#with fate always nudging things along

[julietsf1]

From Raya to Rivalry - Franco Colapinto x Sainz!Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz's little sister is pushed to the limit when rookie Franco Colapinto, who stood her up after a flirtatious encounter on Raya, re-enters her life—without any sign he remembers her at all. Between race weekends and time with friends the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore. Will Franco finally remember why she’s been driving him mad all along?

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Charles wearing those hideous pants again. Possibly wrong Spanish?

AN: Sup sweeties!! Another one! 9k words oh my days... inspired after seeing him on Raya last weekend, help me manifest a match pls lmaooo

___

The Singapore paddock was buzzing with its usual mix of high-speed energy and humidity so thick you could practically swim in it. Most people hated the sticky heat, but I loved the chaos of it all—the lights, the fans, the noise. Normally, I’d be soaking it all in, grinning from ear to ear, but today… well, today was different.

Because today, I was about to meet Franco Colapinto. Or rather, remeet him.

“Y/N!” Carlos’s voice called out to me as I made my way through the maze of hospitality suites. I spotted him standing with a guy I hadn’t seen in months—but who I recognized immediately. Short brown hair, that annoyingly perfect face, and a grin that screamed trouble.

“Come here!” Carlos waved me over, looking way too pleased with himself.

I made my way toward them, my mind racing. Franco Colapinto. Of all the people Carlos could’ve become friends with, it had to be him.

“This is Franco,” Carlos said, introducing the rookie driver standing next to him, completely unaware of the history. “He’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

Franco extended his hand, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face like we hadn’t met before. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I hesitated for a split second, surprised he didn’t seem to remember me. I forced a smile, shaking his hand. “You too,” I said, keeping my tone neutral even though irritation bubbled under the surface.

He didn’t remember. Seriously?

Carlos, oblivious as ever, kept the introductions going. “I’m showing him around first time in Singapore—helping him settle in.”

Franco’s smirk only grew as he glanced at me. “Carlos told me a lot about you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” he replied, his tone smooth. “Apparently, you’re always by his side, keeping him in check.”

I forced an awkward laugh. “Someone has to.”

Franco chuckled, and I hated how casual he was, how easy this all seemed for him. How could he not remember?

Carlos nudged Franco. “She’s tough. But you’ll get used to her.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a feeling we’ll get along just fine,” Franco said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I forced a tight smile. “Sure. We’ll see about that.”

The second we’d been introduced, I knew this weekend was going to be hell. Not only did Franco seem every bit as cocky as I remembered, but the fact that he didn’t even recognize me? That stung more than I cared to admit.

"Look at us! Latinos taking care of Latinos!" Carlos proclaimed, slinging an arm around Franco’s shoulders like they were long-lost brothers. 

“We’re Spanish, Carlos. Not Latinos,” I corrected him for what had to be the hundredth time.

Carlos just waved me off. “Same difference, hermana.”

I shrugged; it was no use. Carlos had it in his head that he and Franco were kindred spirits, bonded by heritage and brought together by fate.

Franco didn’t even seem to care though. He’d just grin at Carlos, play along, and occasionally throw in a “sí, jefe” for good measure, which, for some reason, made Carlos beam with pride. And every time he did it, I swear, a small part of my sanity chipped away.

It wasn’t just that Franco was arrogant—plenty of the guys on the grid had egos to match their talent. No, my problem with Franco was that I knew him. And not just in the “we’ve crossed paths a few times” way. No, this was personal.

We’d met on Raya a while back. You know, that exclusive dating app for “famous” people. I’d been curious—mostly out of boredom—and swiped right when his profile popped up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t my type; he was cute, in that annoyingly perfect way. But there was something about his bio, some sarcastic line about how he was “not just here for friends,” that made me pause. Still, I swiped.

We’d exchanged messages for a week or so. Flirty, teasing. Nothing too deep. He was funny, I’ll give him that. And then we’d made plans to meet up. Dinner at a rooftop restaurant in Monaco. Classic.

