#that SOMETHING would have changed by the end?

[vickillaman]

People expecting a character like Caitlyn who has shown so many times her clear disdain for communicating her feelings verbally, to have lengthy conversations and never ending apologies for everything she has done wrong is a bit disappointing.

Caitlyn is a politician’s daughter. She knows that words are always there to smooth the rough edges of the conflict or to make promises that another age won’t see coming to fruition and, essentially, mean nothing without the action following.

People offer their sympathies and she just doesn’t acknowledge their words, Cait just moves past it and changes the topic or tries to make up a plan to just do something, to fix and salvage.

She shows, not tells.

She doesn’t say a word as she rushes to bring her father in a tight embrace after being on the brink of death and allowing herself to stay like that for a few moments with a person she thought she’d never see again.

She doesn’t say a word as her eyes are slowly drifting lower as if preparing herself to face yet another of her mistakes that she can’t erase. She’s reaching out to gently graze her fingers over an injury and the spot that she hit the person who she loved so much in, sorrow and remorse all over her face.

She doesn’t say a word as she puts every obstacle out of Vi’s way to make sure that nothing would stop her to free Jinx: to free the person who tormented her mind even before she knew her name, to get her out of the cell and out of the punishment Caitlyn was determined to bring on her with all the rage and ferocity of a grieving daughter.

She doesn’t say a word as she gives up her inherited sit in the Council for a Zaunite who she faced in a fight that she barely got out of alive by sheer luck and is there to represent the interests and stand for the rights of the city she poisoned and regarded the residents of with a loss-reinforced contempt and prejudice.

Why would she need to say anything when she shows so much?

And why would you, as a viewer, rob yourself of the opportunity to appreciate the nuance of the character like that?

[clockwayswrites]

Bird Cuddles Part 26ish

Masterpost

This is hardly a full scene, though a stopping point. But I'm feeling positively dismal today so wanted to share something. Enjoy, hopefully!

-

Bruce sighed.

It was all that he could do when his two oldest were standing in front of him, both trying to laugh as quietly as possible. Dick’s fist was basically stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet where as Jason was using sheer force of will (and a good amount of smugness) to stay quiet.

“Be nice,” Bruce mouthed silently.

“No.” Jason mouthed back gleefully.

Bruce had the distinct urge to bury his face into the soft wings and simply ignore his sons even being in the room with him. He didn’t give into that urge because he was sure if he did, neither would ever let him live it down. Even as he was thinking that, Dick pulled out his cellphone and snapped a photo.

Bruce felt his phone vibrate a moment later.

He sighed again.

Luckily, Cass swept in a moment later (apparently it was to be a full house at dinner), kissed Bruce lightly on his temple, and went over to her brothers. She looked at Dick’s phone, nodded at the picture, and then took each of the boy’s hands and led them out of the room.

Jason left with one last smirk, but at least the door was closed behind them with a definitive latch.

Bruce still waited a long moment before he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

The picture certainly looked incriminating.

When Danny had fallen asleep, likely exhausted from soothing the boys, the panic attack, and the general drama of the day, he had nodded off sitting upright. When the boys had left, Damian had tasked Bruce with ‘seeing it that Dr. Fenton stayed well’. It was shortly after that when Danny had started shifting, as if trying to get comfortable with the wings, and ended up tilting over.

Once he had settled, Danny had ended up curled across Bruce’s lap with his knees on one side of Bruce and his head on the other. One of the wings was tucked up against Bruce’s chest while the other wing, limp with sleep, stretched out along Bruce’s leg and down to the floor.

Bruce ran his fingers lightly over the white feathers. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his horde of children, but Bruce was completely unbothered by having someone nap on him. The thing that he was bothered by, despite his best efforts to separate himself from the nightlife, is how comfortable he was about that someone being Danny.

Really, there was relatively little that they knew about Danny. The biggest point in Danny’s favor was that Lucius trusted Danny—trusted Danny enough to consider bring Danny in to work with the Bats. The biggest point against Danny were the same wings that Bruce was running his fingers over.

Not that Bruce would ever judge someone negatively for being a meta. Almost all of Bruce’s closest friends were or became metas, after all, even if some of them were now also rogues. The meta status was almost easy to handle. The concerning part were all of the little details that Danny had hinted at about how he had become a meta: neglectful parents, a lab accident at a young age, extensive scaring. Bruce touched the faint Lichtenberg scars lightly. It made Bruce worry about what had triggered the change in Danny. After all, some of Bruce’s closest friends where now also rogues.

It was unfair to compare Danny to Harvey.

It was hard not to.

The fact that it was hard not to compare Danny to Harvey was concerning in itself. Bruce’s track record in the people that he found alluring was far from ideal. It felt almost like dooming Danny simply by the fact that Bruce had taken note of him. Already Danny was getting caught up in the turmoil of their lives and suffering for it.

That was perhaps too harsh. Danny had handled himself more than admirably, wings and all. Danny’s actions made sure that the boys had time to get to the safe room, stayed safe once there, and that the assault ended with minimal bloodshed. Bruce just wished that the change it caused hadn’t left Danny in a state of panic.

Bruce sighed. Maybe he had to remember that Danny wasn’t someone that Bruce was responsible for; Danny was a competent adult who could clearly protect himself from at least lower level threats. It wasn’t fair for Bruce to try and make decisions for Danny, even in an effort to protect him from the craziness of being near the Wayne family.

[jjenthusee]

Delivery

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Lately your grocery list was looking a little small, your cleaning supplies were never running out, and you don’t remember buying these soaps? Who was the one refilling all your stuff?

Word Count: 1.5k

Something was off.

You were writing your list for your weekly shopping errands to refill any soap, groceries, or cleaning supplies running low, but nothing was empty. Half a bottle at best.

It had been bothering you that your large restocks that made you wince at the end of the month looking at the large receipt had minimized to five items at most.

How was this possible?

You didn’t cut down on spending or on using less items, but now that you look at your kitchen, everything was well stocked.

You counted the amount of extra paper towel rolls, the extra unopened cleaning spray that you do not remember buying, and the new bottle of cooking oil in your cabinet.

This was suspicious, very suspicious.

Call yourself the world’s second greatest detective because you narrowed down the culprit restocking your home.

“That red tin man…” You firmly looked over to the window, the shiny, newly replaced lock calling your name. “Let’s see how well your safety measures work.”

You shut the window, doubling the two locks installed by Jason himself, giving you a personal pep talk ensuring that no one is getting in. Not even him, especially him.

With some duct tape, you taped layers over the window seal. As you looked at your work, you thought to yourself…bookcase, yes. A large bookcase.

With heavy breaths, you pushed the bookcase in front of the window.

You were not letting in your not-an-actual-burglar tonight. Now you would wait.

—

Jason was off patrol, his muscles ached, his helmet felt heavy, but he was grappling his way to the small 24-hour mart that he has been cutting the cameras at.

As much as he wouldn’t be shopping with his gear on, the small store was enough for him for a quick shop and the cashier was a tired college student who couldn’t care less about who walked through the sliding doors.

He remembered you were running low on some hand soap in the kitchen and a replacement seasoning salt.

He hummed as he shopped, walking up to the counter to leave extra cash and disappearing before the cashier had time to turn back to give him back his change.

Jason softly landed on the fire escape outside your window. He waited to watch and listen for any movement inside your apartment.

The lights were off and you had to be asleep.

It was perfect for a quick look in, place the items, and go back to his safe house.

He gripped the window, gently trying to lift with the shopping bag on his arm. When it wouldn’t budge, he tried one more time with a little more force.

He put down the plastic bag and noticed you were using the lock he installed. It brought a small smirk to his face at the thought of you utilizing something he made himself.

When he looked closer, he realized the small sliver of light on the edge of the window, blurring from the curtain.

Something was blocking the light, your lights hadn’t been off at all.

As Jason was going to turn on his infrared lenses, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

You: so you were my burglar

Jason held in his laugh, fully piecing the situation together.

Jason: but I haven’t stolen anything

You: so breaking and entering? This is illegal trespassing sir

Jason: glad the lock works, but have to deduct points for the duct tape

You: if it can hold cars together, it can hold my window shut, even better if it keeps vigilantes out of my home

Jason: but I still have your apartment keys

You: yes, jay, you do. So please use my front door cause you are welcome to use it

Jason reread the message. He held his eyes on the word “welcome,” feeling his chest tighten slightly.

Jason: let me change. Be back in 10

Jason felt like an idiot, realizing he had been caught. He pulled an ordinary T-shirt over his head. His matted hair slightly fraying to the movement.

He exhaled in exhaustion as he pulled a jacket over his shoulders and grabbed the plastic bag from earlier.

How was he going to explain?

Hey, sorry, I’ve just been breaking in and refilling your groceries and anything that seems to be running low? I also got you some seasoning salt, you were running out.

Jason smacked the side of his head.

You had to be pissed because you locked the window and clearly barricaded it.

Jason got to your door, somehow, he felt his eye-bags deepen, his frown get stronger, and his hands felt colder.

With reluctance, he knocked three times. You had unlocked the door surprisingly fast, he figured you were waiting right there until he got to your apartment.

“Come in.” You left the door open for Jason, walking back to the kitchen to pour your tea.

Jason noticed how tired you looked. He felt even worse picturing you staying up until he attempted to open your window.

What if he hadn’t come by tonight?

He didn’t move from the door, watching from just outside your apartment.

“I just wanted to bring these over, I’ll leave now.” He tried to run. He needed to leave before you told him to never come back.

“Jay…” You walked over, grabbing onto his sleeve while guiding him inside. He was cold. “Shoes off. Sit on the couch.”

He immediately obeyed not wanting to anger you more.

You followed and sat next to him, your comfy clothes sinking into the cushion.

Jason looked over to the bookcase you clearly moved not long ago.

“I didn’t realize I hired a delivery man. Actually, I’m more embarrassed I finally realized what you’ve been doing.” You sipped at your cup. “How long?”

Jason tilted his head at your question.

“How long, Jay?” You emphasized.

“Five months, 2 weeks.”

“Five months?!”

“I made sure to make it very subtle, but eventually I…got carried away.” Jason admitted, his body stiffening the more honest he became.

“Jay…I’m not mad.” You reached out to grab his hand, kneading warmth into his bruised knuckles. “Really. I just need you to tell me when you do this.”

“But the bookcase and the lock.” Jason subtly relaxed to your touch, but he was far from leaning into the couch comfortably.

“Okay, I was a little mad, but that was because I had only realized that I haven’t properly restocked anything in a while. I looked at my store apps and card history and I had nothing. Just snacks or last-minute purchases.” You sighed, signaling Jason to give you his other hand to warm.

“You were busy…and I thought I could get them for you. I made sure to get the right ones.” Jason watched your hands, refusing to look at you directly.

“I know. You did so well that I took so long to realize. But, I work. I can get these things and you can get me things too, but let me know, please. That would help me out a lot and so I can thank you.”

“But I don’t do it for your words. I like helping you. If it lessens your stress, I’ll do it for you.” Jason reasoned. He was stubbornly defending his actions because you were at the root of his mind.

You were at a loss for words.

“It did help me out a lot, but it also confused me when I had an unlimited bar of soap.” You chuckled.

The sound of your laugh eased Jason. His shoulders sunk a little lower at your tension easing.

“No more frowning.” You rubbed the edges of his mouth and his furrowed brow. “I found out, you owe me dessert tomorrow, and you can get back your window privileges when you let me know when you buy me something.” You yawned.

“I said that I don’t do it to hear you thank me—“ He tried to remind you.

“I know, but I’m tired from trying to catch my burglar and I want to cuddle.” You opened your arms, waiting for Jason to ease into your embrace.

“I’m not a burglar.” Jason argued, taking off his jacket and laying into the couch, grabbing you to lay on top of him. “Did you also take another shift? You look exhausted.”

You rubbed Jason’s eye-bags when you settled comfortably. You were probably matching his raccoon eyes.

“Kiss me and I’ll go to sleep.” You smiled, sleepily touching Jason’s stubble with your hands.

He leaned into your hands, while gripping underneath your chin to bring his face to yours. The sweet touch of your lips was enough to get Jason to fully relax into you, to take in the moment and trust that you weren’t mad at him for what he was doing. It had been with good intentions, but he was just taking a different route.

“Go to bed.” Jason leaned your head onto his chest.

Your eyes got heavy, your breathing was starting to even out, but you had one last idea.

“If you tell me when you buy something, I’ll give you a kiss.” You faded into a deep sleep.

Jason had never forgot to tell you again, he even purposefully bought you extra things you didn’t need to buy.

You eventually had to start setting limits and unlocked your window for your favorite vigilante visits.

[et6rnalsun]

accidentally walking in on bff!matt while he’s changing..

oh, you were so pissed off. so incredibly pissed off.

you couldn't believe how chris had the fucking audacity to throw away your lashes, despite you repeatedly telling him to be careful, and to keep them on their table until you came back to get them. your favorite pair, too.

it wasn't uncommon for you to stay at their house to sleep, and that you left pieces of your things around like an incomplete puzzle, which will probably remain so. but never, never in the fuckin history of your friendship, one of the three had lost or just thrown away something of yours. and when it happened to your beloved eyelashes, you knew for sure that you would have loved to commit a murder.

the wheels in your head were spinning non-stop in the evil creation of a plan against chris, all while you were walking briskly towards matt's room.

“i think it’s time for you to beat chris’s ass every fuckin’ day” you said with a huff escaping your glossy lips, opening his door — swinging it fully — without even glancing inside before doing so. only when you looked up you realized the fact that the boy was half naked in front of you. damn.

you stopped working for a few seconds too long, looking stupid in matt's eyes who was simply trying to change. your mouth wide open, a light shade of red dusting your cheeks as if a wave of freezing cold had passed through your soft skin like a caress, but in reality it was just the embarrassment of having caught your best friend in such a state.

his dark hair looked even thicker when wet, dripping from a shower you could tell he'd just taken. he was holding a t-shirt in his hands that he hadn't had time to put on, in fact, his chest was completely exposed to your eyes that betrayed your desire to just disappear from earth — traveling all over his body as if you were waiting for nothing else. his tattooed arm seemed even more beautiful in that context, and you found yourself sighing as you searched for something to say.

the gray sweatpants that were pulled down low enough to show the elastic of his calvin klein underwear, a v-line that you would love to touch with your tongue— "i'm sorry" you cleared your throat, fighting the urge to slap yourself.

his reaction surprised you, as he simply chuckled and finally put that shirt on. "what were you saying ‘bout chris?" matt quickly changed the subject, tilting his head as he looked at you intently. you shrugged in response, the urge to kill his brother suddenly gone. christ, you were too embarrassed to even breathe at that moment.

matt seemed to notice, and leaned in slightly as a smirk tugged at the corners of his pink lips. "don't tell me you're suddenly shy" he taunted, tortured you just for the fun of it. "you've only seen me shirtless, you haven't ended up in my sheets just yet" he added, making your eyes widen as your hand automatically moved to slap his chest. covered.

"shut up. you better shut up or chris won't be the only one to die today"

"i just have to undress and you'll change your mind—” another slap. in the face.

[tha-star]

What makes me sad is knowing that they had more scenes with Ekko, especially him and Jinx, not only in this second season, but also in the first one.

I feel like we're missing more context. Yes, those scenes don't change the ending of the timebomb and Ekko as well, but I feel like they were important for both of them, to understand more about what was between the two of them.

And there was something, love was there, it wasn't just in the other alternative, even if they had no future, I would like to see... 🥹

And it's so sad to know that he saved the world, but couldn't save those who were important to him.

It's that old tragedy, the hero who saved the world, but couldn't save his world.

... I'll have to go to ao3 and fool myself that he had a happy ending

I’m sorry but I will truly never get over Ekko who lost his mentor and all his friends at a young age, then spent the rest of his childhood building a beautiful and strong community that helped get shimmer addicts off the streets and give them a new life that thrived off of trust, respect, and loyalty while slowly watching the girl he loves lose herself to her psyche and become an unhinged suicidal terrorist who he is unable to save despite repeated attempts at it. And THEN gets booted into an alternate reality where he learns he could have had EVERYTHING, the beautiful and thriving community, the education, his family, and the girl he loves and he heartbreakingly leaves it all behind because he knows he doesn’t belong there and he has to go back to save his people which he DOES multiple times at great risk despite knowing what overextending his z-drive could do only to end up completely alone in the end. The most selfless character in the entire series. That’s my boy savior.

[yamumsyadadd]

the shadow of alexia

At 4 years old my entire life changed. One day my dad was at home and the next he wasn’t. Things changed after that. Everyone was sad, lots of people visited too. Sometimes I got new toys when they came over. 

Alba was a scary teenager but Alexia. Alexia was my best friend and I was hers. She would take me to kindergarten and pick me up, she never missed a soccer game or ballet recital, she was always there. So was her special friend Jenni. Jenni was great, when I was little she used to let me colour in her tattoos, Everytime she got a new one, she’s get me new pens to colour on her. 

As time went on, Alba and Alexia started moving out. Alexia moved in with Jenni and started getting busy with football, Alba still lived with Mami but was busy with her friends and modelling. Mami did the best she could. She was getting older and more tired, she didn’t miss a game or my last ballet recital, she didn’t miss the disappointment in my eyes when Alexia or Alba didn’t turn up. They were busy, I understand. 

It went from seeing them a couple times a week, to once a week, to once a month. I learnt pretty quickly the only way to get Alexia’s attention was to either play football or to fuck up. Lucky for me I was good at both. School was boring, it was too easy, I understood it all faster than anyone else. The first time I skipped school, I was 14. No one noticed and no one cared. From there on out it became a routine. At least once a week I’d skip school and hang out with the others. 

I personally never did anything too rowdy, just tagged along to enjoy the vibes. The first time I got caught skipping school was by Virginia. She promised me she wouldn’t tell Alexia or Mami and she kept that promise. The next time was by Alba, she lost her shit. Yelling at me about how irresponsible I was being and how much trouble I would get in. The second last time I got caught was by Jenni, I hadn’t seen her in a while, I was mad at her because of that so when she tried to give me a lecture I yelled at her.

“Y/n, you can’t be doing this shit. If Alexia found out she would lose it at you! What would happen if the police got you? What would you do then?”

“Why do you care Jenni? Huh? You left, you haven’t been around. You fucked off to Paris and didn’t even say goodbye. Tell Alexia, I don’t care, at least then she would talk to me.”

“Y/n, did Ale not talk to you about this?” Her voice was incredibly soft. That was something I missed about her, the way she spoke, the softness that was hidden from most people. 

