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bestalbertcamuslover · 3 days ago

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Her Family Loves Him

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✯ pairing: Max Verstappen x Ex! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: None✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Her family loved Max. He was the type of boyfriend parents adored—loving and caring—and Max cared a lot about her. She did too, undoubtedly. However, the breakup was unforeseen, unpredictable, just like her. Something about not handling well the transition to becoming a public person and the downsides of having a very famous boyfriend had been weighing on her much more lately, and she just broke up.

The split, nevertheless, did not stop her parents and Max from staying in contact. Not as often as before, but there were still messages, memes, and that same familiarity, as if the breakup had never happened. But there was still room for a second chance—or at least, that was what her mom thought.

She knocked on her parents’ house door after they asked her to fix a technical problem with the computer—something they did more frequently than she would like. Fortunately, they didn’t live too far, so it wasn’t much of a hassle.

Her parents’ house was as warm and familiar as always, but the moment she stepped inside, something felt off. She set her bag down and raised an eyebrow at her mom, who was hovering suspiciously close to the living room door.

“What is it this time?” she asked, slipping into her usual playful exasperation. “Forgot your email password again? Computer ‘deleted itself?’”

“Oh, nothing too complicated,” her mom said, smiling too widely and tucking her hands behind her back.

Her dad appeared in the hallway, looking unusually cheerful. “Hey, sweetheart! Thanks for coming over so quickly.”

She squinted, her suspicion mounting. “Okay… what’s going on?”

Then, she heard it.

“Hey.”

Her stomach dropped at the sound of his voice. She turned toward the living room and froze. Max stood by the sofa, hands stuffed into his pockets, his hesitant smile not quite masking the awkwardness of the moment.

Her jaw dropped slightly. She blinked, then took a step back. “Yeah, I’m not doing this,” she said flatly, turning toward the door.

“Wait,” Max said quickly, his voice almost pleading, and she stopped just long enough to glare at her mom.

Her mom raised her hands in mock innocence. “He was in the area, and I thought it might be nice for you two to… talk.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In the area? Really? That’s what we’re going with?”

Her dad shuffled uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “We may have said something about needing help with the computer…”

“A fake computer issue,” she muttered, spinning back toward Max. “Seriously?”

Max shrugged, looking sheepish. “Your mom said you’d be here, and I thought…” He trailed off, clearly unsure of what to say.

Her arms crossed, and her glare deepened. “This isn’t happening. You can’t just ambush me like this.”

“It’s not an ambush!” her mom protested brightly. “It’s… an opportunity. For you two to finally talk.”

She threw her mom an incredulous look, although deep-down, she knew they needed to talk. “Talk about what? We’ve already done the breaking-up part, in case you forgot.”

Her mom gave her the kind of patient, guilt-laden look only a parent could manage. “Sweetheart, you two barely had time to say anything. It was rushed. Don’t you think it’s worth at least clearing the air? Closure is important.”

She opened her mouth to argue but couldn’t deny the faint tug of guilt creeping in. When they’d broken up, she’d been too overwhelmed to say much, and afterward, she’d avoided thinking about how unfair that might have been.

Max’s blue eyes flicked to hers, quietly hopeful but not pushing. He looked like he was waiting for her to make the call, and it made her want to curse out loud. Those blue eyes still had that hold on her, especially when he looked so vulnerable, so wounded. She knew what she did, and perhaps she also could recognize that it had been a rushed decision where she did not let him talk. Regardless, she was stubborn.

She let out a sharp exhale, throwing her hands up. “Fine. We’ll talk.”

Her mom clapped her hands together, clearly trying not to look too pleased. “Great! You two can sit in the living room. We’ll give you some privacy.”

“We will?” her dad asked, earning a sharp elbow from her mom. “Right. Yes. Privacy. We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Max stepped aside to let her enter the living room, and she brushed past him, her arms still crossed. She plopped down on the sofa, her body language screaming reluctance.

He sat down at the opposite end, keeping his distance. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them.

Max cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I—uh—don’t really know where to start,” he admitted, his hands clasped in front of him as he leaned forward. “I just… I wanted to see you. To talk.”

She avoided his gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. “About what?” she asked, her tone defensive, though she hated how sharp it sounded.

“About us,” he said simply, his voice low but steady. “About how things ended.”

She let out a breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Max, we’ve been over this.”

“Not really,” he countered, his eyes meeting hers. “We didn’t actually talk. You just… you broke up with me, and that was it.”

Her stomach churned with guilt, his words hitting closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. He wasn’t wrong. She had ended things abruptly, almost out of nowhere, and then had avoided him ever since.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

“I know,” he said quickly, his tone laced with sincerity. “But you did. And I don’t think I even understand why.”

She winced, her chest tightening as the weight of her actions settled over her. “It wasn’t something I planned, okay? I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Max’s brow furrowed, his confusion evident. “Couldn’t handle what? Me? Racing? The media?”

“All of it,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “The constant attention, the cameras, the comments. Every time I was with you, I felt like I had to be perfect because someone was always watching. And you… you were so focused, so good at it all, and I couldn’t keep up.”

Max leaned back, his expression softening, but there was still a flicker of hurt in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve listened. I would’ve done something.”

She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. “Because I didn’t even know what to say, Max! I didn’t know how to explain it without sounding selfish or ungrateful. So I just… ran.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. The silence between them grew heavy, the weight of her confession hanging in the air.

“I wish you’d trusted me enough to stay,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

Her chest ached at his words, the guilt she’d been suppressing threatening to overwhelm her. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I know I messed up.”

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back, his eyes never leaving her. “Look,” he said softly, “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad or to guilt you into anything. I’m here because I still care about you. Because I don’t want this to be the end of us.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the confession. “Max…” she began, but he shook his head gently, cutting her off.

“Just hear me out,” he said, leaning forward again, his elbows resting on his knees. “I know my life can be… a lot. The racing, the media, the travel—it’s overwhelming. I get that. And I know I wasn’t always as present as I should’ve been. But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. I really want you by my side.”

She took a deep breath, the gentle words weighting on her. She held his gaze, the sincerity in those blue orbs almost underwhelming.

“You don’t have to handle it alone,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “I never expected you to. I should’ve made that clearer, but I thought… I thought you knew.”

“It’s not just about you, though. It’s about me, too. I let the pressure get to me, and instead of talking to you, I shut down. That’s on me,” she replied.

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe we both made mistakes,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fix this. If you still want to, I mean.”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need,” she said quietly, not liking how vulnerable she was sounding, but yet the words slipping out of her mouth. “What if I let you down again?”

“You won’t,” he said without hesitation. “And even if you do, we’ll figure it out. That’s what relationships are, right? You don’t have to be perfect. I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you.”

She bit her lip, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to believe him, to let herself fall back into the safety of his words and his presence. But another part of her was terrified—terrified of failing again, of breaking his heart, of breaking her own, all while getting overwhelmed and hurt by it.

“It’s not simple,” he admitted, his voice steady. “But it’s worth it.”

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air like leaves in the breeze. She could feel the firmness of his gaze, the sincerity in his expression, and it made her chest ache.

“Max,” she started, her voice gentle, “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” he said intently, his eyes unwavering. “But if you’re scared, that’s okay. We’ll take it one step at a time. Just… don’t shut me out.” He leaned forward slightly, his expression open and unguarded. “I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now,” he continued, his voice steady but tender. “I just want us to try. To figure it out together”

She hesitated for a moment longer, her thoughts racing. The fear of failing again was still there, very present, but so was the undeniable pull toward him. Toward the man who cared so much about her, he planned this ambush with her mom even after she had not broken up in the most compassionate way.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the gap between them, reaching out to take his hand. His warmth seeped into her skin, grounding her. “Okay,” she said finally.

Max’s face broke into a smile, the kind that reached his eyes and softened every hard edge. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone laced with cautious hope.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, her own smile growing.

Max smirked, glancing toward the kitchen, where her parents’ voices carried on in a mix of hushed whispers and not-so-hushed laughter. Then, from the direction of the kitchen, there was the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Loudly.

She turned toward the doorway as her parents stood there, her mom wearing an exaggerated expression of innocence, while her dad unsuccessfully stifled a grin.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” her mom said, waving a hand. “We were just… checking on the oven.”

Her dad snorted. “We don’t even have anything in the oven.”

Her mom shot him a look before turning her attention back to the pair on the couch. “We’re just happy you two finally talked,” she said, beaming.

“I still can’t believe you two planned this,” she chuckled slightly.

Her mom grinned unapologetically. “Well, sometimes a little push is all you need.”

Max turned to her, his smile softening. “I guess I owe them a thank you.”

She peeked at him, her embarrassment fading as she met his warm gaze. “You’re not the one who has to deal with them later,” she quipped, her tone light but affectionate.

Her mom clapped her hands together. “So, dinner?” she asked brightly. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

Her dad groaned. “Does this mean I have to set the table?”

As her parents bickered good-naturedly on their way back to the kitchen, Max turned to her, his hand tightening gently around hers. “I’m glad we talked,” he said quietly.

“Me too,” she admitted, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

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✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <333

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m-ayo-o · 1 day ago

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call me !

ft. 21+ bf Toge Inumaki

Thinking of 21+ Toge Inumaki who calls you up at work just to make you...

"come"

Not here, no no no no--

Your body struggles to resist his power, but after a few seconds you're squirming in your office chair.

Bringing your hand to cover your flushed face, you start telling him that it's not funny and that his lunch break check ups were really sweet..

Until this started.

It's not as if you two can talk much anyway, it's just nice to hear him on the other side of the phone; even his breath, or his laugh.

But when he gets into this mischievous mood you know he won't stop.

"Toge, I'm hanging up I have to--"

"stay on the phone"

"Ah- Toge--!!!" You scream, alerting your co-workers who start looking over their desks.

"Toge.." you shout whisper, cupping the phone to your face, "you can't keep me on the phone all day- I have to work!!"

You hear him giggling from the other side, making you wonder what the hell he's planning next.

"go to the bathroom"

For fuck's sake.

You groan and your body gets up by itself, taking you to a private bathroom stall where your arm rises and opens the door.

Having your body move like this was very unusual the first few times, but you're getting used to the feeling of being completely controlled, and realistically you do trust him.

"lock the door"

You can't help but think he's wasting his power, messing with you like this.

"touch yourself"

"Toge..."

Your face heats up immediately as your free hand starts roaming around your body, undoing your blouse, feeling under your bra.

It's like he's actually here, touching you himself.

"touch your clit"

"ah.. Toge.."

He wants you to feel it.

Making you come on command is fun and all, but it's over so quickly and he really loves to build you up.

He wishes he could tell you so many things.

But right now he would love to tell you what a good girl you are and that he's imagining how pretty you look.

And with your skirt pushed up and your blouse undone, looking all hot and bothered.. he isn't wrong.

"take a picture of yourself"

"Oh~ Toge.. really?" You're moaning and complaining about the matter but you've already opened the camera on your phone.

Your finger presses the screen and a series of cute, filthy pictures are taken. Between your hand down your panties, rubbing yourself, and your boobs spilling out of your top, you do make a very pretty picture.

He doesn't have to tell you the next part.

You send them to him immediately and hear him moan from the other side.

"Ohh.." fuck, he wishes he could thank you for those.

But instead he just pushes his hands down his shorts and starts stroking himself.

You can hear him starting to breathe heavier and you know exactly what he's doing.

"Toge.. I.. have to.. get back t--"

"Uuhh.." another moan comes through the phone and you know you're staying on the line till you're both done.

You know what he wants.

"Toge.. will you help me come?"

You can hear his breathy panting from the other side but not a word in a reply.

But he's focusing on your voice, the way you're whimpering his name, the shortness of your breath. The precum is just dripping out of him at the sight of your pictures and he needs to hear you a little more.

"Toge.. I wanna come.. now.." your finger is circling around your wet clit, just like you would do if you were alone. But you haven't been alone in so long, having such an attentive partner as Toge. He would never let you do this by yourself normally. And now you're here, locked in the bathroom at work, fingering yourself weakly, you're having trouble.

"Toge.. I need.. help.."

You admit, you sound pathetic.

But it's getting him harder.

"Ugh.." you hear him grunt and he's biting his lip on the other side, gripping his phone to his ear so he can hear your every breath.

He needs more, though.

"beg"

Your thighs start trembling now, your head rushes with the feeling of his power, once again, and your mouth opens automatically-

"Please.. please let me, let me come, Toge?" you plead down the phone, afraid that any second the bathroom door could open and one of your hapless colleagues could walk into you whimpering to yourself.

"Toge.. I'm begging, please, please tell me to come..."

The embarrassment overwhelms you with the words spilling out of your mouth, but he has got exactly what he wanted.

Oh, how he wishes he could stroke your hair and give you a kiss for begging him so nicely.