Except… he never showed up.

No text. No call. Just nothing.

I’d waited for over an hour, feeling like a complete idiot, checking my phone every few minutes as people around me gave me sympathetic looks. I left that night swearing off drivers for good.

And now here he was, strolling around the paddock with Carlos like he hadn’t completely ghosted me months ago. Worse still, he didn’t even seem to recognize me. The same smirk, the same cocky attitude, but no flicker of recognition.

The audacity.

I mean, sure, I wasn’t about to bring up a failed Raya date in the middle of race weekend, but still. A part of me wanted to shake him and scream, “Seriously? You don’t remember me?!”

But instead, I kept my cool. Sort of.

“Franco’s a quick learner,” Carlos said, turning to Lando, who’d just wandered over with his usual laid-back grin. “Picked up on everything in no time.”

Franco gave a modest shrug, but the look in his eyes was anything but humble. “I’ve got a good teacher.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I don’t know if Carlos is the best person to be learning from, mate.”

“Hey!” Carlos protested, but his grin showed he didn’t mind the teasing. “Just watch—you’ll see Franco out there killing it this weekend.”

I rolled my eyes, hanging back as the boys bantered. Franco was already fitting in too easily, blending into the group like he’d been there all along. Normally, I’d be cracking jokes, joining in on the fun, but every time I looked at Franco, that old irritation flared up. I couldn’t help it. The guy brought out the worst in me.

“So, Y/N,” Lando said, turning his attention to me. “What’s the verdict on the new rookie?”

Before I could answer, Franco cut in with a grin. “I think she likes me. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You know,” Franco said, leaning in slightly, that smirk never leaving his face. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“How can someone be so full of themselves?” I looked at Franco in disbelief. 

Lando burst out laughing, clapping Franco on the shoulder. “Mate, I think you’ve met your match.”

Franco chuckled, completely unfazed. “Glad her brother is fun at least.”

Carlos, completely missing half of the conversation, tuned in again. “See? Latinos taking care of Latinos.”

I shot Franco a glare. “We are not Latino, Carlos.”

“Details,” Carlos waved dismissively, already walking ahead toward the press conference room. “Come on, we’ve got a schedule.”

As we made our way through the paddock, I kept a few steps behind, watching Franco saunter beside Carlos like he owned the place. Every time he laughed or tossed his hair back, my hands itched to strangle him. How could someone be so infuriatingly charming? And why did everyone seem to love him?

Because he’s a flirt. That’s why. He charms his way out of everything.

Like that time he charmed me into thinking he was actually interested.

By the time we reached the press conference room, I was already dreading what was about to happen. Franco, armed with a microphone and an audience? This was going to be a disaster.

Carlos took his seat beside Franco, and I hung back by the entrance, watching the chaos unfold.

It didn’t take long for Franco to work his magic. The first question was simple: “Franco, you’re new to the grid. How’s the experience treating you so far?”

He smiled, leaning toward the mic. “It’s been... quite the ride,” he said, his voice dripping with that smooth, confident tone. “But I like rides. The faster, the better.”

I felt my eye twitch.

The reporters chuckled, but Franco wasn’t done.

“Any nerves going into your first race here in Singapore?” another reporter asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Franco’s grin widened. “Nerves? No. Excitement, maybe. A first ride is always a fun challenge! Can’t wait to get familiar with all the curves of the circuit.”

I groaned, quietly enough so only the people nearby could hear. I caught a few knowing glances from the journalists around me, and I was tempted to yell, “I’m not with him!” but held my tongue.

“He’s unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.

Unfortunately, Franco’s hearing was sharper than I’d anticipated. He turned his head, locking eyes with me for a split second, and that smirk—God, that smirk—widened as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Handling the heat well, Franco?” another reporter asked, her tone light and teasing.

Franco leaned back, grinning. “Heat’s never been a problem for me. I like it hot actually.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole. Or possibly throw something at him. How could one person be this insufferable?