“She doesn’t talk to me at all. She doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

“Bebeita, we broke up. Thats why I left. we ended things and to be able to heal I had to leave. I am so sorry, she promised she would talk to you about it. I wanted to say goodbye to you myself but Alexia said it would be a bad idea.”

From there things spiralled. I didn’t want to talk to Alexia, I didn’t want to see her. I stopped going to her games with Mami, I would sneak out when I knew she was coming over. No longer did I look up to her, I hated her. I wanted nothing to do with her. 

The day I quit football, I felt free. No longer having to play to get my oldest sisters attention, I didn’t care for that anymore. I had more time to hang out with my friends, to be a normal fucking teenager. 

It took a week, it was quicker then I thought to be honest, but once Alexia found out, all hell broke loose. 

“Where the hell is she!” Alexia stormed through the house. Surprising Eli. 

“Who Alexia?” 

“The Idiota. Your mija?” Alexia huffed. Eli was surprised by the way Alexia was acting. 

“In her room with her friend.”  Before Eli could say anything else, Alexia was off. Swinging open the door and disturbing the peace between you and your girlfriend.

“You, get out.” 

“No Alexia. You don’t get to tell her to get out.” I got defensive fast. There’s no way she gets to come here and tell her she needs to leave. 

“GET OUT NOW!” Alexia’s ‘captain’ voice was something that always got people moving. 

“You don’t get to come here and act like you run the place. News flash alexia, you don’t fucking live here!” 

“¡Dios mío! What is happening! Why did Isabella leave crying?” Mami looked pissed. More so at alexia than me. 

“Alexia kicked her out. For no reason other than the fact that no one else is allowed to be happy but her.” 

“Tell her what you did!” When I was younger, the look she was giving me would’ve scared me, but now it did nothing. 

“I didn’t do anything alexia. Whatever your minions are telling you isn’t true. But hey, you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my wrist stopping me from moving. 

“Mami she quit football. She fucking quit. After everything I’ve done for her she throws it back in my face!” Rolling her eyes and scoffing at me. 

“Let her go now. I am aware she quit Alexia. She was only doing it for you.” Mami was mad, very mad. Alexia had come and disturbed the peace, making Isabella cry and screaming the house down. 

“Grab me like that again I’ll drop you on your ass. I don’t give a fuck that you are la Reina.” The words came out like venom. 

Everything is always about Alexia. I joined football to get close to her, I didn’t mean to get as far as I did, I honestly didn’t think I’d get past the academy. Being called up into the Barca B squad was cool. I enjoy the fitness side of it but genuinely couldn’t care less about actually playing. 

The same day I quit, was the same day I got called up for the senior team. It sent me into a bit of a spiral. Mapi found me in the corner of the physios room with my sketchbook, crying. 

“Oh nena! What’s wrong? Do you want me to get Ale?” 

“No! Not ale! Don’t tell her please!”

“Okay no Ale but can you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” 

“I got asked to join the senior team and I don’t want to. I only started playing so Alexia would be nice to me and talk to me. I don’t even like this stupid game! I just want to draw but that’ll never be good enough for her.”  

After that, Mapi and I would get coffee in the mornings, I would show her my new drawings and tell her my ideas. She paid me to draw a photo of her and Ingrid. I knew she could draw herself but it was nice to have her in my corner.  Mapi was talking more about to me Alexia, saying how good my drawings were and how much happier I seemed not having to play, she seemed to miss the confusion written all over Alexia’s face. 

 •———————————————————————•

Mami had a trip coming up, I knew about this, but what I didn’t know what she was going to make me stay with alexia. Isabella and I came home after the movies to find Mami, Alexia, Alba and some other chick sitting at the table. I mumbled a quick hello before trying to drag Isabella upstairs. 

“Don’t be so rude. Actually say hello.” Alexia spoke angrily. 

Scoffing I turned around “bite me Alexia.” 

“¡Dios mío! Isabella Mi vida, it’s time for you to go home. You can wait upstairs for your Mami.” 

“Mami no. That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to come in here and start bossing everyone around!” 

“It’s okay amor, I should go home anyway. We have that biology exam anyway.” 

“Now that your little friend is gone, sit down.” 

“No.” 

“SIT DOWN.” 

“Ale, Cálmate.” The mysterious brunette says as she places her arm on alexia’s. 

Fuck all this shit honestly. Turning as fast as I could I ran upstairs, knowing Alexia would follow quickly. I was right. I was barely able to push my dresser against the door before she tried to open it. I was not going to sit at that table and play happy families. 

After an hour of listening to Alexia curse, she finally gave up. It was peaceful until Alba climbed through my bedroom window. 

“Still got it.” 

“Alba what the hell!” 

“Hermana, I don’t know what happened between you and Ale, but if it’s the same thing that happened between me and you then you need to talk to her. She’s worried about you and scared. She doesn’t want to lose you.” 

“She only cares now that she thinks her precious imagine is going to get hurt.” 

“If you talk to her now, while Olga is here, it’ll be easier. She calms Alexia down and makes her think more rationally.” 

“Who the fuck is Olga?” Was that the mysterious brunette in the dining room?

“What do you mean? She’s alexia’s girlfriend? You’ve met her before?” 

“No I haven’t. I didn’t know she had a girlfriend.” 

“Yes you met her a dinner a few months ago? She comes to Ales games and on Fridays when we have dinner!”

“I wasn’t invited to that dinner, I don’t go to Alexia’s games and I certainly don’t go to Friday dinners!” The angry tears started. Alexia was my hero, my bestfriend, the person I wanted to be and now I’ve been pushed aside. I know nothing about her and she equally knows nothing about me. 

Alba pulled me in tight, letting me cry on her. It was weird doing it with her, she used to be the reason I cried and not the one to comfort me. But here we are, things change I guess. 

“Mami really needs to talk with you so we need to go downstairs.” Begrudgingly I let alba pull me down the stairs. It was obvious to everyone that I had been crying, mami’s face softening when she saw me, Alexia’s face frowning in confusion. 

“You wanted to talk so please do it quickly. I want to go to bed.” I tried to speak as respectfully as I could to Mami, it wasn’t her fault. 

“Mija, I’ll be away for a month, you know this si?” I nodded my head before she continued, “you’re too young to stay here for a month alone so you’re going to stay with Alexia and Olga. You can still see your friends and will go to school, but they will look after you.” 

“Mami no! I can look after myself!” 

“You’re 16 chica. You’re not an adult like you think you are.” Alexia scoffed from the other side of the table. 

“So what? You’re shipping me off to stay with Alexia, who won’t even been there half the time and a stranger? That’s safer? Some person that I’ve never met and sure as shit don’t trust!” 

“Stop being such a Perra! You have met Olga, plenty of times! She comes to all the games she can, and to dinners all the time.” 

“Ale stop” Alba knew what was coming and tried to stop it but it was too late. 

“Dios mío, your head is so far up your own arse isn’t it? I haven’t been to a single game in over 8 months, I don’t get invited to you stupid little Friday night dinners and I have never met your girlfriend! Up until an hour ago I didn’t even know you had a fucking girlfriend Alexia. Everything is always about you. You and your stupid football or your stupid knee. I bet you right now you couldn’t tell me anything about what I’ve done in the last year, can you?” 

“I know you quit football because you’re being a brat.” 

Her answer honestly made me chuckle “Okay Alexia, anything else?” 

Silence. She couldn’t tell you a single thing. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. You know nothing about me and that’s how it’s going to stay. I dont trust you, I don’t like you and I sure as shit don’t love you. You’re not my Hermana.” With hot tears falling down my face, I stormed back upstairs. I text Isabella asking if I could stay over and once she replied with a yes, I was gone. Out the window like Alba had come in an hour earlier. I texted Mami to let her know, I wasn’t that horrible to make her worry. 

“Mami, you can’t let her talk to people like that! She’s incredibly disrespectful!” 

Alba rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Are you serious? That girl used to hang off you. She looked up to you. It was always you alexia and now she wants nothing to do with you. You don’t invite her places, you don’t care about her. I noticed ages ago she was pulling away and I fixed it. Did you know she has a girlfriend? Or that she’s taking senior classes because she’s the smartest there? Or the fact that people are paying her to make them art or buying the pieces she already has. She quit football because she hates it. She hates it because of you. You ruined it for her. Mami, I will stay here with her while you’re gone. It’ll be better that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drop her off at Isabella’s.” 

“No! It’s a school night! She cannot be going out!” It seems everything that was just said to Alexia, went in one ear and out the other. 

“Alexia stop it now. She is allowed to stay at her girlfriend’s house, she has an exam at 1pm. Maybe you need to listen to what people are saying to you. I am going to bed, I suggest you all do the same, at your own houses.” 

“Why does no one listen to me!” Alexia was annoyed, overwhelmed and tired. It had drained a lot of her energy being here tonight. 

“Ale, I’m going to say this one time, you need to listen to what everyone has told you tonight, really listen, because you aren’t. You need to fix things with her but you need to sort your shit out first.” Olga had stayed silent most of the night, listening to everything that was said knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t. You were right, you had never met each other. What Olga didn’t realise was that it was Alexia’s fault, not yours. She put it down to being a moody teenager who was too cool to hang out with her sisters, oh how wrong she was. 

•———————————————————————•

Two days before Mami was meant to go away, Alba rang saying she couldn’t stay over. She had gotten a modelling gig in Madrid and needed to go, that left Alexia and Olga. It would be the longest month of my life. Mami promised nothing would change just because I was staying here, she was wrong. Alexia was a bitch. 

The first few days were fine, alexia would drop me off at school and I’d make my way home after, I generally spend it was Isabella because Alexia wouldn’t let her come over. We go into the city centre, get coffee and do our homework then catch the bus home. We did this even when Mami was here so it wasn’t anything new but when Alexia found out she hit the roof. 

“You cannot be going into the city by yourself! Are you thick in the head?” 

“Jesus Christ alexia! I’m not alone. Isabella is with me. Mami lets me do it so I’m going to keep doing it.” 

“Is Isabella the reason you’re skipping school too?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scoffed, storming off the guest bedroom and slamming the door so hard it made Olga jump. 

By the third day of me being there, Alexia had turned up to pick me up herself. I tried to completely ignore her but Isabella had other ideas. 

“Your sister is death staring me right now.” 

“No amor, not you but me. Oh fuck here we go, she’s coming over here.” 

“Get in the car y/n.”

“No. I told you yesterday that I’m allowed to do this. You’re not the boss of me.” 

“Bebeita, it’s fine. I’ve got chores to do for papa anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed my cheek and then walked away, leaving me no choice but to get in Alexia’s car. 

The car ride was hell. Alexia was pissed, her hands constantly gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckle turned white. Neither of us spoke. To be honest, I didn’t know where we were going until we turned up at the training ground. 

“Why are we here?” 

“We have training. Get out.” 

“No alexia. I quit. What part of that don’t you understand.” 

“Get out now, or I will drag you out.” 

Knowing she would literally drag me out, I had to wait it out. She’d turn her back eventually and I could leg it. I’m faster than her and more willing to jump fences. 

The time came sooner than I thought, after entering the change rooms, she threw a set of clothes into my chest and walked off to the bathrooms. This was my chance and I wasn’t going to waste it. 

Throwing the clothes into her cubby, I legged it out the door. Running past Mapi, Ingrid and Ona who all had confused looked on their faces. As soon as I got out, I kept running, knowing i had to get a head start. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, I knew I couldn’t go back to Alexia’s, Olga would be there. I couldn’t go home because that’s the first place she’d go, I couldn’t go to Albas because she drag me back by my ear. There was only one place to go. 

Can Cuyás Golf Culb was the best place to hide. Sure someone might see me, but it’s easy enough to pretend to be lost. 

The first thing Alexia noticed when she came out was the lack of you. Then the clothes she had given you, thrown back into her cubby. 

“Have you seen y/n?” She asked as she turned to the girls in the locker room. 

“She ran past us like 5 minutes ago?” Ona spoke up. 

“Did she say anything?” 

“No she was in a bit of a hurry Ale.” Mapi rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“Fuck sake.” Alexia exited the locker room, walking through the facility to try and find you. Slight panic kicked in when she wasn’t able too. Deciding to call Alba first, knowing you’d been closer to her the past few months. 

“Hola Ale, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

“Have you seen y/n?” 

“No why? What happened?” Panic arising in Alba. 

“I picked her up from school and bought her to training. Gave her clothes to change into and I went to the toilet and came back and she was gone. She fucking ran off.” 

“Why the hell would you try and make her train Alexia! She quit. She doesn’t want to play anymore!” Alba quickly became anger with the oldest Putellas. 

“She is too good to throw it all away! She’s being a stupid child about all of this!” Quickly becoming defensive, not enjoying the way Alba is talking to her. 

“You’re unbelievable. I haven’t seen her, I will try and find her. Don’t you worry, put your football above her like you always do.” 

“Alba-“ she hung up before alexia could get another word in. There was one person left that Alexia had to call. 

“Hola amor, why aren’t you training?” Olga’s sweet voice sounded through the phone. 

“I’ve lost y/n. Can you please let me know if she comes home and if she does then don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“What do you mean you’ve lost her Ale?” 

“I bought her to training and she ran away while I was in the bathroom.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alexia already knew by the silence on the other end that Olga was trying to not yell at her. 

“Alexia-“

“No I know okay. I already got an ear full from Alba. I have to go but I’ll call you later okay. I love you.” Slowly it started to creep in the fact that she had fucked up and caused you to run away. Training dragged on for Alexia, hoping that you had been found or made contact with Alba or even Olga. 

Meanwhile, after hiding at the golf course for an hour, i decided to head to Isabella’s house. Knocking on the door, Isabella answered, still buttoning up her shirt. Eyes wide when she realised I was at her door. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She closed the door slightly, so I could no longer see into the loungeroom. 

“I ran away from Alexia. I was hoping we could hang out like normal?” 

“Now’s not really a good time. I have someone here.” Isabella spoke quietly, not wanting to allude to the fact that the person inside wasn’t just a friend. 

“Baby come back, we weren’t finished.” A guys voice yelled out. 

“It’s not what you think y/n!” 

“I think that guy wants your attention. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re half dressed. Enjoy your time with him, we are done.” Tears welling in my eyes. 

“I’m sorry y/n!” 

“Go fuck your self Isabella.” sadness turned into anger real quick. 

Isabella was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, the first person I had sex with and she goes and fucks a guy? While we are together? This is literally the last thing I wanted to deal with. 

Unsure on what to do, or who to call I found my way to the beach. My throat and eyes hurt from crying so much. The pain in my chest was getting worse. Pulling out my phone, ignoring all the messages and calls, I rang the one person who would calm me. 

“Hey Calabaza? What’s up?” Jenni’s voice rang through my ears. Unable to form a coherent sentence, only sobs coming out of my mouth. 

“Hold on Bebé” I could hear her moving around, the voices of her teammates getting quieter, “talk to me. What happened?”

“I ran away. I ran away from Alexia and I went to Isabella’s house and she-she was cheating on me. With a guy. A fucking dude. She broke my heart Jenni. It hurts so much.” 

“Oh babé. Where is Ale now? Where are you?” 

“I don’t know. She’s probably at training. I’m at the beach where Papa used to take us. She’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Can you tell me why you ran away from her?” The way Jenni spoke so sweetly was something I missed dearly. 

“She got me from school and took me to the training grounds. She was trying to make me train but when she went to the bathroom I ran away. I don’t want to train, I don’t want to play. I hate the game and I hate her. She doesn’t listen or care about me!” I could feel myself getting upset again. 

“Okay okay, just breathe. You’re okay. I’m not going to tell her where you are but I need to tell someone. Albs has messaged me and so has Olga. You can pick who I tell.” 

Pondering the options, Alba would tell Alexia but she’d also be just as angry and upset. Olga would tell Alexia but she’d be calmer and softer, that was what I needed at this moment. 

“Olga. But tell her not to bring Alexia.” 

“Okay bebé.” After a few moments she spoke up again, “she’s on the way. She promised no Alexia. Do you want to stay on the line with me until she comes?” 

“Yes please. Can you tell me about Mexico?” Sniffling and wiping my face, I got up, walking towards the road to wait for Olga. After 25 minutes, Olga pulled up. A sad smile and worry on her face, she put an arm around me. 

“Is Olga there now?” Jenni asked. 

“Yeah she is. Uh thanks Jenni. Sorry for disturbing you.” Embarrassed about haven taken her time. 

“No bebé, you don’t need to thank me or apologise. We are hermanas no matter what okay. You call me tomorrow when you’re feeling better. I love you.” with that she hung up. Reality slowing sinking it. 

“Let’s get you home yeah? Are you hungry?” Olga smiled sadly at me. 

“No thanks. Just tired.” I mumbled out. 

The drive back to Alexia’s was quiet. When we pulled up, Alexia’s car wasn’t there, meaning she wasn’t home. That was good. Very good. 

“She’s at Albas house. I told her you had messaged me but that I didn’t know where you were yet. It’s a small lie, but I’m sure it’s worth it.” 

“Alexia hates lying.” I said lowly. Thinking back to all those times as a small girl that she yelled at me for lying. 

“I know Pequeño. Do you want to tell me what happened today?” 

“Everyday Isabella and I go into the city and have coffee and do our homework, but today Alexia came to school and got me. She drove us to the training grounds and said I had to train. But I-i quit. I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t enjoy it and only did it for Alexia but it was never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for her.” Olga grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze for me to continue. 

“I went to Isabella’s house and she had someone there. A guy, a guy that she was fucking. She was cheating on me for god knows how long. I thought everything was good with us. She was my first girlfriend and my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to her and she goes and fucks someone else? It just hurts. So much. Everything is hurting so much.” 

“Oh pequeño. Come here.” Olga held me tight, my tears slowly soaking her shirt. 

“Why doesn’t she love me like she loves Alba? I don’t understand.” 

“Alexia?”

“Mhm. Nothing I do is good enough. I just want her to care about me more. Why can’t she?” It broke Olga’s heart hearing me say that. She didn’t know what was happening but she knew Alexia needed to fix it and fast. 

After slowly showering, I thanked Olga and excused myself to bed. I didn’t think I had any tears left to cry but after crying for a while, I managed to pass out. 

 •———————————————————————•

After you went to your room, Olga texted Alexia, telling her she was here and safe. Alba and Alexia both rushed back to her home. Angry and worried at you, ready to both give you an ear full. 

“Where is she Olga?” Alexia came in loudly. 

“Keep your voice down. Both of you.” Olga was very firm. 

“No she’s in trouble. She doesn’t get off lightly, we have been so worried about her.” Alexia sooke back angrily, usually she’d listen to her girlfriend but this had sent her into a rage. 

“Really Ale? You’ve been worried? So worried you couldn’t train right? That you spent all night calling her friends or going to her favourite spots to try and find her?” Olga had had enough. 