But instead he will reward you with pleasure.

"come"

"I-- ahh-- Toge.. th- thank you.."

Your relieved and happy moans take him over the edge, as he gets his own release, sighing down the phone as he finishes with a grin on his face.

A few seconds pass as you both catch your breath and regain your senses.

"Toge, you're a menace," you roll your eyes, buttoning up your shirt and pulling your skirt back into place.

You laugh together over the phone and you hang up, getting a text shortly after-

see you later for round two ^^

toge

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #21+ toge #toge inumaki #toge #toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki

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cosmiclily · 2 days ago

Note

Can you write a Vi oneshot y/n is two years younger than Vi and is Jinx best friend. Vi sees y/n as a younger sister since she and Jinx have been childhood best friends while she has had a crush on Vi since she first met her. Jinx knows and teases her about it but is rooting for the reader and Vi to get together. Vi is protective of y/n especially when she sees people flirt with y/n. As they grow up y/n starts trying to move on since she believes Vi won’t ever have feelings for her but Vi does love her but never made a move because she is Jinx best friend and thinks Jinx wouldn’t approve. Vi finds out by Vander that Jinx is helping y/n get ready for her date and encourages her that she needs to confess her feelings before it’s too late and has to watch y/n be in a relationship. Vi confesses goes to y/n place and confesses her feelings and is surprised when y/n kisses her and tells her that she’s always loved her since they were kids the two sleep with together and are each others first the next day reveal their relationship and Jinx and Vander are happy for the two. Fast forward the two are married and have two kids together

BFS - My Best Friend’s Sister - Vi x F!Reader

wc: 4.6k

cw: none, i think.

notes: uhm, i got a little carried away with this one 🤡

anyway, thank you for the request, hope you enjoy! ⋆˚✿˖°

The first time I met Jinx, I had no idea my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t even imagine. We met on the very first day of high school. My first impression of her? The bright blue hair, of course—it was impossible to miss—and the fact that she was insanely smart, like should-have-skipped-high-school-and-gone-straight-to-college smart. Her intelligence wasn’t just impressive; it ended up saving my skin more times than I can count.

One of those times was during our first biology project. The teacher paired us together, and Jinx offered to work on it at her house. She mentioned that her dad wasn’t home and her sister would probably be out late because of basketball practice. It worked perfectly for me because my house was not an option.

So, off to Jinx’s house we went. She lived in this quirky, mismatched house attached to her dad’s bar. The second I stepped into her room, I knew I was in a completely different world. The walls were covered in her sketches—like, really good sketches—and there were mechanical parts scattered around from her various projects. It wasn’t messy, though; it was… creative chaos. Her room had so much personality, like every inch of it told a story about her.

We dove into the project and worked on it for hours. Time flew by so quickly I didn’t even realize how late it had gotten until her sister came home. And wow—Vi. That was her name, as I later learned. She was two years older than us and looked incredible in her basketball uniform. She had this effortless confidence about her, like she didn’t even have to try to be cool.

“Who’s this?” Vi asked Jinx, tossing her hair back casually and wiping her forehead with the bottom of her jersey. The motion gave me a quick glimpse of her abs under the loose uniform, and—wow—I definitely wasn’t prepared for that.

“Oh, this is Y/N,” Jinx said before I could even attempt to respond. “She’s in my bio class. We were working on a project, but she’s about to head out.”

I was grateful Jinx stepped in because, honestly, I felt like I’d forgotten how to speak. Vi was… hypnotizing. The way she stood there, so effortlessly cool, it made my cheeks heat up instantly. I was pretty sure I wasn’t drooling, but the tightness in my chest told me I was one awkward moment away from embarrassing myself.

“H-Hi,” I managed to mutter, giving her a tiny, shy wave. My voice cracked slightly, which only made me want to crawl under a rock.

Vi’s lips curled into a teasing smile as she crossed her arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Hi,” she replied, her voice warm but laced with playful sarcasm. “Nice to meet one of my sister’s friends. First one, in fact.”

“Hey!” Jinx protested, rolling her eyes. “I have friends.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure you do.” Then, turning back to me, she added, “You must be special. Jinx doesn’t usually invite people over. Did she bribe you with snacks or something?”

I laughed nervously, still hyper-aware of her presence. “No snacks, just… science, I guess.”

Vi chuckled, the sound low and almost musical, and it sent a weird flutter through my chest. “Well, don’t let her scare you off. She might be a pain, but she’s harmless.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jinx muttered sarcastically, tossing a pillow in Vi’s direction. Vi caught it with ease, smirking before tossing it back onto Jinx’s bed.

“Anyway,” Vi said, straightening up, “it was nice meeting you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

I nodded, still feeling like I was stuck in some kind of surreal dream. “Nice meeting you too,” I mumbled, trying not to sound as flustered as I felt.

As Vi turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder with a playful wink, and my heart practically stopped. Once she was gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“So,” Jinx said, breaking the silence with a sly grin, “you’re blushing.”

“What? No, I’m not!” I protested quickly, though the heat radiating from my face told a different story.

“Oh, you so are,” she teased, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first person to fall for Vi’s charm. She has that effect on people.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, feeling more embarrassed by the second.

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From that day on, I made every excuse possible to go to Jinx’s house. Studying for a test? Jinx’s house. Working on a project? Jinx’s house. Binge-watching the new show we both got into? Definitely at Jinx’s house.

And don’t get me wrong—it wasn’t just because of Vi (though Jinx would totally argue otherwise). I genuinely loved being there. Jinx’s house had this warmth to it, a chaotic but comforting energy that made me feel like I belonged. After I met Vander, Jinx’s dad, the place felt even more like a second home. Vander was the kind of guy who made everyone feel welcome. He’d always crack a joke or offer food, and he treated me like I was part of the family from the start.

But… yeah. My crush on Vi? It only got worse. I found myself lurking in hallways or hanging around the kitchen, hoping to catch even a quick glimpse of her. Every time I saw her, I tried to muster up the courage to start a conversation. The problem was, as soon as I opened my mouth, my brain seemed to short-circuit.

One morning, after a sleepover at Jinx’s, I went downstairs to grab a glass of water. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, but there she was standing in the kitchen in sweatpants and a sports bra making breakfast.

“Good morning,” Vi said, her voice casual as she kept her eyes on the pan in front of her. “Do you want breakfast?”

For a second, I forgot how to form words. “Oh, uh—if it’s not a bother, yeah, I’d like some,” I managed to say, grabbing a glass of water and sitting at the kitchen table.

The silence between us grew heavier by the second as she scrambled eggs, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. My mind was blank—well, except for the part of me panicking about how awkward I probably looked. Desperate to fill the silence, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.

“Did you know that eggshells have, like, 17,000 pores?”

Vi froze for a moment and slowly turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised, like I’d just sprouted a second head. “Uh… no. I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” I said weakly, feeling my face heat up. “Fun fact, I guess.”

She gave me a small, amused smile and went back to cooking. But the damage was done—I was mortified. From that day on, I vowed to never start a conversation with Vi unless someone else was there to save me from myself.

Of course, I made the mistake of telling Jinx about the whole thing. She laughed so hard I thought she might pass out, and for the next week, she didn’t let me live it down. Every time we hung out, she’d drop random egg facts just to tease me.

“Hey, did you know an ostrich egg can support the weight of a grown man?” she’d say, smirking.

Or: “Apparently, chickens can lay blue eggs. Do you think Vi would be impressed if you told her that?”

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During our sophomore year, my crush on Vi only grew worse. I didn’t miss a single one of her basketball games—not one. Did I know anything about basketball? Absolutely not. I couldn’t even follow the rules half the time. But it didn’t matter. Watching her on the court, seeing her light up whenever she scored, and that radiant smile she wore when her team won—it was enough to keep me coming back.

Of course, I dragged Jinx along to every game. She didn’t care much for sports and made a point of complaining loudly about how boring it was, but I think deep down she knew why I was so invested. “You’re hopeless,” she’d say with a smirk whenever I got flustered after Vi waved at us from the court.

The best part, though, was after the games. Vi always made a point to come over and talk to us. Well, to Jinx mostly, but she’d smile at me, too, and ask me questions like, “What did you think of the game?” or “Did you see that last play?” And every time, I’d stumble through some vague answer because honestly, I’d been too busy staring at her to pay attention to the game itself.

Being around her made me so happy. Just those small moments of acknowledgment, those little smiles and casual conversations, were enough to keep my heart racing for days. But deep down, I knew the truth: Vi only saw me as Jinx’s younger friend. A little sister, at best. She’d made that painfully clear on multiple occasions.

Once, when we were all hanging out after a game, someone jokingly suggested that I had a crush on Vi. I don’t even remember who said it—maybe one of her teammates—but I remember how Vi laughed it off immediately. “Oh, Y/N? She’s like a kid sister,” she said with a grin, ruffling my hair like I was some kind of puppy.

It stung, but I tried to play it off, laughing along even as my chest tightened. I told myself it didn’t matter. Having her in my life at all, even as a friend or honorary sibling, was better than nothing. But the truth was, every time she called me “kid”, it felt like a gentle reminder of how impossible my feelings for her really were.

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After Vi moved to college, I knew I had to let go. The multiple reminders that she only saw me as a kid—Jinx’s best friend who told weird egg facts—played on a loop in my head. I told myself it was time to move on, to stop clinging to a fantasy that would never happen. But trying to move on was so much harder than I expected.

I started looking for pieces of her in everyone I met. Every girl I got to know, every potential crush—I couldn’t help but compare them to Vi. How a girl would act a certain way, and the first thing I’d think was, “Vi would never do that.” Or if someone treated me poorly, I’d find myself muttering, “Vi would never treat me like that.” It wasn’t fair to anyone, but it was like she’d set this impossible standard that no one else could meet.

I’d only see her during winter break when she came home for the holidays. And every time, I’d convince myself that I was over her. I’d spent months trying to push her out of my heart, convincing myself that I was ready to move on, that I’d grown out of the crush. But then she’d walk through the door, her hair tied back, that easy smile on her face, and all those carefully constructed walls I’d built would come crashing down.

The feelings would flood back, twenty times stronger than before. It was like no time had passed, like I was still the same lovesick kid who couldn’t even hold a conversation with her without blurting out the first time that came to mind.

It became a painful loop. I’d spend most of the year trying to heal, trying to forget her, only for everything to unravel the second I saw her again. Seeing her with new eyes—older, more confident, and more out of reach than ever—made it even harder. She’d tell us about college, about her team and the new people she’d met, and I’d smile and nod like I wasn’t aching inside.

Jinx, of course, noticed. She always did. “You’re still hung up on her, aren’t you?” she asked me one night, not unkindly.

I didn’t even bother denying it. “It’s not like I can help it,” I said, shrugging helplessly. “It’s just… her.”

Jinx sighed, shaking her head. “You’re gonna have to let her go someday, you know.”

“I know,” I whispered. But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It was a pattern, a piece of me that I couldn’t seem to shake. No matter how hard I tried to move on, Vi had become this impossible figure in my life—someone who I loved deeply but knew I could never have. And every time she left again for college, I’d start the process all over, trying to forget her, trying to move forward, only to be thrown right back into the same cycle when she came home.

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Senior year was chaotic. Between applying for colleges, writing essays, and preparing for exams, Jinx and I barely had time to hang out. But at least we were both focused on our futures. Amid all the stress, though, something good did happen: a new transfer student arrived at our school in the second trimester. Her name was Ava. She was tall, athletic, and impossibly chatty.

Ava was different, she was the kind of person who could talk to anyone and make them feel at ease. It wasn’t long before the three of us were inseparable, hanging out together whenever we could. By the time we finally had a breather, it was almost Christmas, and things had shifted. Ava and I had started dating. We hadn’t officially gone out on a date yet, but with classes winding down, we finally had the chance to.

But just when things seemed to be falling into place, Vi came home for the holidays. I hadn’t seen her in months, and I’d convinced myself that I was over her, that I had moved on. But the second I walked into her house, I saw her standing there, and all those feelings I thought I’d buried rushed back like a tidal wave.

She was leaning against the doorway, effortlessly cool in a casual outfit, talking to Jinx. She laughed at something Jinx said, and the sound of her laughter hit me like a punch to the gut. I froze, just watching her, telling myself over and over that I was with Ava now, that I was past this. But seeing Vi again made it feel like I hadn’t moved on at all.

She turned and caught my eye, her smile softening as she waved. “Hey, kid,” she said, her voice light and teasing, the same as always.

I waved back, trying to mask the rush of emotions flooding through me. “Hey,” I replied with a smile, turning to Jinx for a distraction. “Are you free to help me with my outfit for my date?” I asked, pretending that everything was normal, even though my heart was doing flips.