“And what’s been the highlight of your time in Singapore so far?” one of the female reporters asked, her tone more flirtatious than professional.

Franco grinned, locking eyes with her. “The highlight? Let’s just say there’s been plenty to... keep me entertained.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole. Or possibly throw something at him. How could one person be this insufferable.

By the time the press conference wrapped up, I was practically vibrating with irritation. Carlos was chatting with a few reporters when Franco sauntered over, his confidence turned up to eleven.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I forced a smile, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “It was... enlightening.”

He chuckled. “You seem tense. Maybe you should try smiling once in a while.”

I blinked, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ll smile when you stop talking.”

His grin widened, clearly enjoying this way too much. “So, never then?”

Before I could respond, Carlos reappeared, blissfully unaware of the tension brewing between us. “Ready to head to dinner?”

Franco gave me one last smirk before turning to Carlos with a casual, “Let’s go.”

As they walked away, I stood there, fuming.

This weekend was going to be hell.

.

The city lights of Singapore sparkled in the background as we arrived at the restaurant, one of Carlos’s favorite spots. It was tucked away, hidden from the main buzz of the city, the kind of place that only locals and celebrities knew about. Naturally, Carlos acted like he was both.

The rest of the group was already there when we walked in. Charles, Lando, George, and Alexandra were scattered around the table, mid-conversation. They waved us over, and I took a seat between Alexandra and Lando, leaving Carlos and Franco on the other side of the table.

“About time,” Lando grinned, motioning to the drinks. “We’ve already started, and George is on his second story about the ‘importance of a good cravat.’”

George shot Lando a withering look. “I do not recall making that remark. Besides, I would never subject these fine people to a lecture on cravats—unless they specifically requested it.”

Lando snickered. “Sure, mate. I’m sure everyone here was just dying to know how to tie the perfect Windsor knot.”

George adjusted the nonexistent collar on his shirt, sitting up straighter. “Actually, it’s the Prince Albert knot. Very distinguished.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Please, no more knot talk, George. I’m still recovering from the last fashion seminar you gave us.”

I grinned, watching as George tried to defend his sartorial wisdom, while Lando and Charles tag-teamed to poke fun. It was typical—Lando being the class clown, George being... well, George.

Franco slipped into his seat beside Carlos, flashing that smug grin as if he was the star of the night. I immediately braced myself, knowing where this dinner was going to head.

I was happy to be seated next to Alexandra. Over the past year, we had grown really close after watching each race together in the Ferrari motorhome. She was one of the kindest and most intelligent girls I had ever met, and also one of the only friends I had confided in about the whole Franco mess. 

Alex sent me a beaming smile as I sat down, subtly grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. “So glad you could make it tonight!”

I smiled back, tension slowly falling off my shoulders. “Missed you loads, Alex!”

The waiter came around, taking our drink orders, and for a moment, the chatter filled the space, making it easy for me to avoid engaging with Franco. Lando was still on about FP2, sharing exaggerated stories about his heroic saves during the practice session.

“And then—just as I thought I was gonna bin it—bam! I pulled off the most insane save. I’m telling you, pure Norris finesse,” Lando said, throwing in dramatic hand gestures.

George raised an eyebrow, sipping his drink like an English lord. “Oh yes, the Norris magic... or, as the rest of the world calls it, ‘sheer dumb luck..’”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest theatrically. “Dumb luck? I’ll have you know that the precision with which I operate is unparalleled.”

“Uh-huh,” Charles smirked, leaning back in his chair. “If by finesse you mean nearly crashing into the barriers, then yeah—spot on.”

Lando threw up his hands in mock defeat. “You know, I don’t have to sit here and take this kind of abuse. I could be at karaoke right now, stealing the show with my rendition of ‘Wonderwall.’”

I laughed. “Karaoke? Again? I still haven’t recovered from your ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ performance at Fewtrell’s birthday party.”

Lando winked. “It was legendary, and you know it.”

George smirked. “Legendary for all the wrong reasons. I’m still wondering how you managed to be both off-key and out of sync at the same time.”