“Amor that’s not fair.” 

“No you know what’s not fair? The fact that neither of you have been listening to her. She doesn’t want to play, she did it for you Ale. She wanted to make you proud of her. She hated playing but you wouldn’t know that. She loves to draw, and she’s really really good at it. She showed me all her work.” 

Olga walked to the couch, extremely disappointed with the two women standing in front of her. 

“Her girlfriend cheated on her. She found out this afternoon. She rang Jenni and Jenni messaged me. That’s how I found her. She was at the beach, heartbroken. Then when we got home, she asked why you didn’t love her Ale. She thinks you don’t care about her. That girl may have broke her heart tonight, but you broke her heart first Alexia. You’ll need to live with the fact that you were her first heartbreak.” Olga was exhausted. Neither Alexia Or Alba said anything. Both sitting in opposite ends of the lounge room, tears silently falling. 

Olga excused herself to bed, leaving the older two in the lounge room to mull on their thoughts. She promised herself after your heartbreaking confession that she would have your back through this. Whatever tomorrow held, you would face it together. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

hihiiii can i request some shy ekko 🫶 the scenes of him double taking at powder changed the chemistry in my brain and i just need some shy & smitten ekko 😭

When Ekko found himself alone and deep in his thoughts within the solitude of his room, he’s reminiscing and wondering while tinkering with some spare parts lying about upon his workbench, needing something to occupy his empty hands as they began to go to work.

His thoughts were filled to the brim of you only you and while he hadn’t noticed it earlier, being as busy as he was with going out on missions and being responsible for a whole commune of people who followed his lead with wholehearted faith in him, he finds himself smiling at the moments you two shared away from everything else. You’d drag him away from his duties even if it was for five minutes but to Ekko those five minutes with you were more then needed, and he had you to thank for reminding him that he was only human, reminding him that he can rely on others rather then barring the brunt of the weight himself.

‘You’re making progress Ekko.’ You told him once as you were both watching over the commune high above. ‘It may not show itself right now, progress often doesn’t, it will in due time but what matters is that you’re changing Zaun one step at a time and I couldn’t be prouder of you.’ You finished as you took his hand in your own, intertwining your fingers with his as your thumb caressed his softly.

Ekko remembered being touched by your words, glad to know the had your faith and your pride in him, more then he’d ever admit in that moment as all he could see was you as everything else seemed to fade away. At the time he thought he was happy to have his closest friend help him make sense of the fog within his head, however the way Ekko remembered feeling was akin to that of seeing you for the first time.

You were the person he suffered scrapped knees with, bruises with and minor injuries with, only for you to merely laughed them off all the while patching him up. You dared to laugh and smile in the face of fear as you gripped his hand tight, only letting him know of your true fear and hopelessness in the off chance of great adversary. Ekko was the only person you trusted to have your back and he reciprocated those feelings, trusting you with his own life without hesitation. For that was how your relationship with him was built upon trust, respect and loyalty for as long as Ekko could remember, as it had always been you and him in his eyes.

And it will always be you and him until the end, a promise made way back when he shared his vision for Zaun’s future with you on a star lit night.

‘How about this, I’ll promise to help you to bring Zaun to a better place for you, for me, for everyone we help in the future and those who’ll carry the fight long after your dream comes true.’ You tell him as you presented him with your pinky and he playfully scoffs. ‘Pinky promises? Are you five?’ He asks and you nudge him in the side, pushing your pinky finger closer to him.

‘Are you going to continue to make fun of me or take me up on my promise?’ You replied and once again Ekko could only see you, even the stars seemed to frame you perfectly so that he was forced to keep his eyes on you, at a loss for words as he takes in how naturally you looked right then and there before he linked his pinkie with yours.

‘Deal.’ He said as he felt his body become warm upon seeing you beam brightly, your pinky tightening on his.

‘Ekko.’ Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and his tinkering as he looked over at you, the emotions he felt when reminiscing about your shared past only seemed to be amplified upon seeing you; You weren’t wearing anything ingesting in particular, just your usual attire and his coat that you had stolen from him that very morning, much to Scar’s silent amusement.

Ekko would use the excuse that you’d always stole his clothes whenever Scar tried to gauge just what you were to him, and while that was true Ekko didn’t mind the sight he got whenever you stole off of him, it left a warmth within his chest that he wanted to experience for as long as he could before going back to being leader. A memory that he engraved in his head countless times and yet the sight of you in his coat never fails to make him take a double take at you, feeling that warmth spread throughout his chest as a soft smile graced his lips, he just couldn’t tear his beautiful eyes away from you even if he tried.

‘You okay there boy wonder? Seems like you’ve lost your tongue there.’ You add lightheartedly as you walked further into his room, stopping just when you were beside him, instinctively resting your hand upon his shoulder and squeezing it like you always did when you felt he needed a bit of comfort.

Ekko’s smile widens as he looked back at what he had been making the entire time his head was elsewhere, not wanting you to see what he could only assume was the look of a lovesick boy upon his face, only to see that he had made what looked like something a man deep in love would make with his eyes closed.

It was a forget me not flower.

You raised a brow. ‘You making flowers now Ekko?’ Your voice once again sliced through the silence as he looks at his creation, remembering what you had said those flowers in particular represented; remembrance, devotion, a vow to remember a love that will never be forgotten or lost to time. It was the perfect flower to represent his own feelings towards you but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to give it to you just yet, whether it’s be a rare feeling of shyness or the idea that one flower wasn’t enough to give to you when you deserved a bouquet of them, whichever it was or even both Ekko still wasn’t quite sure wha to lead with.

‘ I guess I am, maybe I should open up shop and start making more of these instead.’ He tries to joke back but the sudden sheepish feeling within his chest made it seem forced, his eyes kept flickering towards you then back to the flower, then back to you again to gauge your feelings through your eyes.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You said softly as you silently asked if you could reach for it, only to have him gesture with his head for you to take it from him.

‘Just like you then.’ Ekko murmured under his breath.

‘What was that?’ You looked to him and Ekko’s eyes went back down to his workbench, his cheeks aflame as he internally fights with himself to say something, after all being this uncharacteristic was only going to send you the wrong message since you were that good in reading him.

‘Nothing, you were imaging things again.’ He shrugged, hoping you’d reply with a sarcastic laugh or something, but you didn’t and before he knew what was going on you were kneeling next to him with concern shining in your eyes. ‘Ekko.’ You say lowly, making him swallow thickly as his eyes lingered on your lips, liking the way his name sounded coming through them. ‘What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.’ You continued as your eyes scoured his face for potential answers for your concern, moving your hand from his shoulder to hold his cheek instead, stroking it.

The feelings were killing Ekko at this point and you being as close as you were to him didn’t help one bit, especially not when he found himself resting his head against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed you in. Forehead touches weren’t something you were deprived of, no you and Ekko touched foreheads often as it was the biggest sign of affection a zaunite could give to one another, but this felt different then the others times in a way that made your heart sing. ‘Ekko?’ You asked again.

‘I’m fine.’ He says in a soft voice, ‘more than fine really.’ He adds as he opens his eyes to look into your own, giving you a sheepish but boyish smile.

You furrowed your brows as you lifted your pinky. ‘Promise?’ You replied and Ekko couldn’t help but chuckle and bring his pinky to interlock with yours, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘Promise, if I had something on my mind I will tell you first.’ He tells you, not liking the fact that he was keeping his truest feelings from you but he didn’t know what else he could do in that moment, he was tripping over his own words and everything as his mind was trying to convey a few simple words that his heart had been feeling for far longer then he had recognised.

He’d tell you how he felt for you soon as he watched you walk out of his room before burring his head into his hands, just not yet. He runs his hands down his face, only to stop in his tracks when he remembers that you still have the forget me not flower he made, never once giving it back to him almost as if you were under the pretended that it was made with you in mind; well it was but was he really that obvious? Could you read him that well? All these questions only made Ekko groan in annoyance, damming himself for suddenly becoming a shy, smitten kitten whenever you were near.

He’d get the words out…sooner or later.

[aquaticmercy]

Getaway

Summary : No one knows Bucky is dating an F1 driver until you show up in a getaway car for mission extraction.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x F1 Driver!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : cursing. Very dangerous driving in public roads. Purely self-indulgent fic. Features Alexei and John and I mentioned a couple of current F1 drivers too. I mention that Bucky is a congressman.

Word count : 2.3k

Note : I loved writing Bucky x motogp rider! Reader so here’s an F1 driver one! I mentioned that you drive the red car but please change that one bit to any F1 team you please! Enjoy!

“Where the hell is he?” You muttered to yourself, glancing at the clock for the fifth time tonight.

As a competitive racing driver, your life was dictated by speed and precision, every moment had to be accounted for— races, press conferences, team strategy meetings, all for the unforgiving pursuit of shaving milliseconds off lap times. There was no margin for error, and spontaneity was a foreign concept to you. Every hour of your day was meticulously planned, every muscle fine-tuned for high performance.

But today was the start of a rare gift: a week off at the end of the season, the first time you have had a chance to relax in three weeks. 

You had a solid plan: Sleep until noon. Raid the kitchen. Binge the most mindless TV show you could find. Most importantly, you were going to drag your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, into the couch and force him to relax with you.

It was a great plan, except for the fact that Bucky rarely, if ever, followed plans.

He said something vague about a recon mission that he refused to elaborate on. You were used to these classified jobs by now, but it did not make spending time apart any easier, especially when you’d been fantasising about cuddling all night. Instead, you found yourself alone, half-buried in an avalanche of pillows, scrolling aimlessly through your phone.

You’d spent most of the afternoon texting Charles an absurd number of dog videos. When that got old, you attempted the long list of FIFA tips Lando had sent you last week. 

The hours started to bleed into one another. He had promised he'd be back for dinner at 9. You’d even confirmed it twice, since you knew your boyfriend had the schedule-keeping skills of a goldfish when it came to missions.

It was 8:45 PM now… and nothing. Not a text. Not a call. 

You sighed, staring at the half-empty bag of chips on your lap. Maybe you should’ve made him pinky-promise this time— he never broke a pinky-promise.

8:52 PM. Still nothing. 

You tapped your fingers against the coffee table, glaring at the ticking clock. The smoothie you’d grabbed from the fridge sat half-finished in front of you. Sighing, you downed the rest of it in one go. 

8:59 PM. That’s it. He’s going to be late. Again. 

You kicked your feet up on the couch, trying your hardest not to check your phone for the hundredth time. 

Maybe he’d gotten caught up in whatever Hydra splinter faction decided they were going to take over the world now. Maybe he’d stopped to grab takeout as a peace offering? 

9:02 PM. The phone buzzed against the cushion beside you. Bucky's name flashed on the screen, and despite being annoyed, a lazy smile formed at your lips as you answered.

"Hey, babe," you mumbled the greeting.

"Hey, doll." You expected a lovely low drawl, but instead, his tone was… urgent. 

You bolted upright, your smile fading. "What's wrong?"

"We… uh, need an extraction."

"An extraction?" You repeated in disbelief. "Bucky, it's my weekend off. Do you know how rare that is?"

"I know," he said quickly, guilt creeping in his tone. "but this isn’t exactly a ‘call an Uber’ situation. Me, Alexei, and Walker are in a bit of a... tight spot."

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your 

“There are hostiles closing in and we have no clear exit.”

Of course. Of course, this is how your first night of relaxation would end. You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply. "You’re serious right now."

“…yes"

You were already up, reaching for the keys on the coffee table. 

Starting an argument would be pointless. You knew you were going to help him no matter how irritated you were. You loved him, and you would want him to come back home in one piece. He’s already lost an arm— maybe he shouldn’t be losing any more limbs. Besides, you were the best driver he knew (apparently). You were the only one he trusted to get them out of whatever trouble they’d found themselves in.

“I swear to God, Bucky, you owe me so much for this,” you yanked on your jacket from its testing spot.

“You’re the best, doll,” he said before you heard a couple of gunshots in the background. “I’ll text you the coordinates. Just hurry, okay? And, uh... maybe bring the fast car."

You snorted, already heading for the garage. 

The line disconnected with a soft click after exchanging quick I love yous.

You weren’t a soldier, or a spy, or any of the other ridiculous things that he seemed to be. You were just a driver— a damn good one, sure, but still just a driver. And yet, somehow, you’d become his go-to getaway driver for dangerous missions.

—

Twenty minutes later, you pulled up in your black car, the engine purring beneath you like a predator waiting to pounce. A street lamp flickered nearby as you waited anxiously. You got here early, of course, and not a single super soldier was in sight. 

Soon, you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire and shouting in the distance.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, adrenaline coursing through your veins like a lightning strike as soon as you spotted them. Bucky, Alexei Shostakov, and John Walker were sprinting toward you at full tilt, dodging a rain of bullets. Behind them, four people in tactical gear closed in. 

"Get in!" you shouted, already yanking the gearshift into drive as Bucky yanked open the front door.

The car rocked slightly as they piled in, two supersoldiers cramming into the cabin with varying degrees of grace. Alexei nearly squashed Walker in the backseat as Bucky slammed the door shut beside you.

"Floor it!" Bucky barked. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

Tires screeched against the asphalt as you drove the car forward, the narrow alley blurring past.

"Are they still on us?" You asked, your voice as calm as if you were an engineer delivering race updates over the radio.

"Oh, they’re definitely on us!" Walker shrieked from the backseat, "And they don’t look happy!"

You yanked the wheel hard to the right, darting down another alleyway. The car responded as if it was an extension of your body, gliding through the tight turns with a needle-threading precision that had Alexei clutching the door handle like his life depended on it.

Slowly, Walker turned his attention to you. He squinted, his brow furrowing.

"Wait a second," he said, pointing a finger at you. "You look really familiar."

"Focus, Walker," Bucky snapped, his hands gripping the dashboard as you narrowly avoided a curb.

"No, no!" Walker pressed, leaning forward against his seatbelt. "I’ve seen you somewhere before. You’re an F1 driver, aren’t you? I saw you win at Monza last year!"

"Ha! She is famous!” Alexei let out a booming laugh, “The one with the red car, yes? Always so fast!"

"Yes, I drive the red car," you said flatly, jerking the wheel again to narrowly avoid a streetlamp. The car fishtailed for a split second before you corrected it with a smooth turn that left Walker white-knuckling his seatbelt. 

"Wait, wait, wait," Walker stammered, his voice rising an octave. "How did you end up being a getaway driver for Barnes?”

Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "She’s my girlfriend, John."

His jaw dropped. "Your girlfriend…  is a fucking Formula One driver?"

"Yes," you interjected before Bucky could answer. "And being Bucky’s getaway driver is my very secret, very exclusive part-time job. Do not get used to it."

“Barnes finds the best woman!” Alexei roared with laughter, his voice filling the car as bullets pinged off the bumper. “Smart and fast! Much better than you, Walker!"

Walker ignored him, still staring at you like you’d just dropped out of the sky. "Do you even know what you’re doing right now?"

You shot him a look in the rearview mirror, "I’ve done Monaco," you said coolly, "This is nothing."

As if to prove your point, you turned the wheel hard to the left, sending the car into a controlled drift around a corner, leaving the hostiles scrambling to keep up as they tried to follow your line.

"Hold on," Bucky warned, bracing himself as you swerved into oncoming traffic. Horns blared and headlights flashed, but you weaved between cars like it was a practice lap.

Walker made a strangled noise from the backseat which made Bucky chuckle.

"We’ve lost at least half of them," you said, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

"See? She is professional!” Alexei said, too first for his own good, “Much better than your driving, Walker."

"Shut it," Bucky snapped, turning to look at you. "How’s it looking, doll?"

Glancing in your mirrors, you spotted the black SUVs flanking you on both sides, their intentions unmistakable. You didn’t flinch.

"Hang on," you said, your tone as steady as the hum of the engine beneath you.

Without hesitation, you veered hard. You cut into a narrow alleyway— it was so tight, sparks flew as the mirror scraped against the walls. 

"Are you insane?!" John shouted, gripping the oh-shit handle like his life depended on it.

The alley spat you out onto a bustling main road. You didn’t hesitate, slamming the accelerator and weaving into the stream of traffic with the kind of confidence only years of experience behind the wheel could provide. 

"Hostiles still on us!" Bucky shouted, turning to look behind. He rolled down the passenger-side window, drawing his gun.

"Are you seriously shooting out the window now?" you asked, jerking the wheel to avoid decapitating your boyfriend on a delivery truck.

"You’d rather I let them catch us?" he shot back, leaning out and firing a few rounds at the nearest SUV, talking out a mirror.

“You didn’t tell me your girlfriend was this fun, Barnes!" Alexei bellowed. "How come you never told us about her?!"

Bucky groaned, firing off another shot that took out a tire on one of the vehicles. The SUV spun out, crashing into a lamppost. "Because I knew you idiots would embarrass me."

"Embarrass you?!" Alexei boomed. "You should be bragging! She is skilled!”

"Do the public know about this?" John suddenly asked, "I mean, a congressman dating an F1 driver? How does that not make headlines?"

"No, they don’t know," you replied sharply, swerving to avoid another hostile trying— and failing— to flank you. "We’re private people. Besides, between Bucky’s PR training and mine, we know how to deflect questions."

As you spoke, another hostile SUV tried to block your path, but you didn’t slow down. Instead, you clipped the corner of its bumper, sending it spinning out of control as you drove past.

"You’re insane!" Walker shouted as you weaved through an intersection at dangerous speed, narrowly avoiding a truck and leaving the remaining pursuers piling on top of each other.

"And yet, we’re still alive," you quipped, your voice calm.

With a final sharp turn, you left the city streets behind and drove down a secluded road.

As gravel crunched beneath the tires, you skidded to a stop in the parking lot of the safehouse.

Walker unbuckled his seatbelt, his face pale. "Excuse me while I go throw up now." He stumbled out of the car, heading toward the bushes with a hand pressed to his stomach.

"Lightweight," Alexei muttered, shaking his head as he climbed out.

Bucky shifted in the passenger seat, his metal arm resting on the back of yours. You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused any attempt at eye contact.

“Doll,” he began cautiously, the world eerily silent except for Alexei’s exaggerated laugh— most likely bullying Walker for getting sick.

“Don’t,” you snapped, still staring straight ahead. “You promised. Dinner at nine. Promised, Bucky. Do you know what that word means?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” He sighed, leaning back, his other hand running through his hair. “But come on, that drive was flawless. You’re amazing. Saved all our asses back there.”

You glanced at him, arching a curious eyebrow. “Flattery is not going to get you out of this.”

“But it was flawless,” he insisted, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You had Walker screaming like a little kid on a roller coaster.”