Jinx grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Date night, huh? Sure, I’ve got you covered.” She shot a playful glance at Vi before pulling me toward her room.

As I followed Jinx down the hall, I couldn’t help but notice the way Vi’s gaze lingered on me for just a moment too long. Maybe I was imagining it, but part of me wondered if she had noticed my discomfort, my attempt to shield myself from the rush of emotions that still tied me to her.

Once we were safely in Jinx’s room, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to convince myself as much as Jinx.

“You sure about that?” Jinx asked with a knowing smile. “I’ve seen that look before. You’re definitely not fine.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m just… trying to keep it together. I thought I was over her, you know? But the second I saw her again…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jinx said softly, her voice carrying an understanding I hadn’t expected. “Listen, before you get into this relationship with Ava, I think you should talk to Vi. I know you think she’s this impossible person to reach, but you’ve liked her for so long, and you deserve to know where you stand. Give it a shot, at least. You have my blessing, you know.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” I said, pushing the thoughts aside as I pulled a few outfits out of my bag, trying to distract myself with the decision of what to wear for my date.

The night passed in a blur, but on my way home, Jinx’s words echoed in my mind. It wasn’t fair to Ava. I was starting something with her, and yet I couldn’t shake the weight of my feelings for Vi. How could I be with someone when my heart was still stuck in the past? Maybe Jinx was right—maybe I owed it to myself, and to Ava, to talk to Vi and finally face whatever was left unsaid between us.

What did I have to lose? Next year, I’d be moving out and I’d never have to face this awkward tension again. But if I kept pretending, kept pushing my feelings aside, would I ever really be able to move on?

It was hard to ignore the familiar ache in my chest, the one that seemed to tighten every time I thought of Vi. But Jinx was right about one thing: I couldn’t keep dragging Ava into something if I wasn’t emotionally available. It wasn’t fair to her. I needed to know, once and for all, if there was something left between Vi and me.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was running out of time to make that choice. If I didn’t talk to Vi now, I might never get the chance. So, what was stopping me? Fear? The same fear that had held me back all these years?

──────────────────────

I texted Ava, asking if she could come over earlier than we had planned. I had made up my mind—she should be the first person I talked to. If I was going to sort through this mess of emotions, I needed to be honest with her, no matter how hard it felt. As nervous as I was, deep down, I knew that what I was doing was the right thing.

When I heard the soft knock on the door, my heart jumped into my throat. Taking a deep breath, I opened it.

“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Ava stood there, her tall frame filling the doorway, her face puzzled but kind. Her brown eyes searched mine, like she could sense something was off.

“Hey,” she said slowly. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah... well, no,” I admitted, stepping aside to let her in. “Do you wanna come in so we can talk?”

Ava hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping inside. She followed me to the living room, where we sat across from each other on the couch. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice soft but direct.

I swallowed hard, clasping my hands together to keep them from shaking. “Ava, you’ve been nothing but amazing. You’re funny, kind, and so easy to be around. But... I don’t think I’ve been fair to you.”

Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of my words before they left my lips. “When we started talking, I thought I was ready. I thought I was over... someone from my past. But seeing them again recently made me realize that I’m not. And it’s not fair to you to start something when I’m still trying to sort through those feelings.”

Ava’s expression softened, but I could see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. “So... this person, they’re the reason you’ve been hesitant with me?”

I nodded, guilt twisting in my chest. “I didn’t mean to let it get this far without telling you. I really like you, Ava, and I didn’t want to hurt you. But I need to be honest—with you and with myself. I can’t give you what you deserve if I’m still stuck on someone else.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing what I’d said. Then she let out a small, humorless laugh. “Well, at least you’re honest about it. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but I appreciate you telling me now instead of dragging it out.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” she replied, though I could tell it wasn’t. “You’re doing the right thing. And for what it’s worth, I hope you figure it out—whatever it is you need to do. You deserve to be happy too.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, all I could do was nod. We sat there in silence for a little while longer before Ava stood up to leave.

As I walked Ava to the door, she turned back and gave me one last hug. It was warm, yet it carried a bittersweet finality. "Take care of yourself, okay?" she whispered before stepping away.

I stood at the doorway, watching her retreat down the sidewalk, the weight of the conversation still pressing on my chest. But just as Ava disappeared around the corner, I noticed someone else walking toward me.

Vi.

Her flushed cheeks and uneven breathing told me she had been running. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a look in her eyes I couldn’t quite place—somewhere between urgency and worry.

“Am I too late?” she asked, her voice breathless as she approached me.

“Too late for what?” I asked, utterly confused. What was she doing here? Why did she look so distressed?

She paused at the bottom of the steps, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. When she stood upright again, her eyes met mine, and I saw something there I hadn’t seen before. “Yesterday, after you left, I talked to Jinx and my dad...”

Her words hung in the air, unfinished, and I felt my heartbeat quicken.

“Okay... and?” I prompted, unsure where she was going with this but unable to ignore the flicker of hope rising in my chest.

Vi rubbed the back of her neck, her usual confidence faltering. “Jinx told me everything,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “About how you’ve felt... for years.”

My stomach dropped. “She what?”

“She told me,” Vi repeated, taking a tentative step closer. “At first, I didn’t believe her. I mean, how could I? I always thought you just saw me as... Jinx’s annoying older sister.” She let out a nervous laugh. “But the more she talked, the more I realized how blind I’ve been. I guess I just didn’t want to see it.”

I was frozen, my mind spinning. “Vi, I—”

“Wait,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “Let me finish.” She stepped onto the porch, now standing just a few feet away from me. “After I talked to Jinx, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I talked to my dad too, and he basically told me the same thing Jinx did—that I’ve been an idiot for not noticing what was right in front of me.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and I struggled to process them. “Vi, what are you trying to say?”

She took another step closer, her expression softening. “I’m saying that I might’ve been blind before, but I’m not anymore. And if there’s even a chance that I haven’t completely screwed this up... I want to try.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Try what?”

“You and me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you still feel the same way, I want to see where this goes. I know I’ve probably hurt you by being clueless all these years, and I’m sorry for that. But I don’t want to miss this chance. Not anymore.”

I stared at her, my heart racing. This was everything I had ever wanted to hear, but it felt almost too good to be true.

“Vi...” I started, my voice trembling. “You don’t have to say this just because Jinx told you. I don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“I’m not,” she cut me off firmly. “This is me, finally realizing that I’ve been pushing away something—someone—who means more to me than I ever let myself admit. So, what do you say?”

Her eyes searched mine, filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope, and for a moment, all the words I could’ve said vanished from my mind. Talking had never been my strong suit anyway, and I knew there was only one way to show her exactly how I felt.

I took a deep breath, closed the small gap between us, and kissed her.

The world seemed to freeze for a second. Her lips were soft, and the warmth of her touch was more grounding than I ever imagined it could be. For a heartbeat, I worried she might pull away, that maybe I’d misunderstood her words or her intentions. But then, she kissed me back, her hands gently resting on my waist, pulling me closer.

Every emotion I had bottled up for years seemed to pour into that kiss—every moment of longing, every glance I had stolen, every dream I thought would never come true. And now, here she was, holding me as if I’d always belonged there.

When we finally pulled apart, her forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath. She chuckled softly, her voice warm and teasing. “I guess that’s one way to answer.”

I smiled, still too overwhelmed to form a coherent sentence. “Words aren’t really my thing,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“They don’t have to be,” she said, her hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “That was pretty clear.”

──────────────────────

And that’s how I find myself today—married to the love of my life, Vi, with two beautiful daughters who are the perfect mix of chaos and joy. Sometimes, when I look at her across the dinner table or watch her playing basketball with the girls in the driveway, I can’t help but wonder how different things could have been.

If Jinx hadn’t told Vi about my feelings, would I have ever found the courage to tell her myself? Would we have gone our separate ways, lost to time and distance, living entirely different lives? Would destiny have been kind enough to let us meet again later in life? And even if it had, would the outcome have been the same?

I think about it often—how fragile our connection once seemed, teetering on the edge of a confession that might never have come. It’s a reminder of how one brave moment, one nudge in the right direction, can change everything.

Jinx, of course, loves to remind me that she’s the reason for my happiness. “You owe me big time,” she says with a grin every time the story comes up. And honestly, she’s not wrong. If it weren’t for her meddling—or as she calls it, genius matchmaking—I might not be sitting here today, surrounded by the family I never dreamed I could have.

But destiny, as unpredictable and wild as it is, seemed to have a soft spot for us. It gave me the love of my life, someone who challenges me, grounds me, and loves me unconditionally. And while the what-ifs might linger in my mind from time to time, I know one thing for sure: I wouldn’t change a single moment of our journey.

Because every twist, every hesitation, every step forward brought us here—to this messy, beautiful life we’ve built together. And I couldn’t ask for anything more.

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #arcane #vi arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #lily writes

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

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Drive-In Heartbeats

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: In which Dave discovers that being just a friend was never enough.

Warnings: fluffy, pre relationship, first kiss, no use of y/n, a few fun facts, provocative!reader, suggestive

A/N: I could hardly believe my luck in finding a photo in a drive-in with Back to the Future

and thanks to @lilyypotter1234, I've been feeling a bit unmotivated to write and your message helped me, thank you very much <333

Masterlist

The huge screen of the drive-in displayed scenes from Back to the Future. The familiar soundtrack filled the air with nostalgia, but Dave’s focus wasn’t on the movie. He was sitting in the car, that old model he loved, with a front seat that seemed made for moments like this. You were so close that your shoulders and thighs touched, and that was all he could perceive. The sweet smell of chocolate mixed with the aged scent of the upholstery, and every time you rustled the candy bag or let out a soft laugh, his heart raced.

The movie was halfway through, but your conversation hadn’t slowed down. It was easy to be next to him — comfortable, yet with that tension hanging in the air, like something more was always about to happen.

“Did you know the original ending was completely different?” you asked, nibbling on the last piece of chocolate in your hand. Your voice was soft, but carried the excitement typical of someone who loved those little tidbits.

“Different how?” Dave adjusted his glasses and turned his head toward you, his blue eyes sparkling with interest. He always seemed more alive when the topic was something nerdy.

“In the first draft of the script, the 80’s George McFly would grab an old 1955 newspaper with a photo of Marty at the dance. He’d look at his son and be shocked, saying something like ‘This can’t be… this is the...’” You paused dramatically, smiling when you saw Dave completely focused on you. “And then the movie would end right there, without him managing to say the name.”

Dave blinked, the expression torn between fascination and slight indignation. “You’re kidding? That would be so frustrating! Who ends a movie like that? I’d want to blow up the cinema.”

“And you don’t think you’d blow up the cinema with that ending where Doc shows up out of nowhere saying they have to save Marty’s kids?” you teased, leaning a little closer to him.

Dave opened his mouth to respond, but ended up laughing and shaking his head, surrendering. “Okay, you’ve got a point.” He smiled that shy smile that made the air feel lighter — but at the same time, his proximity made the atmosphere warmer, more intense.

You reached out for the candy bag, only to realize it was in Dave’s lap. Before you could say anything, he grabbed a piece of chocolate and held it out for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, but instead of taking it with your hand, you leaned in and opened your mouth, hoping he’d understand. Dave froze immediately, as if his brain was trying to process the gesture.

“Wait, you... want me to—?” He didn’t finish the sentence, his voice coming out quieter than usual.

“Uh-huh,” you responded, tilting your head slightly and keeping your gaze fixed on him, amused by the way his ears turned red.

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in slowly and placing the chocolate on your lips. But before he could pull his hand back, you lightly closed your lips around his finger, biting it gently and deliberately.

Dave made an indistinct sound, somewhere between a nervous laugh and a surprised sigh. “Did you... just bite my finger?” He blinked, clearly unsure what to do with the moment.

“It was an accident,” you lied shamelessly, the corner of your lips pulling into a mischievous smile.

He kept staring at you, his eyebrows slightly raised behind his glasses. His eyes were locked on yours, as if trying to decipher your intentions, but the heat building between you both said everything.

“You do that on purpose,” he whispered finally, his voice barely audible. He looked away for a second, as if trying to regain control of the situation, but the parted lips and the nervous movement of his fingers gave him away.

“Do what?” you asked, leaning in just enough for your knees to touch his.

Dave looked down, at the almost nonexistent space between you, then back up to your eyes. He was so close you could count his eyelashes, and there was something in his expression that felt more intense than ever. The slight tremor in his breath was impossible to ignore.

“You have... chocolate here,” he said finally, his voice hoarse and low, as if the words were struggling to come out. He pointed to the corner of your lips, but his hand lingered in the air for a moment, unsure if he should move.

You tilted your head slightly, the smile on your face barely hiding the provocation. “Here, where?”

