’d been distant, wrapped up in his own world as always.

One night, as you sat across from him at the dinner table, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Marshall,” you said softly.

“Hm?” he replied without looking up from his phone.

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly. “We need to talk.”

His head snapped up, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath. “I feel like we’ve been drifting apart. Like… like I’m not a priority to you anymore.”

He frowned, setting his phone down. “That’s not true. You know I love you.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “But I don’t *feel* it, Marshall. Not lately. I feel like I’m just… here. Like I’m someone you expect to always be around, no matter what.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a hand, cutting him off. “Let me finish. There’s more.”

His brows furrowed, but he nodded, giving you the floor.

“There’s this guy at work,” you began hesitantly, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing happened, but… he’s been nice to me. He notices when I’m upset, and he compliments me, and for a moment, it felt really good. It felt good to be seen. And then I felt *horrible* because it made me realize how much I’ve been missing that with you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You risked a glance at him, and the hurt in his eyes made your stomach churn.

“So, what are you saying?” he asked finally, his voice low.

“I’m saying that I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to feel invisible to the person I love most. And I don’t want to be the kind of person who gets attention from someone else and *likes* it because I’m not getting it at home. I don’t want this to break us, but I need you to fight for me, Marshall. I need to know I’m worth fighting for.”

He sat back in his chair, running a hand down his face. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

You waited, your heart pounding in your chest.

Finally, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and determination. “You are worth fighting for. You always have been. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t.”

You bit your lip, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not just about saying it, Marshall. I need to *feel* it.”

“I know,” he said, standing and moving around the table to crouch in front of you. He took your hands in his, his touch firm but gentle. “I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I’ve taken you for granted. That’s on me. But I swear to you, I���ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To make you feel like the queen you are.”

You let out a shaky laugh, tears spilling down your cheeks. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his grip on your hands tightening. “Yeah, I do. And I’m sorry. For all of it. For not seeing how much you were hurting. For making you feel like you weren’t enough. I’m gonna do better. I promise.”

You searched his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope.

“Okay,” you said softly. “But this has to be both of us, Marshall. We both have to work on this.”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.”

--

[w1nkie]

Glinda x Fiyero x Elphaba

(what the hell is their throuple ship name btw)

this is 18+ also…i wouldn’t say it’s explicit though.

Glinda is the usual pillow princess

Don’t get me wrong. I think for Elphaba Glinda can be absolutely feral, but I feel like most of the time…she wants to get pegged…period.

She’s definitely the one that either immediately passes out after an intense round or keeps begging for more even though the other two are tired. Never in between though. On Monday she’s up to go four rounds without breaks and on Friday she’s out like a light after one.

I just can’t imagine her putting in a lot of work when it comes to Fiyero. She’d definitely prefer receiving the pleasure than giving. And I think that’s fine. With Elphaba we all know that girl would be on her knees doing anything to get that green thing to drip.

I’m sorry it’s late so excuse my language.

Picture it; 2:00 a.m. and the throuple just finished a particularly sweaty round. Elphaba, Fiyero with Glinda in the middle. Fiyero (pretty much asleep) arm over both women, gently stroking Elphaba’s bare hip, she’s drifting in and out of slumber. And Glinda’s manicured pointer finger pokes the male bicep that’s draped over her. No reply? She pokes it again and continues to do so to both until one wakes up and gives her the pleasure that she wants more of.

I understand…I guess…why people automatically make Elphaba a dom. But I like the thought of her willingly let the other two be in control. And you can’t convince me otherwise—Glinda loves boob touching.

ALSO CHECK OUT MY NRW GELPHIE YT VID

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 7

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1000

Masterlist

———————————————————————

"Look on the bright side: it could have been a glass of Cuba Libre or red wine... Mojito stains so much less!"

Alessia’s comment made me smile. I was now in her room, curled up in her arms, seeking comfort to erase the memory of that disastrous evening.

“What a nightmare. Why did he drink so much? He was fine an hour before!”

“He ran into an old friend, and I’m sure they reminisced over countless cocktails.”

She was laughing now, that laugh I loved so much.

“You know it’s not funny for me! Tomorrow, well technically today since it’s already 2 a.m., I’m supposed to meet her. I’ll have to apologize, grovel even, and just thinking about it makes me want to cry!”

I pouted. She leaned in, kissed me, and set about making me forget that night in her own way.