Your mouth curved into a shy smile, even as you tried your hardest not to show it. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Bucky chuckled, nodding at how excited you get at a perfectly executed performance. “You know what? I’ll make it up to you,” He leaned closer, “I’ll go with you to the paddock during testing. We’ll sneak around, like old times? George can cover for us if security come looking for unauthorised personnel again.”

You wanted to stay mad. You really, really did. But fuck him— his smooth talking and his broody charm. Fuck that stupid grin of his that made your heart do somersaults. And most of all, fuck the way his hand reached out to brush a lock of hair from your face.

Before you could think twice, you leaned in, pressing his lips on yours. His hand slid to your neck, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but smile into the embrace, letting yourself get lost in the way he tasted— gunpowder and vanilla and all the addicting things that make him… Bucky.

“Okay, seriously?” came a loud voice from outside the window, interrupting the moment.

You both froze, breaking apart just as Walker’s still-pale face appeared, his forehead pressed against the glass.

“Head in the safehouse,” he said, waving his arms dramatically. “We’re waiting this out for the night. You can suck each other’s faces off in there. God.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes before kissing your boyfriend again, not caring at all if John Walker was watching.

-end.

[helluvathings]

Satan and the Nature of the Deadly Sins

First note: Viv has confirmed that Satan is lying.

But I do have thoughts on where the lie here is, and what's being said or implied about the Sins. Because even accounting for the falsehood, I actually think this does strongly hint that the Sins aren't angels, and have been part of Hell from the start: presumably created when Eve ate the apple and humans gained free will, leading to sin, implicitly leading to "the Sins."

Note, Satan talks about an endless dark, "long before" Lucifer fell. He's making himself out to be a primordial entity that preexisted Lucifer and Hell's current system by a substantial margin. As if way, way back when, Satan was "in charge." If the Hazbin creation story is accurate, Hell existed without Lucifer for the duration of time it took him to be banished. We don't know how long this was, but presumably it wasn't that much time.

We also have Ozzie saying he knew Mammon "from the start of Hell." I've seen people theorize that this can fit the fallen angel theory, and he's referring to how they all met when Lucifer rebelled, but there's been so little indication that there was a big rebellion in heaven previously—as opposed to Lucifer getting kicked out for the sole act of the apple/trying to institute change as an individual—that there doesn't seem to be much evidence for additional angels having been punished. (In Hazbin, Sera warns Emily she might end up like Lucifer, citing him as an individual). It'd also be an awkward way to phrase it (something like "from before our Fall" would work better in that case). Ozzie's words in 2x07 imply, I'd argue, a common origin point, and that he and Mammon began at the same time in the same place. Which fits the Hazbin story (Eve -> apple -> free will -> sin/Hell -> Sins). It even matches with Bee saying Satan is like a brother. Common origin, but not technically related.

In which case, there possibly was endless darkness like Satan mentioned. But also, likely not much to rule, or much time for Satan to do so before Lucifer fell, when Lilith took over and structured Hell into what it is today. Given there would've been confusion and a lack of order, it likely would've been chaotic and undeveloped (Lilith being the as-of-now-canonical reason things shaped up). Satan, implied as the strongest, maybe would've scrounged up a semblance of power, but a) not for long, and b) not over anything substantial. Hence, this look from Ozzie and Bee:

But what really stands out to me is the way Satan refers to Lucifer, and the way Lucifer is separated out from the other Sins on the whole. Calling him "the golden angel" and referring to "his fall" as a distinct event separate from Satan himself does make it seem like Lucifer was something foreign that came crashing in. Note how Lucifer still looks like his angelic self. Notably, the very distinctive angel's wings none of the other Sins possess. Being a fallen angel is a massive part of his character, his motivations, his actions and beliefs. It dyes every part of who he is. On the door to the courtroom, Lucifer's angelic wings and nature are dominant in his symbol's design, and he's placed above the other Sins, whose designs revolve around their sin, or prominent physical features.

It could be argued that the others got over the Fall better, or were different classes of angels (so look different after being punished). But it's a factor that's so absent from their backstory or characterization that it'd almost undermine Lucifer's struggle to have something that colors his whole existence be totally irrelevant to the other fallen angels. I get the impression more so that Lucifer's angelic nature actually stands out, and might be one reason he feels so isolated, especially after his divorce. If he had six people who'd gone through the same trauma, he'd have something. If he's instead forced to brush elbows with and work alongside six demons that symbolize his ultimate failure, and who resulted directly from his actions with the apple, that's more complicated. Again, Satan calling him "the golden angel" makes it see like he's separating angels as something other. And "the angel's fall" is another separation. Satan lying about that part doesn't serve much purpose; if anything, if he was a fallen angel too, he could assert himself as the one who stepped up while Lucifer crashed and burned.

Instead, Satan attempts to distinguish himself from Lucifer in this entirely different way, by framing himself as something far, far more deeply rooted in Hell, older and better. It's not just an 'I'm the strongest' bluff, but there's an attempt to establish himself as the one who's always been here. And I'm thinking, when Viv says Lucifer has always been "first," she means in terms of hierarchy. Where it leaves room for the Sins to have been created as part of Hell, but Satan's lie comes from asserting the "a long time" and that he'd ever been in charge. It feels more natural to assume that Satan is doubling down and exaggerating his past authority, but not lying about his origin.

Final note: it is canon that Lucifer inadvertently created Hell, and was thrown into the pit he created. Also, confirmed that Ozzie has known Mammon since the "start of Hell." While there's a chance Ozzie is using hyperbole: it's framed like Hell was, in some form, around at least a short time before Lucifer showed up. And that Ozzie and Mammon were present. Unless there are wordplay shenanigans involved, discounting Satan's words to the extent it butts against that established timeline is probably throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Summing it up: I've seen a few reactions to Viv's post about Satan implying that it doesn't make sense with previous lore or that things aren't adding up, but I think that view overestimates how much of what Satan is saying is actually false. He's bullshitting being a primordial god-like power for sure, which fits Ozzie and Bee rolling their eyes. I think if he was lying about the whole creation story altogether, they'd have been less 'shut up, wtf,' and more visibly confused. Of course future episodes could disprove all of this, but my impression is that the way Satan referred to Lucifer and his presence in Hell actually solidifies that he (and the others) aren't fallen angels, and his "for a long time before" thing being untrue is actually a mark in favor of the Hazbin creation story being at least mostly canonical (since it wasn't a long time; he probably had like two weeks to try flexing), as opposed to proof against it.

Also maybe sets up Satan having a quiet rivalry with Lucifer or at least pushing his authority? I think it might be very relevant that Satan goes the route of I've always been here when he's trying to set himself above and apart, and that he points out Lucifer falling in as an outsider. That might just be speculation, but that framing feels intentional.

[katsu28]

comfort

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: bad days are inevitable. luckily, you've got george to come home to, who always knows just what to do to make those days a little bit better. (2k)

warnings: george is the sweetest boyfriend to ever exist, an ungodly amount of fluff. literally just pure fluff. i think i got a cavity writing this actually!

a/n: this one's for the lovely @postracehair, who has successfully converted me into a george girl <3

You should’ve known the kind of day you’d have when you slept right through your alarm this morning. 

From then on, the hits just kept on coming. No time for breakfast, morning rush hour traffic adding forty five minutes to your usual twenty minute commute, upcoming deadlines at work with projects nowhere near done and coworkers who can’t tell apples from oranges. 

By the time you manage to clock out of work and head home, you’re dead on your feet.

You drive home in complete silence, knuckles tight on the wheel, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep the tears threatening to fall at bay. All you need to do is make it home in one piece, and then you can break down, if that’s what it’ll take to put the horrors of today behind you. 

The first thing you notice as you push open the front door when you finally get home is a pair of shoes tucked off to the side in the entryway, a set of keys in the bowl on the little table.

George is home early. 

Relief washes over you at the realization. After the shit day you’ve had, seeing George sooner than you thought you’d get to is your saving grace. 

You trudge further into the flat, towards the living room where you can hear something on TV.

Your boyfriend is sprawled out across the couch watching a rerun of some old football match, but pauses it to focus his attention on you as soon as he hears you moving around behind him. You toss your bag onto the floor, your phone on top of that, rounding the couch slowly. 

“Hey, you’re home!” He exclaims, smiling warmly. “I was just thinking of starting dinner, what d’you think of—” You flop on top of him before he can finish his sentence, face planting directly into his chest without a word. “Oh! Hello there.” 

Despite his surprise, George’s arms wrap around you without hesitation, cocooning you nicely in his warmth. 

He smells like the fancy fabric softener you keep on the top shelf of the laundry room, and body wash you think might be yours rather than his, fresh and clean and so achingly familiar it brings you some much needed comfort right now. You inhale deeply, letting yourself melt against George’s sturdy frame. 

“Bad day?” He asks, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

You huff out a humorless chuckle. “The worst.” 

“Sorry to hear that, my love,” He murmurs. “What can I do to help?” 

“Build a time machine?” 

George’s chuckle vibrates through his chest. “I’m afraid that’s one thing I can’t do. But what I can do is make dinner while you wash up and change into something comfier. Sound good?” 

“Sounds perfect,” You mutter with a sigh. “In five minutes.” 

He laughs again and you scoot yourself a little higher up, finding that perfect cozy spot between the hard plane of his shoulder and the side of his neck for your chin to nestle in. George curls an ankle around yours, patting around for the remote to resume the match he has on. 

He’ll do his thing while you soak in his presence, that’s usually how things go on nights when you’re both home. 

Five minutes ends up turning into a lot longer, because by the time you manage to muster the energy to even think about getting up, the match is long over and the TV is off. George still lies perfectly content underneath you, long fingers stroking down your spine gently. 

“I stink,” You say bluntly. George snorts. 

“Do you? I didn’t even notice,” He muses, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“That’s such a lie.” 

He has the audacity to look completely and overdramatically bewildered. “What? I would never lie to you. You smell wonderful.” 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I’m going to go shower now.” On your way up off him, you dot a kiss to his lips that takes him by surprise and makes him follow after you, chasing to keep that contact until you push him back down onto the couch with a gentle hand. Even then, he wraps his fingers around your wrist loosely to stop you leaving. “Try not to miss me too much?” 

“Darling, you’re asking the impossible of me,” He chides, letting his head tilt to the side. He looks up at you through his lashes, ocean eyes twinkling in a very enticing invitation for you to stay. 

As appealing as having another cuddle with your boyfriend sounds, a hot shower calls your name even more. You kiss his cheek this time. “Do your best, darling.” 

You don’t catch whatever George grumbles after you on your way to the bathroom, but knowing him, it isn’t anything outrageous. 

George’s self care collection sits meticulously organized on one side of the sink in the bathroom, a total juxtaposition to the mess of yours over on the other. In a way, you suppose it does well to describe the way you both are in real life. 

The stream of nearly scalding water does a wonderful job at starting to soothe the ache in your tense shoulders the moment you step under it, raining down on you like something heaven sent. You could stay in here forever if you wanted to. 

The bathroom door swings open while you’re washing the conditioner out of your hair, then you hear George’s voice. “Not looking! Not peeping in on you, just wanted to drop off a fresh towel.” 

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” You say from behind the wall of hot steam fogging up the glass doors. Through it, you can vaguely make out him with a hand over his eyes, blindly navigating where to put the towel with the other hand. It makes you laugh. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before!” 

George lets out something between an approving hum and a click of his tongue. Finally, his searching hand finds the bar of the door, carefully draping the fluffy material over it. “I popped it in the dryer for a bit. Should still be warm when you finish.” 

Something warm thrums in your chest at the thought of George taking enough care to go that one step further and make sure you have a warm, fresh towel waiting for you. 

“Love you!” You say gratefully. You can almost picture the happy little smile on his face at your words. 

“Love you. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything else.” He’s gone soon after that, but still lingers in your mind as you finish up. George is always on your mind. 

Once you’re out of the shower and wrapped in the toasty towel, you wander to find some clothes, beelining straight for George’s side of the closet to find your favorite jumper of his, the soft one he usually wears on long flights. It still smells like him when you put it on. 

You pull the sleeves over your hands on your way out to join him in the kitchen. Soft music pours from the speaker next to his phone, filling the flat with his easy listening playlist. He likes to play that one on flights too, sometimes so often that you’ve come to associate the songs with him. 

George hasn’t noticed you yet, and you take the opportunity to just watch him do his thing. 

He has that ‘Kiss the Chef’ apron you’d gotten him as a joke a few years ago tied around his waist, kitchen towel draped over his shoulder as he scoops whatever food he’s made into two bowls. His shoulders do a little shimmy along to the beat of the song like an absolute fool, and it makes you smile, because he’s your fool. 

You get to love him and all the things he does—big and small. Doing the most to make you feel better after a terrible day, and dancing terribly in the kitchen when nobody is watching. Both describe loving George Russell perfectly. 

It isn’t until he does a half turn for his big finish at the end of the song that he spots you leaned up against the wall and nearly jumps a foot into the air in surprise. 

“Blimey!” He exclaims, pressing a hand over his heart. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” 

“I wasn’t sneaking! You just didn’t see me.” 

“I ought to put a bell on you one of these days.” 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Eh, food for thought.” George shrugs, shedding his apron. “Speaking of food, dinner’s ready.” He pushes one of the bowls towards you.

At first, you’re not sure what you’re looking at. Then, slowly, realization dawns on you. 

He’s made your favorite meal from your childhood, the dish your mum used to make every time you needed that extra bit of comfort after a not so great day. 

There’s that feeling in your chest again, that gooey warmth spreading from behind your ribcage up your neck and to your cheeks at the thought of just how much George cares. About you, about the little things he can do to make you feel better.

He always takes care of you, even if you don't ask. You don't need to ask. George knows what you need without you even having to say a word. 

“Georgie, how…” You trail off, at a loss for words. “How’d you know?” 

“I got the recipe from your mum the last time we had dinner with your parents,” He admits sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She said it was your favorite. That it always made you feel better when you were a kid. I thought it might come in handy for days like these.” 

“You asked my mum how to make my favorite meal.” It isn’t a question so much as a statement that confirms what’s already been said. It takes a second time for it to really sink in. 

“I did, yeah. It might not be exactly the way she makes it, but I gave it my best go. Give it a try, maybe? Tell me if I did good?” 

He watches you carefully as you take a bite, smiling hopefully as you chew. It tastes exactly the same as you remember, and for some reason, it draws up a lump in your throat.

“It’s perfect,” You say softly. 

George beams, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself. “Thought maybe we could eat and watch the sunset. I know how much you love the pretty ones.” He juts his chin over towards where your dining room table overlooks the Monte Carlo cityscape, and you follow his line of sight to see it already set up with place settings and candles. 

The sun is just starting to go down, blues and pinks and oranges all swirling together into a beautiful view over the water. George is right. You’re a total sucker for a good sunset, and this one is absolutely gorgeous. 

You don’t even notice the tears welling in your eyes until George does. 

“Oh goodness! Are you crying?” He asks, borderline frantic. He’s quick to fold you into another hug just in case he’s upset you, when in reality the opposite is true. These are happy tears, grateful tears, what did I ever do to deserve you tears. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” 

“No. No, it’s perfect,” You say again, smoothing your palms over his shoulders. He lets out a visible sigh of relief. “George Russell, you are such a cheesy romantic.” 

George laughs, something clear and bright, your favorite sound in the world. “What can I say? You just bring it out in me.” 

“I love you,” You murmur, voice muffled into the fabric of his sweater. His lips press into your hairline to drop a kiss there. “Thank you for all this.” 

“It’s the least I could do to put a smile back on that lovely face of yours.” 

“What, this old thing?” You joke, beaming up at him. You’re not looking for a kiss, but he gives you one anyway, and hey—who are you to deny either of yourselves the pleasure? 

“Prettiest face I’ve ever had the privilege of making smile again.” 

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[eu-nicola]

not yours part 2

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: nothing i think

word counter: 9057

author’s note: english is not my first language and how I love to use movie quotes, please please tell me if you want to be on my taglist as I'm going to make a new one

tags: @immyowndefender @xcinnamonmalfoyx @wtfdudesblog

The night had started off quiet, too quiet for your liking. You had met up with some friends at the usual club, but soon everything became monotonous. Loud music, laughter, a few interested glances from boys you didn't care about... Nothing new. You were used to standing out, to getting attention, and today you felt a latent need for something different, something that would get you out of that routine. What you didn't expect was that the night would take an unexpected turn and that you would end up running next to Rafe Cameron, with your heart beating a thousand miles an hour.

It all started with a simple misunderstanding. A group of unknown boys approached you at the bar, insisting on drinks and comments that went from flattering to annoying in a matter of minutes. At first, you tried to ignore them, but one of them didn't get the message. His hand rested on your arm with too much confidence, pulling you as if he had the right to do so.

"Let me go," you said firmly, looking him straight in the eyes.

The boy laughed, as if your words had no weight, and continued to insist. You didn't like being treated like that, as if you were just another one they could manipulate at will. You were about to let go when Rafe appeared out of nowhere, as if he had been observing the situation from afar. His mere presence changed the dynamic in an instant.

"Do you have a problem?" Rafe asked, his tone calm but full of tension, as if he was already ready for anything.

The boys looked at him, assessing him. Rafe didn't need to say much to command respect; he was the kind of person who could make someone doubt with just his gaze. But this time, the boys decided not to back down.

"It's none of your business, buddy," one of them replied, defying the calm that still remained in the atmosphere.

And then, everything exploded.

What followed was a succession of quick movements, blows and pushes. Rafe was the first to attack, with a precision that made it clear that it was not his first fight. You, though surprised, weren't far behind. You'd always had that explosive side, that energy that made you face things without thinking twice. One of the boys got too close and without hesitation, you pushed him back with more force than he expected.

Chaos broke out. The music was still playing in the background, mixing with the screams and the sound of glasses falling to the floor. Adrenaline was running through your veins. You weren't scared; you were alive, more alive than you had felt in days.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over. The boys were either on the ground or far enough away that you wouldn't try again. You and Rafe barely looked at each other, there was just an exchange of quick glances and the urgent need to disappear.

"Let's go," he said, taking your hand without waiting for an answer.

And you ran with him, leaving the club as if you were escaping a fire. Laughter began to bubble in your chest as they ran through the dark streets, away from the chaos they had left behind. Rafe, always so serious and controlled, was laughing too, that sincere laugh he rarely showed. It was contagious, and before you knew it, you were both cracking up.

“What the hell was that?” you asked between laughs, finally stopping in a dark alley where no one could see you.

Rafe leaned against the wall, still breathing heavily. His face was illuminated by the distant lights, and for a second you realized how rare it was to see him like this, so relaxed, so… human.