Dave seemed to be fighting with himself internally, but then, as if summoning sudden courage, he leaned in even closer. His hand moved slowly, hesitantly, and his fingers touched the corner of your mouth gently, wiping away the chocolate residue.

The gesture lasted only a second, but it was enough to ignite the air between you. The touch was soft, but the intensity in his gaze while doing it was almost overwhelming. He tried to pull his hand away quickly, but you held his wrist, stopping him from going too far.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice low and heavy with something you knew he understood perfectly. His thumb still brushed your skin, almost involuntarily, and his fingers remained where they were, creating an undeniable connection.

Dave opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. His eyes were locked on yours, as if searching for something — or perhaps waiting for a sign. The silence was as thick as the tension between you, and the movie continued in the background, completely ignored.

You let go of his wrist, but didn’t move your hand. Dave hesitated for another moment before moving again. His thumb slid slowly, almost reluctantly, across the corner of your lips, as if he wanted to be sure there was no more chocolate left. But his gaze said the gesture meant much more.

“All set,” he said, but the word sounded strangled, almost as if he had to force it out.

“Are you sure?” you asked, leaning in just a bit more, your voice soft but carrying that challenging tone.

“I... think so,” he answered, almost in a whisper, his eyes dropping quickly to your mouth before returning to yours.

The space between you was so small now that just one move would bring you together. Dave seemed to be holding his breath, and the way he pressed his hands against his lap showed just how hard he was fighting something. But the way he looked at you — like it was impossible to look away — betrayed that he was holding on by a thread.

You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “It’s okay, Dave. No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” he immediately retorted, but the blush creeping up his cheeks and ears told a different story.

“Oh, really?” you teased, your fingers moving to lightly touch his arm, sliding along the sleeve of his sweatshirt almost absentmindedly.

Dave chuckled softly, but didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, as if trying to gather the courage to do or say something. When you stopped touching his arm, his fingers moved almost reflexively, gently resting on yours, as if he wanted to keep the contact.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he murmured, his eyes still locked on yours. There was a desperate tone in his voice, but at the same time, he seemed completely fascinated.

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning in just enough for your faces to be inches apart. “And you?”

Dave blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could do was stare at you, his blue eyes shining with something between desire and doubt. It was as if he were frozen, his thoughts racing at high speed as he struggled to find something to say.

You could feel his breath, short and almost shaky, mingling with yours. Dave’s eyes didn’t stray for even a second, and the way he was so focused on you made it feel like the rest of the world didn’t exist. His chest rose and fell, the nervousness evident in every little movement.

You broke the silence. Your voice came out softly, almost as if the words had slipped out before you could stop them.

“I know we’re just friends...” you started, the phrase hanging in the air for a moment, as if you wanted to make sure he was listening. “But I would kiss you if you asked.”

His reaction was immediate. Dave blinked quickly, as if shocked, and his parted lips froze. He seemed like he wanted to respond, but the words were stuck in his throat. You saw his hands move slightly, as if he were about to do something, but he froze, his gaze becoming even more intense.

“Are you... serious?” he finally managed to ask, his voice hoarse and hesitant. He tilted his head slightly, as if needing to confirm that he had heard right.

You shrugged, a soft, teasing smile playing on your lips. “Looks like you’ll have to find out.”

Dave’s eyes briefly dropped to your mouth before returning to yours, and the way he bit his lower lip made your heart race. He seemed torn, as if fighting against the barrier that had existed between you — the barrier that until now was the certainty that you were just friends.

“I…” he began, but stopped, his fingers absently tracing the steering wheel as if he needed something to hold onto. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I do.” Your voice was firm, but there was a sweetness in the way you spoke, an attempt to reassure him. You leaned in a little closer, enough for your knees to press against his again, and gently placed your hand over his.

Dave held his breath at the touch, and his eyes fixed on your hand for a moment before looking back at you. “I... I don’t want to ruin anything,” he murmured, but the hesitation in his voice revealed that he was on the verge of giving in.

You smiled, a small, confident smile, but there was something vulnerable in it too. “What if it doesn’t ruin anything? What if it’s exactly what needed to happen?”

Dave seemed incapable of processing what you were saying. He was so close now that it would take just a move from you to close the distance between you. And as he stared at you, as if trying to decide what to do, you saw determination slowly rising on his face.

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, almost in a whisper, the words laden with sincerity and something deeper.

The silence between you was louder than any sound around you. It felt as if the entire world had stopped at that moment, waiting to see what the next step would be. You could feel the tension growing with each passing second, and the proximity was so electrifying that it made your skin tingle.

“Then kiss me, Dave,” you murmured, your eyes locked with his, not looking away. “Unless you prefer me to take the lead.”

He laughed softly, nervously, but there was something more in the laugh. Something that showed he was finally giving in. “You’re impossible,” he said, his voice low, but full of affection.

And then he leaned in, hesitant at first, as if checking if it was really allowed, but the hesitation lasted only a moment. When his lips finally met yours, the touch was gentle, almost shy, but quickly became something more intense, more sincere, as if he were pouring everything he had kept inside for so long into the kiss.

The world around you disappeared completely. All that existed was the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers found their way to the back of your neck, holding you as if afraid you might disappear. And when you leaned in even closer, deepening the kiss, it was as if something had finally clicked into place.

When you separated, breathless, Dave’s eyes still shone with that mixture of nervousness and euphoria. He laughed softly, but it was an uncertain sound, as if he were still trying to process what had just happened. Resting his forehead against yours for a moment, he whispered, almost out of breath:

“So... friends?”

The hesitation in his voice was evident. It was as if he were trying to gauge the situation, figure out how far he could go without crossing an invisible line he didn’t even know existed. His fingers, still resting on your neck, traced a small, nervous circle, as if even without realizing it, he was seeking something to hold on to.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes fixed on his, and raised an eyebrow with a small smile on your lips. The kind of smile that could either reassure him or make him even more anxious.

“Is that what you want?” you asked, your voice low and carrying something that made his breath hitch for a second.

Dave blinked, surprised by your direct question. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, he seemed unsure of what to say. But then you saw something change. Doubt gave way to quiet determination, as if he were finally willing to be honest with himself and with you.

“No.” The word slipped out before he could hold it back, but he didn’t retreat. On the contrary, he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “No, that’s not what I want.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you let his words hang between you, feeling the weight of them. The silence that followed was almost palpable, but not uncomfortable. It was full of possibilities, full of what you both knew was coming.

“Then what do you want, Dave?” you murmured, leaning in a little more, enough for your lips to almost touch his again.

He swallowed hard, his gaze briefly dropping to your mouth before returning to your eyes. “I want you,” he finally said, his voice coming out as a whisper, but filled with so much sincerity that it seemed to echo in the small space of the car.

His confession made your heart race, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. He seemed so vulnerable, but at the same time so sure, as if he had just laid all his cards on the table.

“And you’ve got me,” you replied, the softness in your voice contrasting with the intensity of the moment.

His eyes softened, but the desire still shone in them. As if to test the waters, he moved the hand that had been on your neck, tracing a slow path to your cheek. His touch was so careful it almost seemed reverent, but there was something in his fingers — a slight tremble, perhaps? — that showed just how much he was feeling.

“I think I’ve always wanted this,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“And why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, your voice coming out softer than you meant.

He laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Because I thought you’d never see me like this. I mean, look at you...” He stopped, the sentence unfinished, but the look in his eyes said it all.

“And look at you,” you shot back, a smile forming as you leaned even closer. “I think you underestimated how much I see you, Dave.”

He seemed stunned, but before he could say anything, you took the initiative this time. Your lips met his again, and the kiss was anything but hesitant. It was as if all the nervousness, all the doubt, had disappeared. The intensity was palpable, and the way he responded to the kiss, his hands firmly on your waist, showed that he too was determined not to hold anything back anymore.

When you finally pulled apart again, breathless and even closer, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore,” he admitted, almost like a confession, but with the firmness of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

“Good,” you replied, a soft but teasing smile on your lips, “because I don’t want to be just your friend anymore either.”

Dave laughed, the tension easing a little, but there was still an electricity in the air. He gently ran his thumb along the line of your jaw, the touch so soft it almost felt like a whisper.

“Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want now?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and genuine hope.

“It means you should,” you replied, leaning in again, leaving no room for doubt.

The kiss that followed was even slower, deeper, as if each movement was a silent promise. Dave seemed to lose any trace of hesitation, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you firmly but still with that care that seemed to be so characteristic of him. The car, small and cramped, became a space where you needed nothing else but each other.

The sound of the movie continued in the background, but you both no longer paid attention. It was almost comical that Back to the Future was playing in front of you while you were creating a new moment, one that no one but the two of you could witness.

“I can’t believe we paid for this just to ignore the movie,” you murmured against his lips, your voice full of provocation.

He laughed, his forehead still resting against yours, as his fingers slid along your back in distracted touches, but ones that sent shocks through your skin. “I think I’ve never been more grateful for not paying attention to something,” he replied, with a smile that lit up his blue eyes.

You smiled, running your hands along his shoulders, your fingers tracing the outline of the collar of the t-shirt he was wearing. “And you don’t want to watch it after all?”

“Not even a little,” he answered immediately, leaning in to kiss you again, more briefly this time, but still enough to leave no doubt. “I prefer this.”

The heat building between you made the space even tighter, more intimate. He shifted a little, adjusting so you could be even closer, his arm slipping behind you, while your head rested on his shoulder. It was almost ridiculous how natural it felt to be this way, as if you belonged to each other and hadn’t realized it until now.

You looked at him, your faces so close that it was impossible not to notice the rosy tint on his cheeks, the shine in his eyes that said more than any words could. And when he spoke again, his voice was so soft it seemed like a secret.

“I don’t know how it took me so long to figure this out. You... are everything.”

The intensity of the sentence made your chest tighten in a good way, as if something had finally clicked into place. You didn’t need to respond immediately, because his hands were holding yours now, fingers intertwined as if he wanted to make sure you were there, that this was real.

“Dave,” you whispered, the word heavy with emotion, “if this means we’ll have more nights like this... then please, keep taking so long to figure things out.”

He laughed, a soft, carefree sound, before leaning in to kiss you again.

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loafysainz · 2 days ago

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the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap 6, chap 7, chap 8

PART 7 A DAY WITH MOM

The phone rang sharply, breaking the calm. Y/N sighed dramatically, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, who could it be now? I told everyone not to bother me today,” she muttered, heading toward the ringing phone.

Matheo, perched on the edge of the sofa, watched her walk away before letting his curiosity take over. He wandered around the living room, his eyes lighting up at every detail. The walls were lined with photographs of dazzling events, one from the Paris Fashion Week, another from a glamorous runway show. Next to those were sketches pinned carefully, showcasing elegant dresses, bold hats, and intricate designs.

On a small side table, Matheo found a delicate glass figurine. He picked it up gingerly, tilting it in the sunlight and grinning as the light broke into tiny rainbows.

“Mattia, sweetheart,” his mom called from across the room, holding the phone in one hand. She looked amused. “Would you mind coming with me to the workshop? Apparently, there’s a little fashion emergency.” Mattia couldn't have been happier.

****

Y/N, his mother, was so funny and sweet. How could he not have had the chance to be with her? They passed by a very beautiful shop and the first thing Matheo saw in the window was a beautiful white dress full of shiny rhinestones and white gold details. When he looked up from the window he was surprised by the illuminated sign that adorned the wall “Y/N Y/LN”

Matheo tugged on his Mom’s sleeve, unable to contain his excitement. “Did you design that, Mom?”

Y/N turned, her usual amused smile spreading across his face. “Well, I had to do something while you were away at camp, baby.” she winked, making it sound like crafting the gown was as casual as making toast.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Matheo said, Y/N laughed softly “Thanks, little man. But tell me, did you try designing anything while you were at camp?”

“I wanted to,” Matheo admitted, “but there was just so much going on. I barely had time to think!”

Y/N nodded, understanding as always. “Ah, at your age, I was the same. Always running around.”

Matheo smiled at his mother's understanding. His mother pulled him to go inside the boutique, but Matheo resisted her hand, smiling mischievously at his reflection in the mirror. His mother, who stood close by with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, couldn't help but giggle at his act. “You know who would look really beautiful in this dress?” he said, tilting her head dramatically.

“Who?” Y/N asked, playing along, even though she already knew where this was going.

“You,” Matheo said with a victorious smile, turning to face her. “Me?” Y/N asked, pretending to be surprised.

“Yup! Really, really beautiful,” he said, his big brown eyes twinkling with sincerity.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “I guess the time change has left you a little loopy.”

Matheo just shrugged, still clutching the dress. “Maybe. But I'm still right.”

****

The workshop was alive with movement, fabric swatches, and the hum of sewing machines. Models strutted back and forth in stunning outfits, while designers fussed over last-minute details.