Alex leaned in, grinning. “I think we should all be grateful Lando isn’t a professional singer.”

Lando pouted. “Fine, fine. Take away a man’s dreams. Just for that, I’m definitely doing ‘Wonderwall’ next.”

The banter was light and fun, and for a while, it felt like a typical dinner with friends. But then, of course, Franco had to open his mouth.

“So, Y/N,” Franco said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’ve been traveling with Carlos for a while now, haven’t you?”

I tensed slightly, not sure where he was going with this. “Yeah, a few seasons.”

“Must be nice,” Franco continued, that smirk never leaving his face. “Traveling the world, living the F1 life...”

I felt the undertone of his comment, but I stayed neutral. “It has its perks, I guess.”

Lando, sensing the shift in tone, jumped in. “Y/N’s basically our paddock princess at this point. She runs this place better than half the team bosses.”

Carlos grinned, clearly loving the banter. “Y/N’s like my second team principal. Only scarier.”

Alex nudged me gently, her voice soft. “I don’t know how you handle them all, Y/N.”

I smiled, feeling a bit more at ease with my friends supporting me. But then Franco, never one to let things rest, spoke up again.

“Yeah, it must be nice,” he said, his tone sharper now, though still laced with that smug charm. “Getting to enjoy the F1 life without actually having to work for it.”

I froze, my grip tightening around my glass. There it was. He’d been building up to that jab all night.

Before I could respond, I felt a light touch on my arm. Alex, sensing the shift in my mood, shot me a concerned glance. “You okay?” she whispered, her eyes searching mine.

I gave her a small, tight nod. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

She squeezed my arm gently, a silent reminder that she had my back.

“Already upset by that? Thought you’d have a thicker skin than that, Y/N.” he smirked. 

I shot Franco a tight smile, my patience wearing thin. “Oh, I’m definitely enjoying it here, Franco. What’s it like by the way, being the rookie who’s all ego but without a seat for next year?”

Lando choked on his drink, turning it into a cough to cover his laugh. George raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, while Carlos looked mildly concerned but didn’t intervene.

Franco, though? He loved it. He grinned like he’d just won the verbal sparring round. “Touché. But at least I’m doing something with my life.”

My eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is that? Besides trying to flirt with every reporter in sight?”

He leaned back, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I miss you swooning? Or were you too busy hanging onto Carlos’s wallet?”

The table went quiet for a beat, the playful banter coming to an abrupt halt.

George immediately jumped in, waving his hands. “Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down, people. No need to escalate. We’re all friends here. Except maybe you two. You two seem like... frenemies? Enemies with benefits? I’m not really sure anymore.”

Lando snickered, jumping on George’s bandwagon. “Enemies with benefits—that’s a movie I’d watch. Maybe we should take bets on how long it’ll be before you two—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Norris,” I warned, cutting him off.

Lando just grinned wider. “You know me too well.”

Franco, ever the instigator, leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the way George and Lando were trying to ease the tension. “I think George is onto something. Maybe frenemies is the right word.”

I shot Franco a look. “More like enemies, full stop.”

Charles nodded dramatically, ignoring my pointed glare. “Yep, definitely frenemies. A modern romance in the making.”

Alexandra elbowed me gently under the table, shooting me a knowing look, but I ignored her. The banter between Franco and me had always been sharp, but tonight it felt like something was shifting. The sarcasm was still there, but there was a new edge to it—one that I wasn’t liking too much.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of conversations and laughter, with George and Lando regularly cutting in whenever the tension between Franco and me threatened to boil over. Every so often, Franco would throw another sly remark my way, and I’d respond with one just as cutting. It was like a game neither of us could resist playing, even though it was obvious that everyone else at the table was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the tension.

By the time dessert arrived, the atmosphere had cooled slightly, but I was still on edge. Franco hadn’t let up the entire night, and I could feel his eyes on me even as I pretended to focus on my crème brûlée.