“What we do best, I guess,” he replied, running a hand through his messy hair. There was a spark in his eyes, an emotion that mirrored yours.

You leaned against him, breathing deeply as you tried to calm yourself. The silence between the two of you was comfortable, a pause amidst all the adrenaline.

“You know?” you finally said, turning your head to look at him. “It was fun.”

Rafe let out a soft laugh, tilting his head at you.

“Do you like getting into trouble?” he asked you with a lopsided grin.

“No more than you do,” you replied with a wink.

After a few more minutes, Rafe straightened up.

“We better get moving before someone finds us,” he said, holding out his hand to you.

You took it without hesitation, letting him lead you back to his car. The engine roared as they drove away from the place, and you, with the window open and the wind hitting your face.

A few minutes later Rafe’s car stopped in front of your house after a ride in which both of you had remained silent. But it wasn’t awkward.

“Well, here we are, princess pogue,” Rafe said with a crooked smile, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye as he turned off the engine.

You laughed softly and turned to him, leaning your elbow on the car door. That nickname had something of a mockery to it, but it didn’t bother you. If there was one thing you had learned in all this time with him, it was that this mix of sarcasm and humor was part of his charm.

“I know. So exotic, so out of your perfect world, right?” you joked, faking an arrogant expression while you looked at your nails, as if you were the queen of the entire Outer Banks.

Rafe let out a laugh, one you had rarely heard from him, deep and sincere.

“I almost feel like I should ask you for an autograph before you enter your mansion.”

“Sure. But I would charge you… and I don’t think I would be able to afford it, Cameron.” You joked back, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Rafe shook his head. There was something about you that threw him off, took him out of that character he always wore.

“Don’t underestimate me. Maybe I’ll surprise myself and have enough to pay for your expensive autographs.” He replied with a mocking smile.

You laughed again, enjoying that lightness that was rare when you were around him. Rafe had a reputation, and you knew it better than anyone. But at times like this, he felt different, more human, closer.

“Well, we’ll see if you get lucky next time.”

You opened the car door and climbed out, the cool night air hitting your face. From the open door, you leaned into him once more.

“Thanks for saving me from those idiots. I think I could handle it though…” you said with a playful smile.

Rafe looked at you with a mix of amusement and something else, something you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Sure, but… it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back, right?” He winked at you.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” you admitted quietly.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment longer, a moment suspended in the air before he looked away and started the car again.

“See you soon.” He said before speeding off and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

You stood on the sidewalk for a second, watching the taillights of Rafe’s car fade into the distance. There was something about him, that mix of danger and calm, that made you feel alive. Something that drew you in, even when you knew you shouldn't.

With a sigh, you turned and entered your house. 

The next day, sunlight filtered timidly through the curtains of your room. You woke up early, as always. You could still feel the echo of the laughter shared with Rafe on your skin and how the emotion of the moment had left you in an almost euphoric state. But today, that emotion had to take a backseat. It was Sofia’s birthday. And that meant that your best friend needed you. 

Still between the sheets, you grabbed your phone and sent her a message:

“Happy birthday, Sof 🎉! I hope you’re ready to be the center of attention today… Although that’s not much different than any other day, right?”

Sofia’s response came almost immediately. 

“Thank you!! ❤️ I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

You laughed softly, imagining the mix of excitement and anxiety that was probably shining in her eyes at that moment. Sofia had always been like that, wanting everything to be perfect.

You quickly wrote a reply:

“Relax, everything will be fine. I'll come early to help you with whatever you need. You're not going to do this alone.”

“You're the best. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you. See you in a bit! 😊”

You got out of bed, already with a clear idea in mind. The night was going to be important for Sofia, and you were going to make sure it was perfect. After all, she was your best friend, and her happiness had always been on your priority list.

You went to the bathroom, took a shower, and got ready with the same dedication as always. You liked to be impeccable, and today would be no exception. You opted for a casual but elegant look: light shorts and a tank top in a neutral tone that highlighted your tan. Your hair was loose, with soft natural waves, and a touch of makeup that highlighted your eyes.

Before you left, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was in its place.

You grabbed your bag and walked out, walking towards the Cameron house.

When you reached the door, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill. There was always something about that house that gave you a mix of nerves and anticipation. You knocked softly, and before you could wait too long, the door swung open. Sofia was there, beaming, with a wide smile and an energy that seemed contagious.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know where to start… there are so many things to do.”

“That’s what I’m here to do, calm you down and help you organize everything.” You hugged her back just as intensely, smiling. “First, breathe. Everything’s going to be okay. Today is your day, and you have to enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” Sofia replied, giggling nervously as she led you inside. “But you know how I am.” If something goes wrong…

“Nothing is going to go wrong,” you interrupted her firmly. “Trust me. Now tell me, where do we start?”

Sofia led you to the kitchen, where there was an endless list of things to do: decorations, food, everything needed for a party that promised to be the event of the month.

When they finally finished, the sun was beginning to set behind the horizon. The house was impeccable and elegantly decorated. Sofia had taken care of every detail: lights were strategically hung to create a warm and luxurious atmosphere, while gold and silver tones dominated the place, reflecting the theme of the night. The atmosphere promised to be spectacular.

Sofia and you went up to her room together to get ready.

“I can’t believe everything is ready,” Sofia said as she opened the door to her closet. “I thought we would never make it.”

“See? I told you everything would turn out well,” you replied with a smile. “Now comes the best part: getting amazing.”

Sofia pulled out a long, silver-colored dress, fitted to her figure, with rhinestone details that captured the light in a mesmerizing way. While she changed, you approached your own selection of clothes that you had brought with you.

You chose a simple but elegant gold dress with thin straps that left your shoulders and back bare. It wasn’t the most impressive dress you’d ever worn, but for the occasion it was more than enough. You slid it smoothly down your body, adjusting it in place, and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning slightly to see your reflection.

Sofia, now in her silver dress, looked at you with a smile.

“You look beautiful, as always. That gold is perfect for you.”

You smiled, accepting the compliment, although deep down you still thought you could have chosen something more dazzling.

You sat in front of the mirror to fix your hair. You opted for soft, natural waves, which fell gracefully over your shoulders. You didn’t want anything too elaborate; just something that would complement the dress and enhance your face.

The makeup was simple but effective: a subtle eyeliner that highlighted your eyes, a touch of gold shadow to highlight the theme of the night, and lips in a nude tone that kept the look elegant but discreet. You made sure every detail was in place before standing up and putting the finishing touches on a pair of small, delicate earrings.

“Ready,” you said, turning to Sofia.

She looked at you with pride and excitement.

“We look amazing. Tonight is going to be perfect, I’m sorry.”

“Of course it will be,” you assured her as you both walked down the stairs. “Everything is ready, and you look spectacular. This is your night, Sof.”

The house was already beginning to fill with guests arriving one after another, dressed in matching gold and silver tones. Music floated through the air, and the lights danced softly, reflecting the luxury and exclusivity Sofia had wanted for her birthday.

As you watched everything unfold, a part of you felt calm. They had worked hard, and now it was time to enjoy.

The party was going on with a calm and elegant atmosphere. Guests moved between the decorated rooms, chatting, laughing, toasting Sofia. There was an enveloping calm that you liked; you felt comfortable, but there was also something in the air, a feeling that something could change at any moment.

You decided to take a walk around the mansion, observing the people, their gestures, their glances. You moved gracefully, with a drink in your hand, enjoying the atmosphere and that subtle feeling of being part of something special.

That was when you saw it.

Rafe was leaning against one of the walls, observing the crowd with an indecipherable expression. He didn't seem lost or bored, just... attentive. As if every movement around him had a meaning that only he could decipher.

You slowly approached him, until you were next to him.

"How was the party?" you asked him with a smile, breaking the silence between you.

Rafe turned his face slightly towards you. His blue eyes met yours for a moment, intense but calm.

"I'm enjoying myself," he replied, with that calm and confident tone, as if nothing in the world could alter it.

You nodded, and the smile remained on your face.

"Me too," you said. Silence settled between you two again, but it wasn't uncomfortable, it was as if words weren't necessary for a moment. It was just the two of you, amidst the distant murmur of the party.

Suddenly, you felt his gaze.

It wasn't a casual look. It was a lingering look, as if every detail of your face captured his attention. His eyes scanned every line, every shadow, every expression. It was an intense look, but not uncomfortable, almost as if he were in a daze, lost in that moment. There was no judgment or coldness, just something you couldn't quite define.

You noticed it. You felt it. But, to your surprise, it didn't make you nervous.

You didn't know how to feel about it. There was something intriguing about being watched like that, something that made you wonder what exactly he saw. So, almost without thinking, you looked at him too.

Your eyes searched for his. And for an instant that seemed eternal, they met. Two gazes that held each other, that understood each other without words, that explored something beyond the obvious. There was no noise around them. There was no one else at that moment.

Finally, they both separated their gazes, as if something invisible had reminded them that the world kept turning.

“Behind every beautiful thing, there is some kind of pain,” you said quietly, almost like a thought out loud.

Rafe looked at you again, this time with a slight glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nodded slowly, as if those words resonated with something he himself understood, something he carried within.

There was nothing else to say at that moment. You gently stepped away, leaving the glass on a nearby table.

“I’m going to walk a little,” you told him, and he simply watched you as you walked away.

The fresh air greeted you as you stepped out into the garden. Each step took you away from the hustle and bustle of the party, but not from the feeling Rafe had left in you.

You walked slowly along the well-kept paths, surrounded by soft lights hanging from the trees, illuminating the path with a calm warmth. The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled softly, as if they were watching you too. You felt good, at peace, enjoying that moment of solitude, getting away from everything for a moment.

But you weren't alone for long.

You heard footsteps behind you, soft but firm. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. There was something unmistakable about Rafe's presence. A confident, calm air, but charged with something more, something that always seemed to throb beneath the surface.

He stood beside you without saying a word. There was no need to explain why he was there, or to ask him why he had decided to accompany you. He just did it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They walked together, in silence. Neither of them felt the urge to fill the space with words. The night was enough. The soft sounds of the wind through the leaves, the crunch of gravel under their feet, and the occasional whisper of the breeze were enough company.

Rafe had his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his eyes observed everything around him with that characteristic attention, as if every detail was important. Every now and then, his eyes would drift to you, though he didn't say anything.

There was something surprisingly comfortable about that shared silence. You didn't feel compelled to speak, to explain anything, to pretend anything. Rafe seemed to understand that, and you understood it too.

They walked along a path that bordered the garden, passing by a small pond where the reflection of the golden lights from the party sparkled in the water. You stopped for a moment, watching as the soft waves distorted the lights, creating dancing patterns. Rafe stopped beside you, watching the same thing.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you finally commented, breaking the silence, but with a soft voice, as if you didn’t want to disturb the calm of that moment.

Rafe nodded, a smile almost imperceptible on his face.

“Yes, it is.”

The silence returned, but this time it was different. It was a silence filled with understanding, with something that didn’t need to be said out loud. Both of you continued walking, slowly advancing through the garden.

At some point, his steps aligned perfectly with yours, as if walking together was something you had always done. There was no rush. You were just there, enjoying the night, the calm.

The silence continued between you, but at that moment, you felt it was time to go back, to get back to reality. You looked at Rafe, who was still walking beside you, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I think I should head back to the party,” you said, keeping your voice light, but with a small smile, “They’re going to miss you. I’ll come back later.”

Rafe looked at you then, a glint of understanding in his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, rather, it seemed like he had been waiting for you to say it. He nodded slightly and, without losing his calm, glanced up at the starry sky.

“You’re right.” His tone was relaxed, but there was a spark in his eyes that made it clear that you didn’t care much about the party or the others.

You both stopped in front of the garden entrance, as if you somehow knew that the walk had come to an end. The party continued in the distance, laughter and conversations floating in the air.

“I’ll see you later then,” Rafe said with a slight smile.

He took a step back, giving you room to turn around and head back into the hustle and bustle of the party.

With a small wave of his hand, you began to walk back.

“See you later,” you said as you walked away, still staring at him for a moment, knowing that even though you were physically walking away, somehow, the words that weren’t said between you would still be floating in the air. 

Rafe stood there, watching you go, before turning around again and heading back to the party. 

After you both returned to the party, the atmosphere had changed slightly. The music was still playing, but something in the air seemed lighter. People were gathered around the center table, where Sofia was at the front, surrounded by her friends, family, and loved ones. They were all waiting for the moment when she would blow out the candles, the perfect ending to their celebration. 

The table was adorned with gold and silver details, like the theme of the party, and in the center, a large three-tiered cake dominated the stage. The candles glowed softly, with the light dancing over the smiling faces of everyone present. Sofia looked radiant, her dress shining under the lights of the room, and her eyes reflected a mix of excitement and gratitude.

Rafe approached you, a glass in his hand, and offered it to you with a discreet smile. It was clear that the tension between the two of you had not completely dissipated, but at that moment, everything seemed simpler, lighter. He raised his glass in your direction, waiting for you to toast with it.

“To Sofia,” he said in a soft tone, looking towards the table, where Sofia was already ready to blow out the candles.

You raised your glass as well, nodding with a smile. “To Sofia,” you repeated, feeling that the night, despite everything, had something special, something you couldn’t describe, but you knew deep down. You both toasted, clinking glasses with a small sound that resonated in the air.

Sofia, with her gaze full of hope, closed her eyes and blew out the candles. At that moment, everyone present kept a brief silence, waiting for her to make her wish. The bated breath in the room felt like a bubble about to burst, and then, as if everything had been calculated, Sofia opened her eyes and smiled.

“Thank you all for being here,” she said, her voice warm and full of emotion, looking at everyone present. “Thank you for this very special day.”

Applause filled the room, and the music took control of the night again, as people began to laugh and enjoy themselves again. Rafe, for his part, gave you one last look before diverting his attention to his group of friends.

The night continued, filled with laughter and toasts.

The next day, the sun shone brightly on the mansion and the atmosphere remained relaxed, almost as if the party the day before had been just a distant dream. The pool sparkled invitingly under the midday heat, the clear water reflecting the clear sky. You had already begun to enjoy the day, swimming and letting yourself be carried away by the calm of the place. The water surrounded you, cool and refreshing, as you swam back and forth, enjoying the peace of those solitary moments.

Rafe and Sofia were in the lounger area, almost ignoring you in their own world.

After a while, you decided to get out of the water. You laid down on one of the lounge chairs, feeling the sun on your skin. But soon, bored of just sitting there doing nothing, you got up and headed over to the pool table. You grabbed a cue and, in order to distract yourself, decided to play a little, not really interested in winning, just to pass the time.

It wasn't long before Rafe approached you, watching with a slight smile on his face.

"Do you dare to play a game?" he asked, also taking a cue and adjusting his shirt a little.

Sofia, from her spot by the pool, watched the two of you, somewhat distant, but not enough to not notice how you interacted. It could have been her curious look, or perhaps the way her body was slightly tense, but at that moment, something seemed different.

The game started with laughter and small jokes between you and Rafe. He, always a bit of a tease, would try to tease you with some comment or make you lose focus, but all in good spirits. You realized that, at that moment, there was no pressure. There was no tension, just the sound of the cue hitting the balls, the laughter and the words that intertwined naturally.

Meanwhile, Sofia stood there, watching in silence.

Rafe, more focused on the game than anything else, made a couple of jokes to you while he won it, but you weren't intimidated. You laughed, both at his attitude and at the little tricks he tried, although without being really competitive, which kept the atmosphere light.

At one point, your cue missed on a crucial shot and Rafe couldn't help but laugh.

"That's the best you've got?" he said, taking his turn to give it the final blow.

Finally, after a few rounds, the match ended and Rafe emerged victorious, albeit with a slight hint of irony, as he knew you had let him win a couple of times just to not make the moment too tense.

Sofia approached, as if she had been waiting for them to finish so she could resume the chat between the three of you.

The day progressed slowly, the sun shining brightly on the pool and the gardens of the mansion. The air was getting warmer and warmer, the atmosphere relaxed with soft music in the background. Sofia and you had laughed together, enjoying the little jokes.

As the sun began to set, dyeing the sky orange and pink hues, Sofia received a call. Her face changed slightly as she looked at her phone, and after a few seconds of conversation, she told you that she had to leave, that her family needed her.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked, without thinking too much about what you were saying. An impulse, a need to not let her go alone.

But Sofia looked at you with a smile, her voice soft but firm.

“It’s not necessary. Stay here, enjoy the day,” she replied with a calm that almost surprised you.

So, without being able to do much else, you watched her leave, watching her walk away down the path that led to the entrance of the mansion. You stood there, watching the sunset for a long moment. Something in the air, in the stillness of the place, made you feel uncomfortable, as if everything was about to change. The house suddenly seemed empty, and the sound of your own footsteps echoed in the silence that settled around it.

With the intention of not staying there thinking about what you didn’t want to think about, you decided to go out to the backyard, looking for a distraction. Maybe just a little fresh air would help you calm the anxiety that was beginning to grow inside you.

The patio was quiet, with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze and the soft murmur of the pool water, but the quiet only served to make you feel even more nervous. You walked a little further, approaching the trees and shadows of the garden, trying to escape a situation that made you feel uncomfortable.

It was then that you heard his footsteps. Rafe, who had not left you alone all day, appeared behind you, his elongated figure projecting over the grass. At first you didn't say anything, as if the silence between the two of you was some kind of invisible wall that you didn't even want to touch.

"Are you going to stay here alone?" Rafe asked, his voice soft, but with something in it that made you turn to look at him. He didn't seem to notice the tension in the air, or maybe he felt it too, but didn't know how to handle it.

And it was at that moment, when his eyes met yours, that everything became more intense. A simple exchange of glances turned into something deeper, something that both of you seemed to understand without the need for words. He was close, close enough for you to feel his presence. His gaze, once calm, now seemed charged with something else. You couldn't say exactly what it was, but it was there, like an invisible current that silently united you.

You both stood there, as if suspended in time, not knowing whether to move forward or back. You wanted to break that silence, but the truth was that you didn't know how. The fact that he was so close, his soft breathing, his gaze fixed on you, made everything much more complicated.

Rafe took a step towards you, without saying a word, as if he was looking for something in your expression, something that would make you give in. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, taking a step back, but not really moving away from him. It was as if gravity had brought them together in that instant, an invisible force pulling them both to the same place. The tension was palpable, like a thin thread that tightened with every millimeter of space they shared. 

You felt trapped in the moment, as if your thoughts were caught between the need to flee and the need to stay there. And although you didn't want to admit it, you were attracted to him, and that terrified you. Something about his closeness, his presence, made you feel vulnerable, but at the same time, something in you wanted him not to move away. 