Y/N immediately took charge, shrugging off his jacket with flair. “Alright, what’s going on here? Interrupting my time with my baby better be worth it!”

A woman with sleek brown hair appeared, flanked by two models. Her eyes sparkled when she spotted me. “Mattia! Look at you so grown up and handsome. Where did you get all this charm?”

Y/N rolled his eyes. “You can look at me, Kimi.”

Matheo couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. The energy in the room was infectious. Matheo watched his Mom gave directions, adjusting veils, critiquing hems, and encouraging her team. “Remember,” she said, her voice commanding yet warm, “every piece is a work of art. Tonight isn’t just about my designs, it’s about ours.”

As Matheo stood there, taking it all in, he realized something. Y/N wasn’t just a fashion designer, she was a storyteller, crafting magic with every thread.

“Mom, you’re amazing,” Matheo blurted out, his cheeks heating up when he realized he said it out loud.

Y/N turned to her son, her eyes softening. “It’s in your blood, baby.”

*****

As they walked through the shopping center, Mom ordered some tea for the road. Matheo knew this was his moment. “Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Mattia. What’s on your mind?”

Matheo took a deep breath. “Did you ever want to get married again?”

Y/N nearly choked on her tea, her eyes wide with surprise. “What kind of question is that, Mattia?”

“I’m just curious,” Matheo said, trying to sound casual. “You never really talk about it or about the D word.”

Y/N smile faltered slightly as she set her tea down. “The D-word?” she echoed. “Baby, what on earth do you mean?”

“You know,” Matheo said, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Dad.”

For a brief second, Y/N was caught off guard and nearly laughed. “Oh,” she said, composing herself. “That D-word.”

“Yes!” Matheo straightened, crossing his arms like a pint-sized detective. “Why don’t we ever talk about him? Was he a bad person or something”

She exhaled softly, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. “No, not a bad person. Let’s just say… he was complicated.”

Matheo tilted his head, his curiosity growing. “Complicated? Like a crossword puzzle? Did you like him at least?”

A faint smile tugged at Y/N lips as she looked back at her son. “Oh, I liked him very much. When I first met him, he was the most charming man I’d ever seen.”

His eyes widened with excitement. “Really? Where did you meet him?”

Y/N chuckled. “As a matter of fact, yes. It was on a cruise, years ago. Your grandpa had just surprised me with tickets to celebrate my graduation. The route was from London to Spain. And there he was… a handsome Spaniard with a smile that could light up the ocean.”

“Wow,” Matheo whispered, enchanted by the story. “Was it love at first sight?”

Y/N laughed, ruffling Matheo hair. “You’re as nosy as I was at your age. Come on, let’s head home. I think Grandpa’s waiting for us.”

As they walked back, Matheo heart swelled with excitement. Matheo think he was probably working on his plan. And if everything went right, he’d finally bring their family back together.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 fluff #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 hours ago

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Always the bridesmaid never the bride

I'm not going to lie. I forgot if this was a prompt or a response to something I posted since I got it back before Thanksgiving. But if it's the former then:

Danny says this to Bruce at Clark and Lois' wedding. He is convinced Bruce is in love- or in lust, at the least- with Clark because the wealthy man constantly popped up at their office for important "business" and "private exclusive" interviews.

Now, Danny won't lie and say he's a better journalist than Clark or Lois- those two are the top two of the Daily Planet. There is a reason almost all Superman stories are covered by them- but he's darn good himself. After retiring from protecting his town from Ghosts, he's only ever used his powers scarcely, but they have helped him with a few articles here or there.

His career as a reporting journalist was mainly made by his ability to stumble across trouble alone! Danny had won awards for his articles. He has been included in a city time capsule project.

Danny got the scoop on Jason Todd being alive story way before everyone else. After realizing the boy was in witness protection, he hadn't even exposed it without speaking to Mr.Wayne first. The man was nothing like the tabloids had one believe. Danny found him a severely intelligent man with a deep love for his family and city. He just distracted people with his razzle and dazzle, hiding his beautiful soul in plain sight.

It had been an eye-opening conversation. The duo made a deal to wait until Jason was safe to be announced; Danny waited three whole months before he was greenlighted to release his story. Jason Todd had officially "returned" from the dead with an exclusive interview with Danny Fenton.

Danny honored and protected his dignity by writing a story that made the public love the returned young man. He hated reporters who only dragged people's names through the mud because that wasn't real investigation; that was just accepting the latest gossip on the streets.

Bruce was so grateful that Danny hadn't put his son in danger that he even gave Danny a business card that went to his home office!

And yeah, okay, Clark had Bruce's personal cellphone, but Danny just couldn't understand why the billionaire was so hung up on Clark Kent. It wasn't like the guy was Superman!

And maybe he was overly happy to find out Clark and Lois were an item. Sure that someone as good as Bruce, for all his facade of being a party boy who never grew up, would never chase a taken man. Danny had been right, too, because Bruce Wayne appeared less and less around the Daily Plant office.

It was.....sad not to see him, but Danny was a very busy journalist. He was grateful that the distraction had finally taken the hint and scurried off somewhere. What irked him in the following year and a half of Clark and Lois dating was how often Perry signed the two to cover Gotham News.

Mostly at one of Bruce Wayne's extravagant parties! Yeah, it was sort of cool that most of Bruce's parties were charity events. He had checked the numbers himself, finding that Bruce's efforts were honest and working to better his city. How many billionaires actually kept their word when wanting to be a philanthropist?

Of course, Danny had to write a piece on it. The people needed to see the positive change Bruce was making. Sometimes, it felt like people forgot how much he gave to the city. The article went viral, and people on the other side of the world were praising the good man Bruce.

Perry had given Danny a raise for it.

Clark had ruined that significant mark on his record by placing a wrap present on his desk with a wide grin. Apparently, the two had gone on a yacht trip together without Lois or Bruce's significant other. Whoever that was. "Bruce wanted me to give you this as a thanks."

Ugh, the smug asshole was just rubbing it in Danny's face that he was still friends with his ex. The present had been a shitty ship in a bottle that Danny had placed beside his writing awards in his living room. You know it would be a waste to just throw it out.

Or let it get dusty. Or not stare at and wonder if Bruce knew he liked pirate movies, so the fact he had a model replica of Captain Jack Sparrow's Black Pearl made for Danny was really no big deal.

Then Bruce came by the office after buying out the Daily Planet, giving Clark a month's vacation paid due to some "family emergency."

Danny had been worried about Ma Kent and Pa Kent- the pair had visited the Daily Planet and were the nicest people to ever walk the planet- so like the well-mannered man his mother raised, he had gone to the farm with some of his Dad's famous fudge. Only to find the Kents unaware there was an emergency in the family until Danny reminded them.

He had been a journalist long enough to call bull on their meaningful glances. Danny knew that neither Bruce nor Clark would dare cheat on Lois. They were both too good for something as sleazy as that- and honestly, Lois would kill them- but that didn't stop Bruce from obviously still carrying around a torch for Clark.

Which meant he gave him unfairly favorable treatment in the workplace. Ugh! Perry didn't even seem to care, stating that Bruce had signed their paychecks, and as long as he wasn't forcing Clark into anything harassment-worthy, Danny just had to deal with his coworkers having friends in high places.

That meant they got away with different things. He just had to suck it up and accept it.

But now, Clark and Lois tied the knot. Bruce had to back off. He would never overstep a friend's relationship like this. Danny might have seen him sneak a few glances at the dancing couple- not that he was staring at Bruce Wayne! But the man was one of the hottest topics to write about, and he never knew when a good story would pop up.

It was rather sad, really. How Bruce forced himself to come to a celebration of the man he loved marrying and choosing someone else. Danny had dedicated a drink to his heartbreak- from clear across the room.

He wasn't on a personal cellphone number basis with Bruce Wayne, let's allow a "Drink your broken heart sorrow away with me" basis. And maybe Danny had a few too many. Perhaps he lost count after realizing it was an open bar because, surprise surprise, Bruce was footing the drink bill for all guests.

Danny doesn't remember what made him think he could cross the room to Bruce or why he found the courage to point a finger in his face before slurring, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh Brucie?"

He does remember those piecing blue eyes locking him in place, brow folding in concern as Bruce replied. "Mr. Fenton, are you alright?"

"Me? Oh yeah! Just enjoying the party." He throws his arm up, spilling some of the alcohol out of the cup. He doesn't mind since the DJ starts to play one of his favorite songs, and he just has to sway to the beat. "This is a fun party. Are you having fun? I'm having fun!"

"I think you've had a little too much," Bruce says, helping Danny to his feet. When did he fall? Oh, right, when he was dancing. He laughs again, curling up on Bruce's chest. He feels it shift with the vibrations of the other man's voice. It's rather nice. "Did you come alone? Is there someone I can call for you?"

"Can I tell you a secret, Brucie?" Danny mutters, leaning forward to whisper into the man's ear before he can respond. "I live alone. I have no one to take care of me. I can't even drive."

"I see. I can have my driver take you home then. Can I see your wallet? I want to read the address-"

Danny has a second to think Oh no before his stomach lurches, and vomit falls out of his mouth all over Bruce Wayne's fancy suit that probably costs more than his house. Danny's eyes water. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't usually drink, and I feel terrible, and I-"

"It's alright. " Bruce says, smile still perfectly kind, understanding, and slightly dizzy. Danny knows he's lying, though- his reporter eyes can see right through that facade. He's pissed that Danny threw up on him. Understandably.

He starts sobbing, apologizing even more, and pointing out how he knows Bruce is actually upset.

Bruce looks mildly surprised before throwing one of his arms over his shoulder and helping him out of the hotel ballroom. The reception had started hours ago, and despite it not being anywhere near over, no one would bat an eye at them leaving early.

They were walking down the hallway. Danny found himself leaning on a counter, laughing into his hands about a potted plant, while Bruce chatted up the lady at a computer. He told the pair that Bruce should rebound with a man instead of a woman if he wanted to get over Clark but was ignored by them.

Rude.

Then suddenly, Danny was being pressed into a soft mattress on his back while someone was taking off his shoes and losing his tie. When did he get home? How had he moved that quickly?

This didn't feel like his pillow. Danny has a special one. He can't sleep with it. He packs his pillow when he travels, even if it's just one night he plans to stay. Danny has used the same pillow for years now.

"I'm sorry, I can't get your special pillow, but I can give you lots of water." A man says, making Danny blink and open his eyes. His eyelids feel so heavy that it takes him a moment to stay open.

Above him, Bruce is carefully unbuttoning his suit jacket. The billionaire had removed his own coat, but the vomit-covered white shirt remains. Danny feels ashamed at the sight even as Bruce pulls his arms out of the jacket sleeves.

"Sorry," He whimpers. "About the vomit."

"It's alright. You needed to throw up. Do you feel better?"

Danny nods, closing his eyes and feeling a warm towel run along his face. He sighed as the sticky, gross feeling around his mouth was gone, and he sank further into the Not Right But Comfty pillow.

"Sleep well, Mr. Fenton," Bruce says, tucking the blankets around Danny once he finishes cleaning him up. Danny hums, already half gone, when he whispers.

"You're a good man. No matter what you present to the world. No matter if you believe you're not, I know you're good."

There is a moment of silence before Bruce replies. "I paid for the hotel room. It comes with a free breakfast, so when you're feeling up to it, come down for food tomorrow. Have a good night, Mr. Fenton."

"Stay?"

"I'm sorry. I never intended to stay; I just wanted to get you somewhere safe. Going home in your state would have been a bad idea."

Danny's words are nearly too slurried to be understood as he slowly slips away: "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, Fenton. Bruce would never want you."

He wakes up with a killer hangover, confused about where the hell he is, and almost has a heart attack when he realizes he crumpled up the suit pants he rented. All that is so hard to process in thirty seconds that he nearly missed the written note on the nightstand.

Call me xxx-xxx-xxxx

XOXO

Bruce Wayne

What in the world happened at Clark's and Lois's wedding!?

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Never the Bride #Part 1 #spirt halloween ship #Danny is a reporter at the Daily Planet #Develops a crush on a celeberity he interviewed #Bruce never paid attention to Clark's coworker #Until the wedding #Now he can't stop thinking about him #misunderstandings #Bruce and Clark were just doing JL stuff #TW: Blackout Drinking

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sungiescheotluv · 1 day ago

Text

am i the asshole? ⭑.ᐟ lee jeno

pairing: lee jeno x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.1k

tags/warnings: fluff, meet not-so-cute turned cute, (excessive) swearing, crack (if you squint - or read any of my fics really 😭)

summary: things are looking up for you - a promotion at work propels you into a new, more extravagant apartment that has all you need and more. too bad you forget to look down.

notes: hi hi, i'm back with a new fic! it's been really fun to crank out all these fics in such a short amount of time :) i usually spend a stupid amount of hours mulling over word choice and reading too much into things, which i've tried to abandon with this blog and just write whatever inspires me and makes me laugh honestly. i'm not sure if this is funny for you guys, but i enjoyed the care-free time i had writing this and hope you enjoy it the same reading it! wishing you all the best and thank you, THANK YOU for all the love on my pics! it means so so much to me 🥹💗

also, this fic wouldn't exist this prompt list from @corvase so big big thank you to them! much love! <3

If there is one word to describe Jeno, it’s doting.