The next morning, I arrived at the office at 10 a.m. My morning mission was simple: tidying up. The second was dealing with my hangover and relentless headache. Our two interns were already at work, and Alexia arrived shortly after, with pastries and the newspaper under her arm.

“Good morning, you! I brought breakfast! We’re in the local paper!” she announced cheerfully.

I’d already seen the article, complete with a photo of us with Lucy. The final paragraph mentioned the incident but omitted any details about the argument or the mojito.

“Yeah, and about the ‘incident’... She’s going to be thrilled,” I said sarcastically.

“Do you think she’s mad at us?”

“Oh, of course not. I’m sure she loved being called names with a mojito splashed in her face!” I replied, dripping with irony.

“I mean, it was Philippe who messed up. I spoke to him this morning, and he was really embarrassed. He couldn’t reach you…”

“I have no desire to speak with him today! Seriously! I’m supposed to see her soon. I already sent her a huge apology email, tried calling—no answer. Her only response was an email, no greeting or anything: ‘The meeting stands.’ So, Philippe’s regrets are the least of my worries!” I replied, exasperated.

I was more nervous than ever about the meeting tonight. Alexia tried to lighten the mood by teasing me.

“Well, Miss Cocktail Bar Idea, this one’s on you! Own it!” she said, winking.

“Oh, and the whole idea of having the Mayor come was yours! And yet, it’s me who has to bear the consequences tonight!”

It was nearly 7:30 p.m., and I was running late. But since she was always late... I wore my dark sunglasses, still nursing my headache. The day felt endless: cleaning up, paperwork, and now this meeting. I just wanted it to be over. 

When I got near the house, of course, this time she was punctual, waiting by the door. I took a deep breath and plastered on my best smile. She watched me approach with a dark look, arms crossed, colder than ever—a far cry from how she’d been just 24 hours ago on the terrace. Back to square one. The dragon had returned. 

With my most convincing smile, I greeted her.

“Good evening.”

She responded icily, offering only a handshake. I had to address last night’s events now.

“Listen, about last night, I...”

“I don’t want to talk about it, or about your idiotic drunk friend, or about being publicly insulted and covered in mojito, or the fact that you didn’t warn me he’d be there, knowing how things stand between us.”

Her words came out in a torrent.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I probably should have warned you. But it wasn’t certain he’d be there, and besides, you see him regularly at city council meetings without any issues. Last night, the alcohol got the better of him. I know he’s truly sorry and...”

She cut me off again.

“Of course you should have warned me! You only cared about the publicity you’d get from my presence!”

I tried to keep my calm.

“Honestly, you were invited as a client, not as the Mayor. Yes, your being the Mayor brings journalists, but it’s not because…”

“Don’t patronize me! You’re a little manipulator who can’t even manage her drunk friends!”

I was boiling inside. Her eyes, so gentle yesterday, were now weapons piercing through me.

“Alright, I’d like to see the progress on the renovations now, if it’s not too much to ask!”

The rest of the meeting was filled with a heavy tension. She was critical, nitpicking everything and nothing—about the size of certain tiles, the wallpaper, the dimensions of specific rooms... I was tired, exhausted from lack of sleep, from this relentless headache, and from her constant jabs. I just wanted this endless day to be over. I stopped listening.

“Ona! Are you even listening to me?”

In a very polite, distant tone, I replied.

“Excuse me. I don’t think this is going to work anymore.”

She seemed taken aback by my reaction. I continued.

“I understand that after last night, you’re upset. But I think every time you see me, you’ll be reminded of all of this. We can’t keep working together. All the plans are done; I can pass the project on to a colleague I trust. She’s excellent. This won’t cost you anything, and I’ll even cover the new tiles as compensation.”

I said it matter-of-factly. Alexia would probably kill me. But I was at my limit. I was done with this back-and-forth, this constant game of tension and provocation. She looked utterly shocked. I pulled out a paper, offering it to her.

“Here’s her website so you can see her work. I’ll handle all the arrangements and the handover.”

“But I didn’t ask you to leave!”

Her brows were furrowed, concern showing for the first time.

“No, but honestly, that’s the message you’re sending with how you’re treating me. I’m not blaming you. I think you’d be more comfortable with someone else, and since Alexia isn’t available, I suggest this. I’ll get back to you this weekend; my colleague will call you shortly. The work will continue smoothly, no issues. Have a good evening, Madame Bronze.”

I turned to leave, but then I felt a firm grip on my right arm, pulling me back. 

“Don’t go, Ona. I want you to stay.”

Her expression had softened.