Rafe, it seemed, felt it too. He stared at you a little longer, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move, or as if he was undecided between saying something or simply remaining suspended in the air in that moment. Finally, it was he who broke the silence with a slight smile, a smile that, although it seemed relaxed, hid something deeper, something you knew you couldn't decipher. 

“I don't know what we're doing here.” he said quietly, as if he didn't want to break the spell that had fallen between the two of you.

You looked at each other, unable to formulate a response, and in that instant, the gap between the two of you closed. Without saying another word, you turned around and began to walk, breaking that moment of tension, knowing that what you felt was not something you could control or explain. But, at the same time, you couldn't deny that a part of you didn't want that moment to end.

The courtyard no longer seemed so welcoming, and you no longer knew whether to leave, stay, or face it. But something told you that tonight, things would not be the same as before.

The night was passing slowly, silence enveloping the atmosphere. Sofia had not yet returned, and although you had tried not to think about it, there was something in you that already predicted that things would change. You did not know exactly how or why, but you felt a pressure in the air.

Hours passed while you waited for her return, but when you finally received her message, you knew that everything had fallen apart. “I will not return tonight. I have things to resolve.” The words floated before your eyes, and something inside you tightened. You knew that the situation was becoming more complicated, and at the same time, you felt a strange mix of relief and nervousness. You were left alone, not knowing what to do, with that feeling that everything you had been avoiding was finally going to happen.

You looked at Rafe, who had been silent in some corner of the house. He seemed so oblivious to what was going through your mind, but there was also something in his presence that attracted you, something you could no longer ignore.

“Sofia won’t be back tonight,” you said, trying to sound calm, but your voice was shaking a little. “I think I’ll go.”

Rafe looked at you with a slightly crooked smile, as if he had been waiting for that answer. The sparkle in his eyes, the slight glint of amusement in his expression, made you hesitate for a moment.

“Don’t you want to go out for a while?”

His invitation was like a temptation, a soft voice that made you reconsider. It was hard to resist the idea of ​​escaping from everything, of leaving behind the tension that was building in the air, of feeling a small spark of freedom, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

You, knowing it wasn’t the right thing to do, hesitated for a moment. How wrong could it be? After all, you weren’t doing anything “serious,” you were just a couple of friends, right? The answer seemed more like an excuse than a justification, but still, something inside you pushed you to say:

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

Rafe smiled immediately, and the way his eyes sparkled made your heart beat a little faster, but you forced yourself to calm down. You didn't know if you were fooling yourself, but the night was young, and the world seemed more accessible at the moment.

The two of you walked outside, the city streets deserted and quiet under the starry sky. The moonlight illuminated everything softly, and for some reason, that silence was comforting. The escape you were looking for surrounded you, and with each step, the tension in the air faded, although you knew that, deep down, there was no escape from what was really happening between the two of you.

You didn't talk much as you walked, but the company was enough. The sound of your footsteps and their calm breathing were the only things you could hear, and yet, there was a silent burden, something you both tried to ignore, but it was there, palpable in the air. Something in their gazes, something in their closeness.

As time went on, aimlessly, they began to laugh, to chat about trivial things, as if trying not to think about the obvious would help them relax. You realized that, for a moment, everything seemed easier.

It was when the first lights of dawn began to touch the horizon, that something in the atmosphere became almost palpable, a touch, a spark. They both found themselves standing close, too close to each other, as if an invisible force attracted them in a way that neither could deny.

You could hear their breathing, ragged, almost synchronized, as if at that moment nothing else existed in the world but the two of them. They were so close that you could feel their warmth, their presence, and that small line between what was right and what was not blurred.

You felt unable to move, as if everything you had been thinking about, everything you had wanted to avoid, was about to break. The urge to reach out to him, to follow the desire that was growing between you two, was stronger than ever. But something inside you made you stop. A clear thought, a reminder of what really mattered to you.

“This is wrong, Rafe,” you said in a shaky but firm voice as you took a step back, looking out at the horizon. “We should stay friends. I don’t want to complicate things. It’s not what we need.”

Silence settled between the two of you, and he stared at you. His eyes, which had previously been bright with amusement, now held something else, something like a mix of understanding and perhaps a bit of disappointment.

“Are we friends?” he asked, almost with a sad smile, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer.

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the answer in your own feelings. Finally, you decided to give the answer that, at that moment, seemed the most sensible.

“I guess so,” you said, a sigh escaping your lips.

Rafe nodded slowly, as if he finally understood something he had been searching for in you.

“That’s good to know,” he murmured, and for a moment, everything between you seemed to calm down.

But, you knew everything had changed. You couldn’t just go back to how things were before. Without another word, you turned around, feeling the weight of the goodbye, but unable to help it.

“I’m leaving alone,” you said, without looking back.

Rafe didn’t say anything, although hesitation could be seen in his eyes. He didn’t want to let you go, but deep down he knew he couldn’t keep insisting. For some reason, in the end, he didn't say anything, he just watched as you walked away. 

You returned to your house, the cold morning air caressing your skin, and although you felt like something had changed between you and him, you also knew that, somehow, you had made the right decision. Although, deep down, you wondered if it really was. 

After what happened that night with Rafe, something inside you changed. An invisible barrier rose, separating you from him and, consequently, from Sofia as well. The awkwardness that was once just a spark had now become a smoldering fire, burning inside you every time you thought about him, about how close you were, about how you almost crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed. 

You decided that the best thing to do was to walk away. Guilt weighed on you like a burden you couldn't let go of, and although you wanted to pretend that everything was okay, your conscience wouldn't let you rest. You made up excuses not to see them. When Sofia invited you out, to the beach, the pool, or any other gathering, you always had something else to do.

—Sorry, I have to study.

—I can't, I feel a little bad today.

—I have to help my mom with something.

The excuses piled up, one after another, until Sofia started to notice. At first, she believed you. She was your friend, she trusted you. But after several weeks of evasions, her messages started to sound different, more insistent, almost worried.

—Are you okay? We haven't seen you lately.

—Strange that you don't want to come... we miss you.

—Are you avoiding something?

You responded evasively, trying not to raise suspicions, but you knew that Sofia wasn't stupid. However, you preferred to deal with her concern rather than face what was really tormenting you: Rafe.

He, on the other hand, seemed unchanging. There was no change in his behavior, at least not visible. He didn't seem to feel the same discomfort or guilt that haunted you. He would send you messages from time to time, casual, as if nothing had happened between you.

—Are you going to the party tonight?

—Are you okay? I haven't seen you lately.

—Sofia asked about you, I told her you're probably busy.

Sometimes you read his messages and ignored them. You didn't want to fall into that dynamic of responding, of pretending everything was normal. But other times, the temptation was stronger, and you responded, although coldly, without giving rise to anything else.

—I'm fine.

—I don't think I'm going.

—Thanks for letting me know.

Each word of yours was measured, each message carefully worded to not lead to a deeper conversation. But Rafe didn't seem affected. He didn't chase you, he didn't insist, and that made you even angrier.

How could he be so calm after all? How could he act like nothing had happened while you were drowning in guilt? What hurt you most was that, deep down, you knew that was his nature. Rafe Cameron didn't feel remorse. He never had. He was always like that: cold, calculating, and seemingly incapable of feeling guilt.

And that made you even angrier. Because how could you be angry at him for being exactly the way he always was? There was a reason he always looked down on you, there was a reason he always looked at you with that mix of arrogance and disdain. Because to him, nothing really mattered. He wasn't afraid to cross boundaries, because to Rafe, boundaries were just an abstract concept that he could ignore when it suited him. 

You felt caught in a contradiction. You hated him for not feeling anything, but at the same time, a part of you envied that indifference. Because while you carried the weight of what could have happened, he kept going, as if you were just another person in his life. 

There were days when you wanted to confront him, ask him directly why he didn't feel the same as you, why he didn't seem affected. But the fear of facing his indifference stopped you. Because you knew that if you did, his answer would be cold, sharp, and maybe make you feel worse. 

And so, the weeks kept passing. You avoided any place where you might run into him. If you knew Sofia and Rafe were going to be at a party, you just didn’t go. If you heard his name in conversation, you walked away before they could talk about him anymore. Even on social media, you avoided looking at anything that might remind you of that night, that closeness, that moment you almost crossed paths.

But despite all your efforts, Rafe was still there, in the back of your mind. He was like a shadow you couldn’t erase, a presence that followed you, even when he wasn’t around.

One afternoon, as you were checking your phone, a new message from him popped up on your screen. You stared at it for a moment, hesitating to open it. Just seeing it made your heart beat faster, a mix of anxiety and something you didn’t want to admit.

—You’re really quiet lately. Everything okay?

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to decide whether to respond or not. You knew a part of you wanted to, wanted to keep that connection, even if it was minimal. But you also knew that every message, every interaction, only made things more complicated.

Finally, you left the message unanswered, turned off your phone, and sighed. The conflict was still there, inside you, a battle between desire and reason, between what you felt for Rafe and what you knew was right. And all the while, he was still Rafe: untouchable, indifferent, and always one step ahead.

You had built up a routine of avoidance: excuses for not going out, cold and calculated messages, avoiding meetings where you knew he would be. You had decided that the best thing for you was to keep your distance and protect both your heart and your friendship with Sofia. You didn't want to be "the other." You didn't want to be the reason everything fell apart.

But Rafe seemed to have other plans.

He kept looking for you. His messages became more frequent, his gazes more intense every time you met by chance. And when you avoided him, he found a way to close the distance, to make you feel his presence, as if he knew exactly which buttons to push to make you doubt your decisions.

One afternoon, while you were at a local café, enjoying a moment alone, you saw his figure approaching. Tall, self-assured, with that look that always seemed to carry a dangerous mix of arrogance and attraction. There was no escape this time.

“Can I sit down?” Rafe asked, even though he was already dragging the chair in front of you.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure.

“Sure, but I don’t stay long,” you replied nonchalantly.

He smiled, as if he perfectly understood the game you were playing. He knew you were trying to keep him at bay, and it seemed to amuse him more than it put him off.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and staring at you.

“No. Why would I?” you replied, avoiding his eyes as you stirred your coffee.

His gaze burned into you. It was as if he could see right through you, piercing through every one of your carefully raised defenses. You knew you shouldn’t fall for his game, but with every passing second you felt your self-control slowly crumble.

“I don’t know… I barely see you lately. Sofia notices it too.” His tone was casual, but there was something else there, a hidden insinuation.

“I’ve been busy,” you said, shrugging.

The silence stretched on, and when you finally looked up, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was something in his eyes, a mix of desire, frustration, and… defiance. Like he was waiting for you to be the one to break that barrier.

“You should focus on Sofia,” you murmured, diverting the conversation back to where you wanted to take it. “She’s the one who matters.”

Rafe leaned a little closer to you, closing the distance.

“What if it’s not just Sofia?” he whispered.

Your hands tightened around the cup. That line, that edge you’d both been skirting since that night, was dangerously close again. And the worst part of it all was that, even though you knew you should walk away, part of you wanted to know what would happen if you didn’t.

“We can’t, Rafe. I don’t want to be “the other.” I’m not going to ruin what I have with Sofia for… this. “Your voice was firm, but there was a barely perceptible tremor in your words.

He was silent for a moment, studying every expression on your face. He didn’t seem upset or disappointed. On the contrary, he seemed intrigued, as if your words were a challenge rather than a refusal.

“For this?” he repeated with a half smile.

“For whatever this is,” you clarified, trying to sound confident.

Rafe sighed, but didn’t move away. On the contrary, he rested a hand on the table, almost brushing yours, so close that you could feel the warmth of his skin.

“What if it’s not what you think?” he asked quietly. “What if we can handle it without ruining anything?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overflow. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that he could control himself, that you could keep everything in order, but you knew that things were never that simple.

“I can’t risk it,” you said at last, pulling your hand away and breaking contact. “I don’t want to lose her. Or myself.”

Rafe nodded slowly, but his eyes were still fixed on you. There was something in his gaze that wouldn’t go away: desire mixed with stubbornness. Like this was just a chapter in a story he was determined to continue.

“Okay,” he murmured, getting up from his chair. “But you can’t walk away forever.”

You stayed silent as he left, leaving an air heavy with tension and a racing heartbeat in your chest. You knew he was right. You couldn’t walk away forever. But for now, you promised yourself that you would keep trying, because if you got close again, you knew that this time you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

That same day, you returned home with your heart tangled in a tangle of emotions. The tension you had been avoiding was no longer something you could ignore. You felt the need to talk to someone, to find clarity in the midst of the chaos that had broken out in your mind. However, you chose to lock yourself in your room, hoping that the silence of the night would give you the answers you were looking for.

But your mother didn't let you isolate yourself for long.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly from the door, peeking in with a curious, motherly look. She had noticed your behavior in the last few days. The constant excuses, the long sighs, the nights when you seemed to be in another world.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m just tired,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you settled into bed.

She wasn’t fooled. She walked into your room, closed the door behind her, and sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes, full of wisdom and tenderness, looked at you with that mix of understanding and concern that only a mother could have.

“Honey, I know you too well. Something’s going on. Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed. You knew she wasn’t going to give up, and somehow that comforted you. You took a moment before answering.

“It’s complicated, Mom. I don’t know how to explain it without it sounding… bad.” You looked down, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

She waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. When you finally raised your head, you found in her gaze an invitation to vent.

“There’s someone…” you began, choosing your words carefully. “Someone I shouldn’t be with. He’s a friend’s boyfriend, and… I don’t know how it happened, but everything is a mess now. I try to get away, but it seems like the more I try, the harder it gets. It’s like he doesn’t want to let me go.”

Your mother nodded slowly, processing each word. She didn’t interrupt you, she just let you talk.

“I know it’s wrong, and I feel guilty, but at the same time… there’s something about him that I can’t ignore. It’s like there’s something between us that shouldn’t be there, but I can’t help it either.”

Your mother looked at you with an expression that was a mix of empathy and nostalgia. “I understand more than you think,” she said with a soft smile. “I went through something similar when I was young.”

You were shocked. “You? Really?” you asked, incredulous. You had never imagined your mother in a similar situation.

She nodded, settling herself better on the bed. There was a sparkle in her eyes, as if she was remembering a fragment of her own youth.

“Yes, before I met your father, there was someone… someone who made me feel alive, who shook my world in ways I had never experienced. He was charming, ambitious, and yes, he had a lot of money.” She laughed softly. “But he wasn’t the person I was supposed to be with. It was all intense, but not always intense is the best for you.”

You looked at her curiously, as if you were seeing a side of her you had never known.

“And what happened?” you asked, intrigued.

She sighed, as if the memory took her back to those days. “In the end, I realized I couldn’t live in that whirlwind. There was a lot of fire, but not enough to build something lasting. And then your father came along. He was different. Calmer, more stable… but real. And I realized that was what I needed.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “So you had a rich boyfriend too, that you left for love?.” you joked, trying to lighten the conversation.

Your mother laughed, the warm sound filling the room. “It seems like it’s a tradition, doesn’t it?” she replied humorously. “But money isn’t everything, honey. Love is a crazy thing. Sometimes it takes you down paths you don’t expect, and other times it makes you see that what you really need is right in front of you, even if it’s not what you had imagined.”

You stayed silent, reflecting on her words. It was strange to think of your mother going through something similar, but it also made you feel less alone. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had felt that confusion, that forbidden attraction that seemed to have no way out.

“So what do I do?” you finally asked, seeking advice.

She looked at you tenderly and stroked your hair. “Do what you feel is right for you. Don’t punish yourself for feeling, but don’t lose yourself in something that could hurt you either. Sometimes walking away is the hardest thing, but also the most necessary thing.

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight on your chest lighten for a moment at least. Maybe, given time, you could find your own path, one that didn’t leave you trapped between what you wanted and what was right.

[helen-with-an-a]

Hii! I was thinking maybe like a alexia!player reader who is also good at singing😂 and have it inspired by ‘perfect to me’ Bradley Marshall- and it’s like the lead up to their wedding? And she surprises alexia with this song she sings during their first dance? And you could maybe showing them asking for bridesmaid etc?🫶🏼

Hiiii - so this request is so stinking cute but I've changed it slightly to make it a little more private moment between them. I kinda did it as snapshots of just after the proposal, the day before the wedding and then just after the wedding (so the wedding isn't included if that makes sense)

You Are The Music In Me

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Description: You gift Alexia something very special for your wedding

Word Count: 4k

ugh she's so pretty wtf

Alexia was fairly sure you could sing. She’d picked up on it in the most casual, unassuming moments – like when she noticed you humming along under your breath to the music you played while making dinner. Your voice would weave in and out of the melody, blending effortlessly with the rhythm of your cooking. It was a subtle, soothing accompaniment that made the kitchen feel more like a concert hall.

Then there were the times when she’d catch those docile tones drifting through the bedroom as you sang softly while you were in the shower. Even with the sound of the water cascading down, your voice managed to pierce through, delicate yet clear. It was as if the steam and tiles amplified your singing in an intimate, private performance.

And let’s not forget the car rides. She’d often hear you softly harmonise with the radio while you drove, your fingers tapping the steering wheel in perfect time with the beat. Your voice would seamlessly blend with the music, an effortless harmony that spoke of a deep, natural musicality.

Despite these subtle but telling glimpses into your talent, every time Alexia tried to coax you into singing out loud – into letting your voice be heard beyond those private moments – you would shy away. You’d offer a sheepish smile and dismiss her encouragement with a casual wave of your hand, as if to brush off the compliment and the request. It was clear that your singing was a cherished secret, something you shared only with yourself and the music, never quite ready to fully unveil it to the world.

It was the one thing Alexia had never managed to persuade you to do, no matter how gently she tried or how earnestly she asked. Your singing remained an elusive treasure to her.

-----

“Yes,” The single word was filled with all the love and commitment you had been feeling. It was a quiet but profound. “Yes, yes, Alexia. Yes, I will marry you. Oh my god.” As the words left your lips, you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the tears that began to well up in your eyes.

Alexia’s face lit up with an ecstatic smile that seemed to brighten the entire room. Her eyes glistened with tears of joy, mirroring your own emotions. The ring she had so thoughtfully chosen was nothing short of breathtaking.

As Alexia gently slid the ring onto your finger, you were filled with a sense of disbelief and elation. The reality of what was happening sank in – you were about to marry the love of your life, the person who had become your everything. You pulled Alexia up to standing, her hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She leaned down, pouring her emotions into a passionate kiss.