Ever since the moment you two met, you’ve been living a life of luxury. Not necessarily in terms of monetary means (except for the very pretty promise ring Jeno got you a few months back), but in more valuable, sentimental places. Someone by your side that treasures the ground you walk on, someone that makes the effort whoever big or small, someone who’s totally and utterly obsessed with you. For so long, you thought you had your head in the clouds, imagining such a love as an abstract, fictional thing. Like it could never materialise beyond the limits of your mind and yet, there it is. Three years ago, the love you’d wished for on many stars, many birthday candles - right in front of you.

You meet in a rather…unconventional way. Nothing shady or anything, but it’s a bit of a blunder in comparison with the wholesomeness of your relationship. You’d just moved into your new apartment building, your new promotion uplifting you as the future brims bright. You’d seen it in person before getting the keys and your jaw dropped every time. Admittedly, the office assisted with most of the expenses to keep you in close vicinity of the main building, explaining the lavish skyscraper of a building. Marble floors, polished elevators, key-pad locks. To you, someone who didn’t come from much, this was the high life. A merit your family let you know you deserved for all your efforts over the years, whether it was in academic ventures or familial affairs. Either way, as you are driving through the front gate, the security guard tipping his hat at you, you’re beaming with glee - nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could ruin your day.

Except this.

For someone so accommodating, you lacked understanding (and patience) for what you, in a flare of anger, called ‘stupidity.’ Unfortunately for you, this is one of those moments. Pulling up to your assigned parking space (underground, might you add), your eyebrows furrow at the sight before you. There’s a car in front of you making an awkward turn, almost as if they don’t know where they’re going. Maybe they’re new like you, you reason. Your understanding drains from there, as the car goes back and forth, turning its wheels and frankly, looking like a hot mess. You try not to be an asshole, because drivers deserve some grace, especially Learners judging by the large ‘L’ on the back of their car, but just as you’re about to offer some help, you squeal.

The learner attempts to manoeuvre out the tight space it’s wedged itself into, having to reverse generously due to the sheer size of the car and in doing so, it nearly rear-ends you. If you hadn’t had the sense to put more distance between the two of you, the front of your car would’ve been mangled. This time, you honk, a slam of the hand on the steering wheel as you yell, “The fuck are you doing!”

The driver offers an apologetic hand out their window, somehow managing to squeeze into the parking spot they’d been trying very hard to get into. As grateful as you are for the stupid ordeal to be over, a pout forms on your lips as you squint at the parking spot the driver’s parked into.

Your parking spot.

You’re out of your car before your brain registers, the slam of the car door accompanying the echo of your loud voice as you say, “That’s my parking space.”

The driver hoops out of their car, a large grey hoodie shrouding their face as they step into view. Under the fluorescent lights of the barren car park, the stranger reveals their face, shadows enveloping the sharp edges of his high cheekbones and jawline. You nearly lurch back, because what the hell? Why is the driver you’d nearly had an aneurysm over unbelievably hot? Handsome? Cute?

At this point, you’d throw a whole dictionary full of words to describe how attractive he is, his pink lips folding into an apologetic grin, bowing to you deeply. “Is your car ok? I’m so sorry. It’s my first time driving this big ole thing - it’s the only car I could fit all my belongings in.”

Then, you see it. Items, belongings cluttering the pick-up truck, and if you really look, you’re pretty sure a pillow’s obstructing his sight from his rearview mirror.

You exhale, a wave of sympathy drowning the fires of your annoyance. “It's fine, thanks. Just a word of advice, you shouldn’t be driving with something blocking your rearview mirror.”

Why did you have to tell him this? If he's a learner, surely he 1) knew this and 2) had someone in the car with him.

Just then, the passenger front seat opens, another figure in an oversized black hoodie coming round the vehicle. Were they-?

“Jeno, you forgot your dog treats in the-” the passenger cuts themselves off at your presence, lowering their hood to reveal another handsome face. What is this? A traveling circus of hotties? How many more were hidden in there? “Oh, hottie alert.”

Instantly no.

In the face of a man also sculpted by the Gods, with his big brown eyes and irresistible smile, you scowl. Maybe even vomit a little in your mouth because did he just say ‘hottie alert’ about you…in front of you?

Nevermind you calling him that first.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” the stranger - Jeno, you’re assuming - looks even more embarrassed, shuffling to shield the glaring ogling his friend does. “He’s got no filter. No sense either, now that I think about it.”

“Since when did the samoyed become the owner?” you make out his friend say, in a headlock that he forces himself out of with a bite through Jeno’s sleeve.

Samoyed? Owner?

The longer you watch their bickering, the more confused and honestly, more annoyed you grow. A promotion and new apartment, what is meant to be an upgrade from your previously cramped but friendly neighbourhood, only to find yourself caught in the middle of a quarrel. With some themes of petplay, too, you weren’t sure.

All you know is that you’ve got a long day ahead of you, and they’re prolonging it by snatching your parking space.

“Sorry to interrupt but,” their heads turn at the sound of your voice, having the decency to look embarrassed as you continue. “You’re parked in my space. I’m D7. So, in case there’s been a mix-up-”

“Thing is, sweetpie,” Jeno’s friend addresses you, the latter hanging his head in shame. “Unfortunately, someone’s parked in our sweet Jeno’s place. We’re on a bit of a tight schedule, and your space was the only one avail-”

A car honk makes you jump, your head on a swivel, mortified to find a car behind yours, luckily trying to exit the underground space.

Now you look like the asshole.

You huff, exhausted already. “I’m gonna let this car through, and we’re going to solve this, alright?”

They both nod, the enthusiasm that Jeno nods with earning a fond smile from his friend, Jeno’s sleazy partner ruffling his head of long black hair.

In the end, when you’ve circled back, the person parked in Jeno’s space comes out and profusely apologizes for the inconvenience, citing an emergency they had to take care of and since Jeno’s space was free and close to the building, they snagged it. So, you get your parking space back, a small victory. Jeno’s friend, who notices you’re moving in too - Jaemin is his name - offers his help, to which you politely deny, catching the pure apologetic nature in Jeno’s shiny eyes.

Minor blunder. A small thing in the grand scheme of things, nothing worth losing your mind over.

Except when you’ve managed to heave your first few belongings to your apartment, the door next to yours opens, Jaemin’s bright smile greeting you as he says, “Oh, I’m definitely coming over to yours more often.”

So, yeah. Not that romantic - your first meeting.

Heck, even your second and third meeting isn’t too great because on one exceptional morning where you’re running late, you collide into Jeno on your way out, your possessions and fingernail flying in the air. You’re lucky your nail-bed remains unscathed, but not so lucky the days following that when you’re walking in the open courtyard of your apartment building, out for some fresh air, time to decompress for the mounting work you’re quickly submerging in.

You’ve got your headphones on, noise-cancelling ones you got for Christmas - how nice. What isn’t nice is that you miss the yell behind you, and the strange texture you step onto. Your body freezes, nose twitching from a foul smell that wafts upwards and when you gaze down to your shoe, you find the worst. The absolute worst.

Shit. Huge, putrid clumps of shit.

It’s so shocking that you slip your headphone off down to your neck, deciding between screaming or crying. Your decision is cut off by a familiar voice, yet again so apologetic.

“I forgot her bags upstairs. I didn’t think anyone would…” Jeno cuts himself off, eyebrows pinched together like he may cry. “Can I-can I do anything for you? Wash your shoe? Scream? Disappear into oblivion?”

“All of the above.”

He chuckles, the furry friend he’s accompanied by nudging their wet snout against your hand, smiling at you like there are no thoughts behind their eyes. Your eyes flicker between the dog and Jeno, the white samoyed eerily similar to his owner.

Was this what Jaemin was referring to when you first met?

“Don’t worry about her, she’s harmless,” he comments, the ghost of a grin appearing against his face. “Except when she takes a dump.”

You have to laugh. Otherwise you’ll cry. “Too soon?”

“No, no - I needed that actually,” you sigh after your fit of chuckles. “Today’s been…well, shit.”

“You don’t say,” Jeno muses, handing over the leash his dog is on. “Do you mind?”

You take it without a word, securing his furry friend as he slips off one of his shoes, bending down near the scene of the crime. Without a peep, he cleans around as best as he can, undoing your shoe and casting it aside, slipping his one on your foot.

“Well, I can’t scream because it’s non social hours,” he leads, wrapping your shoe in one of the bags. “And as much as I’d love to disappear into oblivion, I’ve got a shoe to wash.”

He then hesitates, parts his lips like he wants to say something. There’s something adorable about his loss for words, how his gaze is downturned, flicking side to side in indecision. God, all these awful run-ins robbed you of remembering how cute he is.

“Did you want to come back to mine?” he finally asks, meeting your eyes. “So, we don’t have to drop each other’s shoes off like some fairytale.”

“It is almost midnight,” your quick wit earns a chuckle from him, eyes moon crescent and you can’t believe your own. How tragically pitiful and handsome he is. “Why not? I’ve got no ball to be at.”

So, instead of spending your night wallowing in the darkness of your apartment, you’re next door, laughing at the failed attempts of Jaemin’s ‘flirting’ Jeno tells you with his samoyed, Ari, cuddled into your side. Once your shoe dries, that’s when you say you’ll leave - what you infamously tell yourself, picking up the bone-dry shoe hours later, belly full of Jeno’s special bowl of noodles and heart full of infatuation for your neighbour.

Again, not so romantic. But your following run-ins prove to be a turning point, the close relationship you develop unveiling a world of romance you thought were reserved only for movies and books. Somewhere along the line, your elevator talks stretch into rambling dinner dates, rotating between your place and his depending on the meal since Ari once stole a whole steak off your plate once. You take Ari on your nightly walks Jeno accompanies you for, you meet his friends and he meets yours. You make space for each other, carving out time to spend binging the latest season of your favourite dating show or over a bowl of kimchi stew you reward him with for getting the spider out your apartment.

It’s like your puzzle pieces come together, initially ill-matched but now, the perfect fit for one another. And even if Jaemin jokes you were a bit ‘rough around the edges’ (code for an asshole) when you’d first met, Jeno kisses the denial out of you, making sure you know how much better his (and Ari’s) life is with you in it.

#lee jeno #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct jeno #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream fic #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno x you #lee jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno fluff #sungiescheotluv fics ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱

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anemoiashifts · 3 days ago

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ways to deal with possible tiktok withdrawals.

social media addiction is a very real thing. it’s so so important to be gentle with yourself, especially at a time like this if your screen time on tiktok isnt a number you’re proud of. I don’t say that to shame anyone, just to say “i understand” to those who may resonate & feel they could benefit from this. a digital shoulder to lean on. even if tiktok will come back, it’s good to put some healthy habits into practice anyways.

i don’t think a lot of people understand how detrimental the tiktok ban could be for some people — even if short lived. it served as a lifeline & im sorry if that’s been brushed off by anyone. this isn’t what i normally post but i did get an influx of followers recently of whom im assuming are from tiktok. thanks for making the trip over here, if you are one of those people :) !

disclaimer ! im not a mental health professional. if you are seriously struggling please please please go talk to someone who is qualified in dealing with addiction or any other issues you may be facing. wishing all of you peace in a time that feels like someone is pelting ten tennis balls at you from every direction imaginable.

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ self care …

⋆ if your anything like me, your sleep schedule is way off. now could be a good time to try & correct it. set a time to go to bed & even if your not sleepy, try & meditate or listen to a youtube video in the background while you rest your eyes.

⋆ adapting some sort of routine even if it’s just eating enough & drinking water regularly. it’s a start & it’ll help you focus on doing something else.

⋆ most importantly be kind to yourself & give yourself grace in the moments you are struggling. it can be hard to even acknowledge that you want to develop a healthy habit or change for the better when you dislike yourself or feel hopeless. all we can do is try & that’s something most do not consider. if you did so much as just read this post, you’re doing more then most.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ hobbies …

⋆ once you stop doomscrolling for hours on end, you’ll see how long the day really is. & there are so many things you can do to keep yourself occupied.