The world could have ended for all you knew. In that perfect, suspended moment, nothing outside of this bubble of joy seemed to matter. The stars could have fallen from the sky, the ground could have crumbled beneath your feet, and the cosmos itself could have unravelled, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. All that was important, all that filled your heart and mind, was Alexia. The person who meant more to you than anything or anyone else. She was perfect, with a kindness that touched everyone she met and a sweetness that made even the simplest moments feel extraordinary. She was your Ale – your love, your confidante, your everything.

As you held her close, her breath warm and soft against your lips, she whispered, “Voy a ser tu esposa.” Her voice was filled with wonder and affection, the words barely more than a breath.

You couldn’t help but giggle, your joy spilling over into laughter as you responded, “That’s generally how this works, Ale.” Your voice was light and teasing, infused with the happiness that bubbled up from the very core of your being.

Alexia’s eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and reverence. “Lo sé, mi niña descarada,” she said, rolling her eyes with a dramatic flair that made you both laugh. “But I get to be your wife,” she continued, her voice filled with awe and deep emotion. The words carried a profound sense of joy and disbelief, as if she was marvelling at the dream she had just realised.

“And I get to be yours. Mrs Putellas. Forever and ever,” you exclaimed gleefully, the words spilling out with an almost childlike delight. Your heart swelled with the excitement of your new identity.

With a burst of energy and joy, Alexia swept you up into her arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in a joyful, impromptu dance. The movement was exhilarating and exhilarating, a physical manifestation of the happiness and excitement you both felt. As she twirled you around, the world seemed to blur into a whirlwind of laughter, love, and unrestrained bliss. The moment was electric, filled with the pure, unfiltered joy of two people deeply in love, celebrating the beginning of a lifetime together.

“If only we had some music … we could practice our first dance,” Alexia mused, her voice filled with a dreamy, whimsical tone. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she envisioned the romantic moment, the thought of dancing together under the soft, flickering light of the candles adding an extra layer of enchantment to the already magical evening. She spun around slightly, her gestures playful and full of anticipation.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “I’m not singing, Ale,” you replied, a hint of playful defiance in your voice. The idea of serenading her, especially in this intimate, perfect moment, seemed both amusing and slightly daunting.

Alexia’s eyes widened in exaggerated shock, and she gasped dramatically. “Even after I just proposed to you?” she asked, her voice laced with faux indignation. Her reaction was a perfect blend of surprise and playful reproach. The sparkle in her eyes and the mischievous smile tugging at her lips made it clear that she was teasing, enjoying the playful exchange.

You laughed, your heart swelling with affection at her charming display. “Is that why you did it? Just to hear me sing?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. Alexia’s face softened into a genuine smile as she took your hand in hers, the laughter in her eyes mingling with the deep love and joy she felt. The look she gave you was one of adoration, filled with all the warmth and sincerity that came with her deep feelings for you.

“Eh, there were some other reasons as well,” she teased, her tone light

“Oh really, like what?” you asked, leaning in closer, eager to hear more. The curiosity in your voice was genuine, as if you were hanging on every word she said, fully invested in whatever she was about to say.

Alexia’s smile grew even softer, and she looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Like the fact that I am desperately, hopelessly, totally in love with you.”

-----

You had decided to go the traditional route of not seeing each other before the wedding. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice, but Alexia had asked for it and you would move mountains for that woman if she asked you to.

When Alexia had expressed her wish to follow this tradition, her eyes shining with a blend of excitement and sentimental longing, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of devotion. Although the idea of spending those final hours apart was not what you would have chosen for yourself, her happiness and the fulfilment of her wishes were far more important to you. You knew that this was a special request for her, something that would make her feel even more cherished and treasured on your wedding day.

You had come to a compromise of enduring 24 hours apart, a span of time that felt both unbearably long and exhilaratingly brief. Those 24 hours seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with a palpable sense of anticipation and yearning. Every minute apart was marked by a mix of excitement and a longing to be reunited. The separation, though challenging, was a testament to your commitment and dedication to making this moment as special as possible for Alexia.

The hours seemed to crawl by, each one underscoring the significance of what was to come. The anticipation of seeing Alexia in her wedding dress, the thought of her walking down the aisle towards you, and the sheer joy of finally being together again made every second of waiting worthwhile. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of the love and devotion that bound you together, making the eventual reunion even more poignant and memorable.

You had decided to leave her a little gift, a gesture that was both sentimental and deeply personal. After much thought and searching, you managed to find an ancient old Walkman – a vintage piece that seemed almost nostalgic in its own right. It wasn’t easy to track down, and the search had taken you quite some time, but the effort was well worth it for the joy it would bring.

The Walkman was a relic from a bygone era, a classic cassette player that symbolised a touch of nostalgia and a personal connection to simpler times. You knew that Alexia would appreciate its charm, especially given her love for vintage items and the meaningful gestures that spoke to her heart. Along with the Walkman, you had prepared a CD loaded with carefully selected songs. Each track was chosen with love and intention, representing a soundtrack to your shared moments, memories, and dreams.

You carefully placed the Walkman and the CD in a beautifully wrapped box, leaving a note for her, explaining what she needed to do.

Bon vespre, amor meu, Less than 24 hours and you will be my wife. Listen to this alone – it will take 20 minutes to listen to the whole thing. Sleep well, my love Te amo con todo mi corazón Your soon to be wife, x Ps. Listen to it when you aren’t wearing any makeup

Alexia had never regretted anything more in her life. It wasn’t the fact that she was marrying you; in fact, she saw that as the greatest achievement of her life, a dream come true that filled her with boundless joy and anticipation. No, what she deeply regretted was having asked to spend the last few hours before your marriage apart. The separation, meant to heighten the emotional impact of your reunion, instead left her feeling a profound sense of longing and melancholy. She missed your presence more than she could have anticipated, and the anticipation of being together again only intensified her regret.

The box was elegantly adorned with a ribbon, and even from across the room, Alexia could spot your handwriting on the attached tag. The familiar, personal script instantly brought a flutter of excitement to her heart.

Unable to contain her emotions, Alexia felt a wave of embarrassment at the speed with which she moved towards the desk. Her steps quickened, almost as if the box was a beacon guiding her through the haze of her separation. The anticipation of what lay inside the gift was palpable, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief and joy at the thought of connecting with you through this special token.

When she finally peered inside, her eyes widened in recognition and delight. Sitting in front of her was a black Walkman, an object reminiscent of the one she had used as a child to listen to her favorite music. The sight of it instantly evoked a wave of nostalgia, transporting her back to simpler times when life was filled with the comforting sound of music through her Walkman’s headphones. The vintage device, so carefully chosen and wrapped, was so obviously from you, even without the note.

She carefully fished out the headphones that you had thoughtfully included with the Walkman and felt a fresh wave of excitement wash over her. The headphones, compact and classic, were a perfect match for the vintage device. They were delicate, with soft cushioning around the earpads that promised a comfortable fit, and their design mirrored the nostalgic charm of the Walkman itself.

With a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, Alexia moved to the bed, where she could sit comfortably and fully immerse herself in the experience. The bed was adorned with plush pillows and a cozy blanket, creating a serene and intimate space where she could enjoy this special moment. As she settled onto the soft surface, her fingers gently caressed the Walkman and its accompanying headphones, appreciating the careful attention to detail that had gone into choosing and preparing this gift.

She placed the headphones over her ears, adjusting them to fit snugly, and then turned her attention back to the Walkman. With a sense of anticipation, she inserted the CD into the device, the familiar click of the mechanism echoing in the quiet room. The action was filled with a sense of ritual and connection, as if every step of the process was a way of drawing closer to you, despite the physical distance.

As she pressed play, Alexia was momentarily startled by the unexpected sound of someone clearing their throat. The noise, though gentle, cut through the quiet room and brought her attention sharply back to the Walkman.

The voice that followed made her heart skip a beat. “Hola, mi casi esposa,” you greeted warmly. Even after all the years spent living in Barcelona, your Spanish still carried that charming, endearing lilt that never failed to make her smile. “It’s me, your almost wife. In case you couldn’t tell,” you added with a soft, playful giggle that was instantly recognisable and filled with affection.

The sound of your voice, so delicate and infused with happiness, immediately lifted Alexia’s spirits. The sincerity and warmth in your tone were like a soothing balm, easing the pangs of separation she had been feeling. Your voice was a comforting reminder of your love and the special connection you shared, making the separation feel a little less daunting.

She listened intently as you continued, your words carrying a mixture of playfulness and guilt. “So, I know we said no wedding presents, but I couldn’t not.” The confession was tinged with a touch of sheepishness, and Alexia could easily picture your expression – a sly smile accompanied by a slight blush as you admitted to breaking the agreement you had both made. The image of you, trying to hide your excitement and affection while going against the agreed-upon rules, brought a soft, knowing smile to her face. It didn’t matter that you had gone against your promise, you would get back from your evening meal to find a similarly wrapped present waiting for you, Alexia’s own handwriting on a note just for you to read.

“Anyways,” your voice continued softly, “there are a few songs on here that make me think of you and our life together so far. Each one holds a special memory or a moment we’ve shared, a soundtrack to our journey together. I hope you enjoy them as much as I’ve enjoyed putting this together for you. But just know, above all, that I love you to the ends of the earth and I cannot wait to marry you.”

As your voice carried the sweet promise and deep affection, Alexia felt a lump form in her throat. “Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl. T'estimo molt,” you added, the endearing words resonating with warmth and sincerity. The intimacy of the message, coupled with the sound of your voice, made her heart swell with emotion.

Alexia struggled to blink back the tears that had suddenly welled up in her eyes, their warmth streaming down her cheeks. The first song began to play, its melody a tender echo of your love and the moments you had shared. Each note seemed to intertwine with the feelings of longing and joy that she had been experiencing, amplifying the emotional impact of your heartfelt message. The music, now a bridge between your hearts, made the separation feel less daunting and the anticipation of your union even more poignant. The combination of your loving words and the carefully chosen songs created a beautiful moment of connection, making her feel profoundly loved and cherished as she prepared to drift off to sleep with the comforting thought of your upcoming marriage.

As the final song faded, your voice appeared again.

“One final song, my love. And then it’s time for bed, I need you well rested for tomorrow,” you giggled sweetly. “You are absolutely perfect for me, Alexia Putellas Segura. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I would give my lungs if you needed to breathe, or the light if you can’t seem to find it. I should probably save this for my vows, but I promise to make you laugh every day until we’re old and have grey hair and need a stairlift.”

You cleared your throat again, the sound small but deliberate. As the initial notes of a piano began to play softly, Alexia held her breath in eager anticipation. Then, your voice emerged, breaking through the gentle accompaniment with a tender, melodious clarity.

From the very first note, she was captivated. Your voice was nothing short of enchanting, possessing a pure, ethereal quality that seemed to lift the air around her. It was as though a choir of angels had descended to serenade her, each note resonating with a sublime harmony that touched her soul deeply. The emotion in your singing was palpable, each phrase imbued with love and tenderness that transcended the physical distance between you.

Listening to you sing for the first time was an overwhelming experience for Alexia. The sound of your voice, rich and warm, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, soothing the ache of separation with its intimate and heartfelt expression. It was as if every word you sang was meant just for her, a musical love letter that conveyed the depth of your feelings and the profound connection you shared.

The piano’s melody danced beneath your voice, creating a perfect backdrop that enhanced the beauty of your singing. Each note seemed to echo the emotions you had shared in your message, amplifying the feelings of joy, longing, and affection. Alexia found herself completely absorbed in the moment, the combination of your voice and the music creating a magical, almost surreal experience.

As the song progressed, Alexia’s heart swelled with a mix of awe and affection. The tears that had been brimming in her eyes now flowed freely, a testament to the emotional impact of your performance. The beauty of your voice and the personal nature of the song made her feel incredibly close to you, despite the physical distance. It was a profound reminder of the love that awaited her and the shared journey you were about to embark on together.

-----

“Are you happy, amor?” Alexia asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of nervousness and vulnerability. She stood above you, her elegant dress rustling softly as she fidgeted with the fabric, her fingers betraying the anxiety she was feeling despite her radiant smile.

You cracked an eye open, intending to tease her, but the earnest concern in her eyes made you pause. “Alexia Putellas, you did not just ask me if I am happy on my wedding day?” The question was playful, but beneath the teasing tone, you could sense a deeper emotional undercurrent.

Alexia’s eyes widened, and she bit her lip, clearly anxious. “So … you have no remordimientos? No, what’s the phrase … um … c-cold…” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Cold feet?” you asked, a small laugh escaping you despite the sincerity of the moment.

“Sí, no cold feet?” She looked down at you nervously, her teeth sinking into her lip as she scanned your face

“Ale, where is this coming from?”

She took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t want you to regret marrying me. I do not think I could take it if you did.” The confession was delivered with such raw honesty that it tugged at your heartstrings.

You reached out, gently taking her hands in yours, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers. “Ale, you are the absolute love of my life. I stood up in front of all our friends and family and promised you that I will love you until my dying breath, and probably long after that too.”

Your voice was steady and filled with unwavering conviction. “There’s no question, no doubt in my mind. This day, the promise I made, this life we’re starting together is everything I’ve ever wanted. There’s no room for regrets, only endless love and joy.”

Seeing the relief flood over Alexia’s face, you pulled her into a tender embrace. The warmth and sincerity of your words seemed to melt away the last traces of her apprehension, replacing it with a profound sense of reassurance.

“As you held her close, Alexia's shoulders relaxed, and she nuzzled into the comfort of your embrace. “I’m sorry, amor,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I just … I had a dream last night. It was about something Mapí said years ago, something about how some people don’t realise they didn’t want to get married until they are actually in the midst of it. And, and, and I don’t even know why it popped into my head last night, but it did, and I just needed to make sure that you don’t regret marrying me.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, her accent thicker than usual

Your heart ached at the sight of her distress, understanding how deeply this fear had affected her. You cupped her face gently, lifting her chin to meet your gaze. “Ale, I could never, ever regret marrying you. You are my best friend, the love of my life, my person.” The certainty in your voice was unwavering, each word imbued with the depth of your commitment and affection. “There’s nothing that could ever change how I feel about you. I chose you, now and forever, and nothing will ever make me question that decision.”

Alexia nodded, her blonde curls bouncing softly with each movement, creating a delicate halo of warmth around her face. Her eyes, filled with affection and vulnerability, met yours. “Te amo mi esposa,” she murmured, her voice carrying a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with love.

You smiled warmly, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over you. “And I love you, my beautiful, if not a little silly sometimes, wife.” The playful comment brought a soft roll of her eyes, a gesture that only made you love her more. Her playful exasperation was part of what made your relationship so special – each quirk and each moment of shared humor was a testament to the deep bond you both cherished.

With a gentle sigh, she looked at you with a mix of hope and anticipation. “Will you sing for me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. The request was simple but filled with the intimacy and closeness of your shared moments. It was a tender plea for comfort and connection, and it touched you deeply.

You nodded with a reassuring smile, understanding the comforting power of a familiar song. “Let’s get into bed, baby,” you said softly, guiding her gently toward the bed. “I’ll sing you a lullaby, yeh?”

[amirasainz]

https://www.tumblr.com/amirasainz/768246287260942336/i-have-a-request-for-lando-norris-x-sisterreader

if you would could you write a part two?

like she really leaned on lando but also ollie and ollie was serious when he could he her bf …. and they get together

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Part 1

Big Brother to the Rescue Part 2

The following months were a whirlwind for Yn. Since that difficult weekend at the Grand Prix, Lando had made it his mission to bring her along to as many races as possible. At first, she’d been hesitant, worried about being a distraction. But Lando insisted.

“Come on, Yn,” he said one evening over dinner. “I drive better when I know you’re there. You’re like my good luck charm.”

Yn snorted. “You can’t use me as an excuse for a bad weekend, you know.”

“Never,” Lando said with a grin. “So, what do you say? Come to the next one?”

She agreed, and soon, race weekends became a regular part of her life again.

---

At first, Lando kept a close eye on her. He’d constantly check in—asking if she needed anything, cracking jokes to make her laugh, and making sure she wasn’t overthinking about her ex. But as the months passed, Yn’s laughter returned, and her smile became brighter.

Lando couldn’t help but notice the change. She seemed genuinely happy again, which filled him with relief. But something gnawed at him. Why?

---

It was during a particularly busy race weekend when Lando finally got his answer. The McLaren garage was bustling with engineers, mechanics, and team members preparing the cars for qualifying. Lando had just finished a debrief and decided to swing by the garage to check on Yn.

As he stepped inside, he froze.

There she was, standing off to the side with Ollie.

They were deep in conversation, their faces lit up with wide smiles. Yn’s laugh echoed softly over the hum of activity, and Lando narrowed his eyes. Why is he making her laugh like that?

Then he saw it.

Ollie leaned in, saying something that made Yn blush and look down shyly. And before she could tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Ollie gently did it for her.

Lando’s jaw tightened.

Oh no, no, no.

He started striding toward them, fully prepared to put an end to whatever this was. But before he could take more than a few steps, a hand caught his arm.

It was Oscar.

“Where are you going?” Oscar asked, his tone calm but firm.

“To remind Ollie that he’s not allowed to flirt with my sister,” Lando said through gritted teeth.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why?” Lando repeated incredulously. “Because she’s my little sister. That’s why.”

Oscar glanced over at Yn and Ollie. They were still talking, completely unaware of Lando’s growing frustration. Yn laughed again, her eyes sparkling in a way Lando hadn’t seen in months.

“Look at her,” Oscar said, nodding toward them.

“I am,” Lando snapped. “That’s the problem.”

“No, that’s the solution,” Oscar replied. “She’s smiling again, Lando. She’s happy.”

Lando hesitated.

Oscar continued, his voice softer now. “You’ve been worried about her for months, and now she’s back to being herself. Don’t ruin that because you’re being overprotective.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He looked at Yn again—really looked at her. She was radiant, her cheeks flushed from laughter as she teased Ollie about something.

And Ollie...

Lando hated to admit it, but Ollie looked at Yn with genuine affection. The way he leaned toward her, hanging on her every word, and the tenderness in his gaze—it wasn’t just flirting.

It was something more.

Oscar gave Lando a pat on the back. “Think about it,” he said before walking away.

Lando stood there for a moment, torn. His instincts screamed at him to protect Yn, to pull her away and remind Ollie who she was. But Oscar’s words lingered in his mind.

She’s smiling again.

With a heavy sigh, Lando took a step back. He turned and walked out of the garage, leaving Yn and Ollie to their moment.

---

Later that evening, Yn found Lando sitting outside the hospitality area, staring at the sky.

“Hey,” she said, sitting beside him.

“Hey,” he replied.

She nudged him with her elbow. “You okay?”

Lando glanced at her, noticing the contentment in her expression. “Yeah. Are you?”

Yn smiled softly. “I am.”