⋆ off the top of my head, here are some ideas on how to keep yourself busy ! : scrapbooking, coloring, sewing, jewelry making, video games, walking or running, photography, knitting, crocheting, people watching, making spotify playlists, going down youtube rabbit holes, embroidery, sculpting, poetry, learning astrology, meditation, yoga, baking or cooking, making mockups or concept art for various things.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ read …

⋆ piggybacking off of the point above, go to your local library & get a library card ! they don’t just have books but shows & movies & dvd’s ! buy some blanks & burn em so they’re yours forever.

⋆ the site thriftedbooks has used books for cheap. ebay & in person thrift stores are good options too if new books (or shows or music) are to pricey. sometimes your library will even have sales ! i once got a beautiful looking, 1927 poetry book for $2 at one of those.

⋆ not to mention how important education is & staying informed. keeping history fresh in your mind will always do you good. get that attention span up :) ik you can do it !

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ be productive …

⋆ i know you at least have a messy closet or drawer or maybe your camera roll needs to be cleaned out. take this time to do it.

⋆ alternatively, if you keep a list of books, movies & shows to watch like me in my notes app … why not dive into one of those ?

⋆ trust me, I know it sounds like such a big hurtle sometimes to simply do the dishes but you’ll feel so much better once everything’s done. often, i feel physically lighter.

⋆ that compulsion that we do when we click on tiktok & go “oh right !! it’s banned …” then close the app & do it two more times in a row before you audible huff at yourself ? try to keep your hands busy so you’re not tempted to reach for your phone 24/7 & repeat that cycle.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ community …

⋆ like i said, social media addiction is a real thing despite not being treated like one all the time. it’s unfortunately been normalized considering how many people are unaware they even struggle themselves. friends of mine have told me that they use tiktok to cope with things & something that serves as a distraction.

⋆ have people around you. don’t be alone as that’ll make you feel worse about yourself. even if you don’t have anyone in real life, im sure there are communities of your interest on the internet that would accept you with open arms. (like this one !) please don’t resort to online chat bots or ai tools for companionship.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ do what makes you happy … :)

⋆ watching your comfort show for the tenth time, being in nature, trying on your entire wardrobe to discover a favorite outfit that you didn’t know existed ? do it all. everything that brings you joy, do unapologetically.

────୨ৎ────

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter #reality shifter

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holyguardian · 3 days ago

Text

Aerith nodded again, this time more deeply. On this she wouldn't hesitate. If there was anything, anything at all that she thought would help Roran, she would ask for it.

But then Somnus played along with her. She exhaled an amused breath, lining up her feet to solve the puzzle of how she would ruin his favourite footwear by stretching the leather around double the feet and double the legs. "Careful, I might test that." It was a non-threat. Was she curious? Of course, it was in her head. But she was also respectful too. She wouldn't break anything that belonged to someone else for her own amusement.

Her attention shifted curiously as he mentioned his surprise. For a moment she had to glance away, wearing something like a guilty smile. She really sucked at keeping her promise, huh? He thought he had seen it all, and she still kept some secrets.

Though her eyes quickly found his again. He was hesitant. Not upset whatsoever about being surprised yet again. Her head tilted a little in silent encouragement for him to go on. All she could do was blink when he asked her not to laugh at him — and she sat a little straighter, showing him that she was taking his words seriously.

Her reaction was probably a far cry from his expectations. "Oh!" she exclaimed, sounding joyful. "You answered my prayer." Her hands clapped and she smiled wide as if it were something she thanked him for. "See, I can't cast that one alone. It's... The Spell, you know?" No, no he did not know. "It's too much for one person to cast quickly, maybe if they prayed for days without rest, but..." Her hands laid out in the air, palms up, while her fingers flexed. She was grasping for how to explain. "Those voices were my ancestors. They were helping me. Lending me their strength. And... you, the way you explained your power as being a blessing, you're able to do the same thing as Cetra. Lend your strength towards a big spell. If you were gathered in a space with a group of people who all had blessed power — something that a god, or astral, or the Planet itself gave — all of you could combine strength into a... well, a very big spell. Just like Holy."

Aerith stood from her place on the window sill and breezed to her bedside. The object of her attention was nestled away and wrapped in her favourite ribbon. When she turned back around, she carried a white orb in both of her hands.

Coming to a stop in front of the Prince, she held the precious, glimmering sphere so close that he could touch it. In fact, that's what she expected him to do.

"The Cetra believe knowledge is meant to be passed down. Power too. When we pass away, it's not an end, it's a new beginning. We believe that we become one with the Lifestream, and that is how we hear the voices of those who came before us, how we ask for help to cast our big spells." Normally she wouldn't explain her belief system to someone from another kingdom, but Somnus had placed his trust in her, so she offered the same.

"I guess that means we're compatible." she suddenly mused, her gaze so much more intense up close like she was, as if she looked into the depths of his soul. "We could train together sometime. Spell-casting, specifically. Not your backflipping, leaping, run wild warrior course." It was a small tease peppered in with a genuine offer. "I can lend my power to one of your spells if you'd like."

The princess was in disarray – if one would judge her from the prim and proper protocols the courts usually followed. But so was he.

It seemed they both had not bothered with a lot of new pressing attire after the cleaning. His white toga as simple as her linen dress. Whit how she leaned by the window, having the wind softly tug at strands of her long curls, she had similarities to the drawings of beautiful goddesses and ancient myths that you could marvel at on the walls of temples.

Sitting down by the table, Somnus shook his head once to get rid of such foolish thoughts. Not the right place, not the right time. What was he even thinking at all?!

Smiling a little at how Aerith seemed to want to talk all about her littler bother, he watched her from his spot. She loved Roran, that much was clear. The little boy was lucky to have a sister like that.

“Please tell me if there is anything my family can do for your brother’s comfort.”

There was an offer on the top of his tongue. He knew magic that could… help Roran with sleep. Ironically his name was quite suiting in that case.

Her next comment made him smirk, stretching out his leg so his foot came to rest by hers, as Somnus tilted his head.

“Hm, I think not. You could fit both your feet in one of my sandals.”

She was smaller than him, thinner – not frail. But it was apparent that he was a trained warrior while she cast magic and had been relegated to an otherwise sheltered royal life.

And yet… what she had done in that cave…

“You surprised me again with your powers. What you did in those caves… I have never seen anything like it. It was like… pure light. But much more than that. And…”, for a moment he hesitated, though maybe she was the only one he could tell about this? Yes. Looking at her again with her endless green eyes, Somnus trusted her to not ridicule him for such thoughts. His hand coming up to rest against his chest, where a few hours ago he had witnessed his magic responding to her.

“I felt my own powers resonating with yours. Please don’t laugh… I saw it. It was like threads of light came from my body and sought you. For a moment I thought I heard the voices of a hundred people whispering.”

#somnus-lucis-caelum #verse; star crossed

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skibiditoiletfan69 · 3 days ago

Text

Eltingville school headcannons

Bill- Bill grew up reading comic’s about his superhero idol’s and got some insight’s on there high school lives so that had a strong mold on how his own high school life would be. Unfortunately, being a guy who’s body Oder is so fucking strong you can see the green aura coming off of him and with an personality that isn’t much to help, it make’s it hard for an guy like him to be popular. His grade’s are shitty but his poor mom only enables him. Surprisingly, he isn’t the last to get picked in gym as he channel’s his inner anger as fuel. (Especially dodgeball) but besides that, he is pretty quiet in his other classes. He has a few friend’s but none are female. Girl’s usually tend to stay away from him.

Jerry- Jerry is a nice kid. He’s the mildest of the club and when he’s not with them, he’s pretty likeable. He does great in his literature classes and is great at finding the more deeper meaning’s and symbolism’s behind book’s but struggles with his more academic classes like math and science. It’s not exciting! Jerry has an hard time connecting with the other kid’s (I head cannon he has autism) so he preferres to keep to himself and read fantasy books during lunch and free periods. But, he does manage to make some friend’s. Both male and female. A lot of his teachers likeJerry, as they see potential in his creative mind. They try to draw him out and encourage his love of fantasy, but their attempts are often met with shy smiles and mumbled thanks. Jerry is hesitant to accept praise or attention, fearing it might make him stand out. Sometime’s, the poor kid get’s teased. It’s okay, he’s not a major target.

(Sorry for the huge text, I love Jerry)

Pete- I think Pete’s home life is pretty hard. No offense but you have to be some sort of fucked up to like the stuff he like’s and he couldn’t have gone that low without some sort to hardship in his life. With the lack of role model and motivation, he doesn’t really try. His grades are consistently low and he struggled academically, often skipping class to go do whatever. When he is in class, he mock’s his teacher’s and is pretty rude to the people around him. He’s read all of the horrer book’s in the school’s library and is a frequent visitor to the school's media room to watch gore and snuff. (School media censorship wasn’t very good back then.) He’s pretty short and a little chubby (cannon) so he struggles in sports and gym class class. He has friend’s and a few even female, all horror buff’s like himself.

Josh- Josh struggles with academics and he often end up’s falling behind in class because of his need to just focus on his obsession’s with sci-fi and fantasy and push everything else to the side. His grades are inconsistent, with a mix of A's in subjects he likes and C's in those he doesn't. He’s alway’s zoned out in class, daydreaming about his favorite sci-fi stories or debating fictional scenarios with himself. (Darth Vader vs goku?) He’s known for his hair which he doesn’t really take care of. He argues with teachers who try to push him to focus on his studies, leading to heated discussions and arguments and he st ruggles socially, as his obsession with sci-fi and fantasy makes it hard for him to connect with his peers. Has a few close friends, like the other members of The Eltingville Club, none are female lmao.

Like it? If u want more just send it to me in my request’s @p3ppermnt

#welcome to eltingville #the eltingville club #eltingville club #eltingville #eltingville headcanons #josh levy #jerry stokes #pete dinunzio #bill dickey

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creatingblackcharacters · 3 days ago

Note

Hello!

First of all: thanks for this blog. I know you put a lot of time and effort into it and it's helped a lot of people, myself included, improve at characterization and art and writing in general. I've learned a lot about stereotypes and how to write better representation and so has everyone who keeps up with this blog. You can't be thanked enough for that. That's one of the main things I wanted to say in this ask.

It means a lot to me that you're here and you're putting in the time to teach us about so many important things when you absolutely have no obligation to.

Onto the ask itself, I wanted to know: Is there a next best thing when it comes to sensitivity readers? If you don't have the resources to hire one, what should you do instead? I'm concerned that just reading this blog and doing general research isn't enough.

If you find the time to answer this, thank you so much!

You're welcome!

I hate to say it like this, but Black friends 😅 The best way to better understand Black people is to build community with us, be in spaces where we're actually speaking on things we care about on our media. You'd learn how to spot those things in your own work. That's gonna take time (and shouldn't just be for your stories, btw). If you're in a fandom, there are probably Black voices struggling to be heard with the very answers you seek.

I'm always suggesting reading Black authors who are in the genre that you want to write in and studying their skill as well. Might just have to take a pause from writing and read. It's a practice!

Other than that, you might just have to be vulnerable and post your work, and make it clear that if something is concerning that you'll accept feedback for that from any Black readers that you have. You'll never get everything perfect and that's not the expectation, but you have to be willing to hear the free constructive feedback if that's really what you want.

#creatingblackcharacters

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tblrthreadtracker · 2 days ago

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RPThreadTracker Updates - I'm Still Here, Closing Patreon, and Other Info

Hello, friends! Happy 2025!

First allow me to apologize for having been quite off the radar recently; the last year was, to put it mildly, very chaotic for me and I have not had a ton of mental energy to put towards managing RPThreadTracker. That is, frankly, probably going to continue to be the case in the coming year as well.

While I'm not planning to close the app at the moment, I don't anticipate I'll be doing a ton of new development on it. A couple of associated notes:

I'm going to be closing the Patreon I have had running for the last couple years. I'm in a position now where I don't need the support to continue hosting, and I don't feel like it's reasonable to continue taking membership donations on Patreon when I'm not really producing any new development on the site. Thank you SO much to everyone who has contributed to me there over the last few years; your support has meant a ton. Paypal donations are still always welcome if you want to contribute, but I won't be taking regular Patreon donations anymore.

I have received a couple of messages from people asking for help recovering their account which I know I never followed up on. I will be trying to do so for some of those outstanding messages in the next week, but if you tried to reach me in the past for help logging in and did not receive a response, please feel free to message me again at [email protected] from the email associated with your account.

There have been some bug reports recently from people reporting issues with not all of their threads being loaded. In a lot of cases this seems to be happening to people who have had accounts for a long time and have built up enough threads that attempts to fetch all of them from Tumblr start getting throttled. While I hope to eventually do more work to improve performance in this regard, I recommend archiving, or exporting and then removing, some of your oldest threads if you are starting to encounter this issue.

Thanks again so much to those who have supported the app over the years and who are continuing to use it. I am sorry that I do not have more news to report as far as improvements to the app but I do hope that it continues to be useful to you all in its current form. Please do continue to feel free to reach out to me if you encounter issues unrelated to the above one.

Thanks,

Trackermun

#rpthreadtracker #rp thread tracker #rp threadtracker #news

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evangelifloss · 16 hours ago

Note

Hey, I just red your amazing fight analysis and I want to know what you think about the scene where the bartender at the continental bar in the first movie says to John that he looks „vulnerable“. Do you think it’s the look in his eyes or the way he acts or moves ? (Which in my opinion look pretty normal) and how do you think John was before he left the business? Was he more cruel with his kills ?

I'm guessing you mean this scene, right? I hope so because I made this gif JUST for this ask since I LOVE what you've sent in. Thank you @persephone411 💖💖

To answer why the bartender picks up on John's vulnerability without him seemingly displaying any signals, I'll first and foremost use what I know of the later instalments regarding John's behaviour. And that is how much he speaks. Between movies 1 and 2, there's only a 15 word difference in regards to how many lines of dialogue he has (1st movie has 484, 2nd has 499) and for a movie that has a run time of 1 hour and 40-ish minutes, that's not alot of dialogue to begin with.

Take for example, Jack Sparrow from the 1st Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Reading through the script, I counted roughly 490 lines of dialogue from him and that movie has a runtime of 20 minutes LESS than John Wick 1!

So we know that John isn't a talker. Yet, when he finds himself back at the Continental bar, and reunites with the bartender who knows him very well, and given how familiar they are (her excitement at seeing him, a brief hug/cheek kiss) it becomes apparent that John is more... open. He doesn't just order a drink and say nothing else. He engages with her, and expresses, "She (helen) was more than I deserved." Which by all accounts expresses a softer side to John, an admission that he is not impervious to grief. Assassins don't do that. Retired he may still technically be, he is still in a room full of people who are NOT retired, who could overhear and see the man behind Baba Yaga. That sentimentality can get you killed in the Assassin world.

Secondly, his face is sporting a few rough marks, and I very much doubt John the Baba Yaga would show himself at the Continental bar sporting proof he can be injured.

As my final thought, for me personally, it's his tone and his eyes that give away his grief. His inner turmoil that will eventually overflow into a bloody tsunami. The micro-movements of his face as he pauses, when he looks away, and even when he greets her, the man is Tired. The man is not at this point in time, the Baba Yaga.

The second part of your ask is very interesting because we have almost next to nothing to go off of! No prequels (thank god) and barely any direct Lore other than what others speak about John which ironically, is missing direct context which leaves us viewers to speculate.

The John we know is the old John. The grieving John. The Man. We get glimpses of what he used to be, and how characters react upon hearing his name but we never get the Baba Yaga. Not entirely.

Continuing off this, my personal speculation is that John wasn't a vicious killer. He was an incredibly efficient one. You can buy time with a sadist if you are able to withstand them long enough for help to arrive but you cannot do the same towards someone whose only goal is to kill you on sight. As quickly as possible. And that someone also happens to be the best of the best. Combine those two skills and I think that is what makes Baba Yaga so terrifying to those in the underworld. It was enough for Viggo, head of a massive Russian syndicate, to go silent upon hearing the name despite knowing John had been retired for 5 years!!

On another note, and this barely gets touched upon but throughout the movie you come to know that for such a silent and deadly killer, John has a weird amount of people willing to die for him.

The High Table actively discourages and creates a continually hostile environment amongst assassins so that bonds and genuine alliances/friendships can't begin nor be maintained and yet... look how many people are willing to so far for John.

This speaks to the level of respect and integrity John must have to simultaneously be a deadly killer AND to not be hated by everyone.

He does his job well but he is not cruel. He will not endanger unrelated persons if he can help it, he is sincere and loyal.

It's why the High Table fuckin hates him.

#its 4am and i wrote this up for like the past hour and a half #sorry if its jumbled #thank you for thr ask omg #john wick #wickblr #keanuverse #keanu reeves #viggo tarasov #jw #chad stahelski #winston #john wick winston #ian mcshane #the continental #the high table

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canirove · 17 hours ago

Text

Canary boy | Chapter 8

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Friday)

Masterlist

It's been two weeks since the Halloween party.

And now you may be wondering, oh my God, what has happened between Inés and Pedri since then? Have they talked about what happened while they were dancing? About what he said? Did she speak with Carla the next morning? Did she get too angry? Are they still friends?

Well, yes, we still are friends. And yes, she got a bit angry.

Once we got home from the party we didn't say much. I was still a bit shaken by what had happened, so she just helped me get out of my dress and we went to bed. But in the morning, while we were having breakfast, I told her everything. From Pedri not telling me who he was, to me finding out, getting a bit tipsy because of Nacho's fault, and all the touching and kissing neck and cleavage that came after plus what he confessed while my hand was there, and then when he told me about breaking up with Nerea and the swimming pool accident. And her reactions were different intonations of the same “oh my God, Inés!” than went from “what the fuck is wrong with you”, to “what the fuck I can't believe it”, and everything in between.

But in the end, everything was and is good between us. She still can't believe the hand part, loves reminding me about the tits kissing like she calls it and making my face turn bright red, keeps telling me to be careful because things could still get messy and she doesn't want him to break my heart, but at the same she doesn't forget about what Nacho said. About everyone knowing that I like Pedri and that he feels the same for me. That he likes me back.

“They say kids and drunks always tell the truth, Inés” Carla had said.

But we are talking about Nacho. He isn't the most trustworthy person. Though he and Pedri are really close, so could he have confessed something to him?

Then there is what Vic told me before the party, all that thing about the connection we have and Nerea being jealous of it, me maybe being in love with him…

And oh, yes. Since all that wasn't confusing enough already, we need to add football to the mix.

We've been playing back to back games and barely having any free time since the Champions League is back. It's been all about training, playing, resting, traveling… There hasn't been time for much else, not even to see Pedri and have that very much needed chat.

But today may be the day that changes.

It is my last game with Barça before the international break, which means that those of us who haven't been called up will have some time to breathe and relax for a bit. He is coming to watch us play, and then we are going to my place and making dinner together.

So maybe… Since we have this joke about only asking personal questions while cooking or cleaning for the other… I'll be brave enough and ask him about the party. About what happened between us. About what it meant.

Or maybe I will chicken out and stay confused as hell for two more weeks. Make your bets.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You know, if life as a journalist doesn't work, you can always open a restaurant, Pedri. This is the best thing I've ever eaten.”

“Thank you” he smiles. “Though maybe you should try eating it a bit slower?”

“I can't. This is fucking delicious” I say, filling my mouth with more food.

“Do it for me, Inés. I don't want our first kiss to be me performing CPR on you because you are choking.”

“What?”

“See?” Pedri chuckles when half of what I had in my mouth falls to the plate, the other threatening to go the wrong way. Such a lady, Inés…

But did you hear what he just said? Like, did you? Our first… Holy shit.

“So… Umm…” I say when I manage to properly swallow. “I have something for you. Like an early birthday present.”

“Inés, you didn't have to get me anything.”

“It's nothing. Wait here while I go get it, ok?” I say, getting up from my seat.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise” he smiles.

“Like I said, it's nothing” I say when I'm back, my hand shaking a bit when I give him the envelope with his present.

“A Spider-Man birthday card?” he laughs.

“It fits you. You wore the suit the other day, saved someone's life, Pedro in English is Peter…” I shrug. My other option was one that said “happy birthday, hot stuff”, but we aren't there yet. “The present is inside.”

“Ok…” he says, opening it while I bite my lip. Why is he doing it so slowly? “Inés!” Pedri gasps. “This… you… I… I can't accept this.”

“Of course you can! It's a present!”

“Inés, it is a plane ticket to Tenerife. No, it actually is two since there is one to go there and one to come back to Barcelona.”

“I know.”

“This isn't cheap. I know it better than anyone.”

“But I can afford it, Pedri. I already told you this is nothing. And this isn't me bragging about having money or shaming you because you don't have enough or…” Focus, Inés. Focus. “It's just that you sounded so gutted the other day when you told me that you couldn't spend your birthday with your parents and celebrate their anniversary, that I… I… I didn't like seeing you like that. I don't like seeing you like that, Pedri. So if I can do something to make you smile again, to make you happy, I will” I say, my eyes focused on my hands. Did I just say all that to him? Aloud? Oh… my God.

“Inés…” he says, getting up from his seat. “Inés, look at me” he says again, holding my chin and making me look at him. Have I ever mentioned that he has the most beautiful brown eyes ever? “You don't know how much this means to me. I… Thank you. Thank you very much” Pedri says, his voice cracking a bit before hugging me.

“You're welcome” I whisper as I hug him back, daring to move one of my hands and caress the back of his head, something that makes him hug me tighter as he buries his face on my neck. And he… He is… Oh my God. He is crying. I've made him cry, I… “Sorry.”

“What?” he says, looking up.

“I've made you cry, Pedri. I wanted to make you happy and I've made you cry. I am so stupid…”

“These aren't sad tears, Inés” he smiles, wiping them away. “They are the happiest I've shared in a long time.”

“They… what?”

“This is one of the best birthday gifts I've ever received. I would say the best, but that probably is Iniesta’s Barça shirt when I was a kid” he chuckles.

“I mean, he won us the World Cup. I can't compete with that.”

“You actually could, you know? Even beat it. You just have to come to Tenerife with me” he smiles.

“What?” I laugh. “Wait, you are serious.”

“Deadly serious. Come with me, Inés.”

“Pedri, I…”

“You are going to have some free days because of the international break, aren't you?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then come with me” he says, putting a lock of hair behind my ear, the feeling of his fingers touching me not helping with the way my head is spinning.

“I can't, Pedri. Like, you just broke up with Nerea. You can't show up a few days later in front of your parents with a new girl.”

“I never told them about her.”

“You… what?” I say, my eyes definitely looking as if they are about to pop from their sockets.

“Yeah” he shrugs. “They knew that I was seeing someone, but I didn't tell them anything else, if it was serious or not. Only Fer and some of my cousins who follow me on Instagram knew that we were actually dating.”

“And didn't she ask you to meet them?”

“No” he shrugs again.

“But you were together for almost three years, Pedri. Did you at least meet her parents?”

“I did.”

“And judging by your face, it didn't go well.”

“It didn't, no” he sighs. “We met a couple of times, and I always got the feeling that they thought I wasn't enough for their daughter. Like, her grandfather on her mum's side was a duke or something like that, and the one on her dad's owned a bank in Switzerland. Meanwhile, my parents run a small bar and need to save for months in advance to be able to visit their son.”

“Money doesn't make you a better person, Pedri.”

“I know but… nevermind” he says, shaking his head. “That's in the past now.”

“And it is their loss. Because you are so worth it…” I say, caressing his cheek. “And just judging by what you've told me about your parents, so are they. Nerea's parents wish they had a family like yours and a relationship and love like your parents do.”

“Thank you” he smiles. “But does this mean that you will come meet them?” he asks, his smile turning into a teasing one. “If they are so worth it…”

“I…” Damn it. He's got me there. “But what will you tell them? That I am just a friend?”

“Yeah” he shrugs. Ouch. “Come with me, Inés” Pedri says, closing the space between us a bit more, my heart starting to beat even faster than it already was. “Let me show you my home, the city where I grew up and my favourite places, introduce you to the people I love, to my childhood friends… Let me show you a side of me you haven't seen yet. The canary boy like Carla calls me.”

“Wait, you know about that?”

“Mario told me” he laughs. “C'mon, Inés. Say yes.”

“Pedri…”

“Say yes, please” he says, moving even closer. “Don't make me cheat and do my pouty face. I know you can resist it.”

I mean, who can? Like… those lips? Urgh.

“Inés…”

“Ok, fine. Fine, I'll go.”

“Really?” he says, his smile growing by the second.

“Yes. I will go to Tenerife with you.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Pedri!” I laugh when he lifts me in the air and starts spinning around. “You are gonna make me dizzy!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry” he says, putting me down. “I'm sorry. But thank you, Inés. This is gonna be the best trip ever. Thank you.”

“You're welcome” I reply, finding myself smiling as big as he is and even getting excited about it. Though at the same time, there is a part of me that is freaking out because I'm about to meet his family, all while another can't let go of the fact that he said he is going to introduce me as just a friend. Which it is what we are but… What about everything that happened at the party? About what we did and what he said? Did it mean nothing? Did I dream it all?

“Should we finish our dinner?” he says, letting go of me.

“Yes, of course” I nod before sitting down.

“You are going to love Tenerife, Inés. I promise you” Pedri says, still smiling.

“Yeah” I say before starting to eat again.

Let's just hope I don't regret it all.

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