They sat in silence for a while before Yn spoke again. “Thanks for bringing me to all these races. I needed this.”

“You needed more than that,” Lando said, his voice teasing but warm.

Yn tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Lando said quickly, shaking his head. “Just...I’m glad you’re happy.”

She studied him for a moment, then leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have the best brother in the world, you know that?”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a grin.

They stayed like that for a while, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background. And though Lando still had his reservations about Ollie, he decided he could live with it.

As long as Yn was smiling, that was all that mattered.

[danexist]

Going to actually make an addition instead of hiding in the notes because this will be LOOOONG.

So. Doctor Who: one of the longest running, most loved shows on television to date. I love it, my parent's generation love it, my great aunts and uncles love it. But this great show that's been running for longer than my father has been alive, recently, it's gone downhill according to MILLIONS of viewers.

So what made it so loveable in the first place? Well, it was a really fun show about a time-travelling alien who runs around in a blue box with a companion. That's basically the gist, if you haven't seen it. But I hear stories from my grandma even, she and her siblings would watch Doctor Who on TV after dinner whenever it was on, well, after they got a TV that was. When it wasn't on, my grandma's generation would talk about what would happen in the next season, who the Doctor would be next, everything! They knew a next season was coming for certain. And I think that's what made it a really great show for my grandma and her siblings at least, a sense of reliability.

But what's that got to do with us, here in 2024? Since 1972, a lot has changed. Channels have been added, you could tape things, record them for later, DVDs came out, and now, we are in the age of the streaming service. The show has been running since 1963, and television as a whole has changed. Through 15 Doctors, 41 seasons and 2 different renewals, it's DEFINITELY changed. But it followed mostly the same 'alien-of-the-week' format, and I'd say the new season does that, it's just how it has been excecuted.

So, the show that kids have grown up loving for the past 60 years, FOR FREE might I add, is basically hidden behind a pay wall. In Australia, we grew up with the show on the ABC. I don't actually know if the new season was ever shown on the ABC, but it sure as hell isn't on iview. To find the absolutely appalling, very very short season of television, you have to find it on Disney+. It's no longer the show you'd get on Channel 22 after Spicks and Specks, it's another streaming service 8-episode show that's going to be forgotten in 8-10 weeks.

But what in the new show is bad? What about it makes it so easy to hate? First of all, Ncuti Gatwa is a fantastic actor, but it's similar criticism to Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, great actor, terrible writing. Why is that? Well, opposed to Russell T. Davies' first seasons of Doctor Who, it is complete and utter garbage. We have gone from Rose Tyler, the girl who wrote herself into the stars because she loved the Doctor so much, to Ruby Sunday, an overall forgettable companion who could do so much better if they had better writing happening. People talk about Rogue, saying it was a really great episode of television, but look me in the eyes and say it didn't remind you of series 1, episodes 9-10, The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances or Torchwood series 1, episode 12, Captain Jack Harkness. Why is that? Because Russell T. Davies has basically just recycled the same character he wrote 20 years ago, Jack Harkness. He could have done something better, like recast the character of Jack Harkness (don't get me started on that drama, that's a whole different can of worms) with Jonathan Groff and created a seriously great few episodes, but he didn't. And to end a first series with a finale relating to episodes of television tons of the viewers don't remember or are too young to have watched, it's a crappy way to end it.

The fact that it is only 8 episodes long totally astounds me. They have been doing 22 episodes or 12 at the least per series, but this time it's different. It's nearly like they're TRYING to create an immediately laughable version of Doctor Who. I, personally believe Disney had something to do with that, but that's a different post. We used to have action-packed 22-episode series of television we could talk about until the next one came out, but now, we are simply left with an overall forgettable series of television.

Do better, BBC.

[wildwestdean]

wish list

summary: dean shares his christmas wish with you

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 845

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, confessions, idiots in love

a/n: a short and sweet piece for day one of the Promt-Mas 2024 event in our lovely supernatural writers community; prompt 1 'all i want for christmas'

“What do you want for Christmas?” you asked, phone cradled to your ear. 

It was a simple question, one that had been asked many times before, yet it still made Dean stop in his tracks as he hesitated over his answer. 

“And don’t say pie,” you added playfully, pulling a chuckle from his lips. 

“Well, I can’t answer your question then, sweetheart,” he teased. 

“Oh, c’mon!” you groaned. “There has to be something you want.” 

Dean sighed, kicking his feet up on the table in the war room as he leaned back in his chair. He’s starting to feel like he never leaves this spot, sitting here like a sad puppy waiting for you to walk through the bunker door ever since you left two weeks ago, eager to help Jody and Donna work a case; a case that ended in the three of you taking a girls trip to some retreat in the mountains. 

He wanted you to come home. 

“Dean?” you called softly, pulling him from his thoughts when he took longer than usual to answer. 

“I don’t want anything,” he lied, shrugging his shoulders despite the fact you couldn’t see him. 

“Liar,” you laughed, easily picking up on his fib.

He couldn’t help but smile, the fuzzy feeling settling in his stomach once more at the realization of how well you know him. 

“What do you want?” he asked, hoping to flip the spotlight onto you. 

“Nuh-uh,” you tsked. “You’re not getting out of this so easily, Winchester.” 

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” he joked, voice laced with laughter. 

“I can be even worse!” you threatened with a laugh. “What if I guess? Will you tell me if I guess it?” 

“Sure, why not?” he agreed, mainly because he knew you’d never get it right. 

He listened with a grin as you rambled on, listing every possible thing that came to your mind for what he may want. Some were things that he himself didn’t even know he wanted, and while he did admit to them being good ideas, he remained adamant they weren’t his main wish; yet still refused to give an inch as to what that may be. 

“Would you stop being so stubborn?” you huffed in exasperation, knowing you should admit defeat but not wanting to; you were just as stubborn as him when it came down to it. 

“Why is it so important to you?” he asked with a laugh, finding your irritation over the situation rather endearing. 

“Because you’re important to me,” you told him. “I don’t want to get you just anything and call it a day. Yeah, I have some things for you already, but I want you to have something that’ll make you truly happy. Something special, y’know?” 

Dean fell silent after your explanation, your words bouncing around in his head as he tried to think of what to say, as he wondered how best to tell you. 

“Are you embarrassed to tell me or something? Because you should know by now that I’d never-” 

“Come home,” he said quietly, cutting off your speech. 

“Stop trying to change the subject,” you chuckled, not understanding what he was telling you. 

“No, I-” he started, taking a shaky breath. “That- that’s what I want.” 

“You… want me to come home?” you questioned, clearly confused. 

“I want you,” he admitted, his heart hammering against his ribcage so fiercely he wondered if you could hear it.

You fell so silent on the other end that he actually had to pull the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.

“Me?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You,” he confirmed, chuckling nervously. “You’re what makes me happy, sweet girl. Hell, there was a point that I thought I’d never be truly happy again… and then one day, you showed up. There’s nothing that’ll be more special to me than you, sweetheart."

“So… what you’re saying is that I don’t need to spend money on you this year?” you asked playfully, trying to cover up your nerves with a joke. 

He let out a laugh, feeling some of his nerves starting to settle. “I’m saying all I want for Christmas is you.” 

“Only for Christmas, though, right?” you wondered, and Dean could just about hear the grin you wore. 

“Well,” Dean said contemplatively. “I was thinking I might keep you for, say… rest of our lives?” 

“Are you seriously confessing your love with a phone call?” you asked with a giggle, feeling giddy beyond belief. 

“No,” he said casually. “I’ll wait until you’re finally home to really say those words.” 

“Oh, okay,” you replied in understanding. “Well, guess it’s a good thing I’m home, then.”

Before he could respond, the bunker door screeched open as you finally stepped inside, and he quickly met your gaze as you grinned down at him from the railing. He matched your grin, standing from the chair as he ended the call. 

“Well,” you called down to him, laughing with glee. “Don’t you have a confession to make?” 

taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester

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[leighsartworks216]

Scar Tissue

Sylus x gn!Reader

Eyyyyy @comatosebunny09 I finally finished it >:3

Based on this post

Title from "Scar Tissue" by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Warnings: cuddling, early relationship, intimacy, injury, guns, knives, semi-nudity

Word Count: 2,421

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

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“Speak.”

The generic carpet muffles his footfalls as he crosses the room to the oversized floor to ceiling windows that peer out over Chansia City. You follow behind him until you get to the dresser, lined neatly with your clothes.

The hotel is very nice, especially high up here in the presidential suite. Though, you haven’t had much time to actually enjoy it. You got here yesterday, and it feels like all you’ve had time for is sleeping and getting dressed. It’s all been meetings, deals and exchanges otherwise. The only reason you’re back here at all is to change clothes to go to dinner with another client.

Sylus sighs, irritation painting his face with a scowl. You can just barely hear Luke’s voice on the other end. They’ve been holding down the N109 Zone in Sylus’s absence. “More petty land grabs?”

“Nah, from what we’ve heard it sounds like an affair came to light and now they’re duking it out to win their love.”

You snicker as you pull out a clean shirt. You turn and drop it on the bed, back to Sylus as you take off your shirt, bloody and torn from your earlier meeting. He turns to shoot you a half-amused half-annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Have Mephisto-”

But the words get stuck in his throat. Time seems to slow down as he stares at the bare expanse of your back. Your skin looks like a well-used cutting board. Scar after scar, criss-crossing over each other, fundamentally altering the appearance of your flesh for years to come.

He can pinpoint which were from missions he’d sent you on. Jobs that put you in the line of fire, where you had to fight your way out to survive, where someone got a surprise jump on you.

Others are completely foreign. Cuts and bullet wounds and burn marks, all unfamiliar to him. What secrets from your past do you keep locked away from him? How safe are you from the ones that hurt you? Would you ever tell him if something was wrong? If something cropped up from back then, from a time he’d never know enough of? Perhaps not.

Somehow, the former was worse. Knowing he was the one that sent you into trouble. Or those damn injuries you earned from taking a hit intended for him. Being the root cause for your pain aches more than never knowing the damage you incurred before.

You slip your shirt on, hiding the marks from view, and peek over your shoulder at him, confused by his silence. Time speeds back up.

He schools his features into something neutral, hiding the regret and hurt, and burying it deep down within him. He looks out the windows once more. Luke asks if he’s alright. Sylus ignores it, speaking as if nothing ever happened.

-

Dinner was dull, for the most part. The client didn’t seem to understand that you weren’t there for conversation, repeatedly prompting you to answer questions. You’d have signaled Sylus to put the man in his place, but it was all too amusing to see him flounder.

“What kind of gun do you use?” You’d slipped it from its holder mid sip of wine and dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud. That’d taken him by surprise. He recovered quickly enough, spewing off facts about the make and model that you already knew.

“Has it been modified?” You broke it down and separated the parts that had been replaced or enhanced. He’d curiously reached out to inspect them, but you put it back together before he could touch anything. He paused, but put on a slightly strained, polite smile as he awkwardly sat back in his chair.

“How good is your aim?” You shot the end of his cigarette when he went to tap the ashes into a dish, scaring him so bad he shook the entire table and had to rapidly keep his drink from tipping into his lap.

He seemed content to leave you be after that.

You fall back into the bed, arms spread out wide and still in your dinner attire. Sylus chuckles. “Have fun?” he teases. He sits down beside you, leaning on his arm with an amused grin.

You shoot an unimpressed glare his way. Fabric rustles as you slide your hand along the bed to hold his arm, caressing the tensed muscles of his forearm. “Don’t worry, you can make it up to me.”

His grin turns into a salacious smirk. You smack his bicep. “Not like that.”

“You don’t know what I was going to suggest.” Nonetheless, he kicks off his shoes by the side of the bed and lays down beside you. With one hand acting as a pillow, the other rests comfortably on your stomach. You wrap your arm around his neck to play with his hair. Content, you close your eyes.

The last vestiges of the sun filter through the window. Combined with the few lights in the room, you look… peaceful. It’s starting to become a common sight, and he takes great pleasure in being the one allowed to witness it. These times when you trust him enough to relax. When you stop listening out for the slightest hint of danger. When your body releases the tension constantly preparing your body for an attack. It’s a privilege. He hopes never to take it for granted.

Your fingers flit lazily through his hair. His body still tenses on the onset of your touch. His natural instinct yells for him to pull away, go on the defensive, protect himself. It’s always a battle to fight against them and allow himself to completely trust someone. As this - cuddling together, the small moments of physical intimacy and skinship - become the normal, the fight gets easier and easier.

He wonders if that same defensive instinct wars on in your head when he slips his hand under the hem of your shirt. The first brush of his fingers on your flesh, the flinch of muscle away from the contact, that eases back into his touch after a pause. If it does, you say nothing of it. Rather, when your stomach flinches away, you tug on his hair. An equal exchange. And perhaps a reminder of the lengths you have both gone to expose yourselves to each other.

Calloused fingertips dance across your belly, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Soft ridges and toughened skin of layers of damage done across the years. His mind is shot back to the thoughts he had earlier. You can feel the shift in his touch. The way his fingers lift to barely ghost over your skin, as though you’re as thin and fragile as wet tissue paper. You open your eyes to watch him.

His face is stern. Like when discussing a difficult deal, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are dark. He slowly pushes up the shirt until it rests in a rumpled heap around the bottom of your ribcage. The shift in your breathing latches on at the edge of his senses. Just as with your back, scar after scar decorates your skin. But one stands out from the rest.

Along the line of your hip is a cut. It’s shallow. The skin it tore apart is irritated from lack of care and not having a moment to rest properly.

That’s his fault, too. Dragging you out to a dinner you didn’t really want to go to instead of giving you the opportunity to sleep and heal. Technically, you’re his bodyguard - his guard dog, always by his side, defending him from anyone who you deem a threat. Yet, he’s discomfited by just how quickly you step in to protect him. That’s what this scar is the result of.

The meeting this morning. A fight broke out. He was aiming a gun at the other group leader. One of their lackeys came up from the side with a knife. And you got hit. It had bled, but you’d brushed him off so easily when he mentioned it. You weren’t doubled over, nor were you in a rush to patch it up, so he trusted your judgement. Without a second thought.

Fortunately, your judgement is dependable. All it really needs is a bandage to keep the skin together and bacteria out while it heals, and yet he doesn’t get up. He doesn’t move. All he does is trace alongside it, feeling how it becomes intertwined with the scars before it.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he says, but the tone of his voice is odd. Teasing, edged with something raw. Something more vulnerable. Something that you two have been dancing around for weeks. “Tell me the next time you’re hurt. I’ll patch you up.”

You brush the hair from his face. His red eyes shift first to the bunched up fabric of your shirt, then to yours. His eyes are soft. The deep maroon of before has melted into a bloody crimson.

“I can patch myself up.”

He scoffs with a smirk and the slight tilt of his head. “I wasn’t asking, sweetie.”

You quirk a brow up at him. “Does it bother you?”

“Yeah,” he agrees readily.

Your fingers falter. He brushes his thumb more firmly along the edge of the cut, still light enough that it doesn’t hurt, but with enough force that it no longer feels like he’s treating you like something fragile.

You frown at him, tapping three times at the base of his skull, a silent request for more information. He pushes himself up onto his elbow. It should be salacious, even intimidating, for him to hover over you like this. But it’s not.

His eyes follow his hand as he traces other marks on your belly. A bullet entrance wound here, a Wanderer’s blade there. The ones he caresses are newer. They haven’t yet faded into your skin. Of all of them, he’d only helped treat one or two. Some, he never even knew about, but he could trace back to when, what mission, they were received from.

“How many of these are from protecting me?” he asks lowly. “You do realize I can heal from all of these much faster than you can, don’t you, sweetie?”

You tilt your head. “It bothers you… that I do my job?”

He chuckles, but the mirth doesn’t reach his eyes. “You could stand to be a little less efficient at it.”

The world falls quiet. The sun disappears, leaving darkness in her wake. The orange glow of the hotel lamps forms mountains and valleys along your skin. You study him, searching for answers.

Over your lifetime struggling to survive, you’d gotten good at reading people, Sylus included. Of course, he had broken your assumptions and expectations. If he hadn’t, you’d never have let him get so close. Never have allowed him to touch you like this, see your skin like this.

Right now, you can’t understand him.

He hired you to be his bodyguard, to protect him. To be his own personal shield when shit hits the fan. But he doesn’t want you to? A lingering fear in your mind worries for the end of your partnership. Would he really touch you like this if he wanted to fire you? Besides, when you made the damn deal, he said only you would have the power to call it off. He wasn’t someone to go against his word.

You drop your hand from his hair. His eyes snap to you, a flicker of fear that is snuffed out when you touch his chest. He’s still wearing his nice dress shirt, jacket discarded elsewhere. You play with one of the buttons. “How many times have you stepped in to protect me?” you ask.

Countless times. More and more frequently.

“Do you let any of them scar?”

He slowly shakes his head. It’s always second nature for him to use his Evol to take care of any and all injuries. Anything that could scar is gone before he has a chance to think about it, so long as he’s in the right conditions to use it.

“Then you can’t understand.”

He hums. “Enlighten me.”

You grin. Gliding your hand from his chest, down his arm, you hold the back of his where it rests on your stomach. It doesn’t take much effort to guide him. He watches, feels the scars that scrape by, as you bring it back back down to your hip, until his palm rests over the cut. It will heal within a couple of weeks, probably less. Once it’s healed, it will scar over. Once it scars over, it will be nothing more than a lasting memory embedded in your skin.

“They’re badges,” you say quietly. When he looks back up at you, you’re watching his hand, trailing your fingertips over the veins that decorate them. “I earned them from protecting you.”

So why would I not want them?

It goes unsaid, but he catches it anyway in the gentle reverence of your carress, the quirk of your brow when you look at him wordlessly asking if he can understand now. It doesn’t need to be said.

He slips his hand out from under yours. The bed shifts with his weight as he turns and gets up. You feel the loss immediately. It’s easy to hide the disappointment, but it churns over in your gut, more distinctly than you’ve ever felt it before, as he disappears around the corner of the wall. Did he really hate them so much?

He returns a minute later when you’re considering fixing your shirt with a medkit in hand. He sits on his knees, sets the kit down beside your body, and opens it up to get what he needs. The disinfectant stings as he wipes it along the cut, but you hardly feel it when he just looks so beautiful. So focused on taking care of you.

“Tell me when you're hurt,” he reminds you. He unspools a length of gauze and wraps it around your midsection securely. He glances at you with a slight grin as he grabs a roll of bandages from the kit. “They won’t scar well if they get infected first.”

A week later, you’re the one patching him up. He sits calmly on the couch as you draw a needle through the skin of his bicep. It’s just a knife wound. Earned from stepping in to protect you.

He can’t wait to see the scar.

---

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