“So,” Lando said, trying to break the awkwardness again, “who’s ready for some karaoke after this?”

George immediately perked up, always the entertainer. “Oh, I’m in. I’ve been working on my acapella version of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”

Charles groaned, “Please, not again.”

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, the mood lightened. But as the night drew to a close, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the dynamic between Franco and me was shifting into dangerous territory. The sarcastic comments were becoming more personal.

Carlos stood, stretching and pulling out his phone. “Alright, we should call it a night. Big day tomorrow.”

The group began to gather their things, preparing to leave, but Franco lingered by the door, his eyes catching mine for the hundredth time that evening.

“Good night, Y/N,” he said, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

I shot him a tight smile. “Night, Franco. Try not to let all that charm go to your head.”

He grinned. “Too late.”

With that, we all parted ways. Carlos walked beside me, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. This was only going to get worse.

.

One thing about Carlos is that he is a man of habits. Every race, we either play padel or golf the morning before the qualification. Just us two, to get his head clear and stuff, a peaceful moment. So when Carlos invited Franco and me to play golf with Lando, I could already sense how this was going to go.

“I hope you’re ready,” Carlos said, swinging his club dramatically as we arrived at the pristine green course. The morning sun glinted off the lush landscape, and birds chirped in the background like we were about to film a serene nature documentary. Definitely at odds with how my lovely company was making me feel. 

Lando was already halfway through his first practice swing, clearly just happy to be outside and away from the track for a bit. “You guys know I’m going to win, right?” he said, flashing his signature mischievous grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Please. The last time we played, you couldn’t even make it past the windmill at the mini-golf course.”

“Hey!” Lando protested. “That windmill was rigged. I swear it wasn’t regulation size.”

“Uh-huh. Sure Go call the stewards to whine about it.”

He laughed and jokingly rolled his eyes at me. 

Carlos tapped Franco on the shoulder, handing him a golf club. “Franco. Focus. You might be a rookie on the grid, but you can’t afford to be a rookie here.”

Franco smirked, clearly unfazed by the competition. “I don’t know, Carlos. I think I’ll be just fine.”

The vibes were good at first, as we each took turns at the tee. Lando, predictably, spent more time making jokes than actually playing, which was a nice distraction—until Franco started making subtle digs.

“You sure you don’t just want to be our caddy, Y/N?” Franco asked, adjusting his own stance. “It might be easier for you to handle.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, gripping my club tighter. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He grinned. “Just checking. I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.”

I lined up my shot, trying to focus, but it was impossible not to notice Franco standing a few feet away. His white shirt made his tan even more striking under the morning sun, and his hair, still slightly messy, added to that infuriating, effortless charm. My eyes kept drifting back to him—how the fabric clung to his broad shoulders, the casual confidence in every move. Just as I was about to swing, he caught me looking. That smug grin appeared, and I immediately looked away, gripping the club tighter. The nerves in my stomach went crazy suddenly. I swung too hard, sending the ball off into the trees, nowhere near the hole.

Lando snorted. “Wow. Impressive.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up, Norris.”

Franco chuckled, his voice annoyingly smooth. “Need me to fetch that for you?”

“I’d rather fetch it myself than owe you any favors,” I snapped, heading off in the direction of the lost ball.

As I disappeared into the trees, I heard Lando muttering behind me, “They’re like an old married couple. It’s wild.”

I rolled my eyes, but the comment stayed with me as I searched for the ball. An old married couple? More like two neighbours in a judge judy episode. At least, that’s what I told myself.

When I finally returned, ball in hand, I noticed Franco lining up his shot, a smug look on his face. And of course, he hit it perfectly—right toward the hole, as if to rub salt in the wound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, tossing my ball back onto the course.

“You’ll get it next time,” Franco said, his tone dripping with fake encouragement. “Maybe just... aim a little better.”

My jaw clenched. “I swear, if you say one more thing—”

“What? You’ll beat me with your superior golf skills?” He flashed that infuriating grin again, and something in me snapped.

“I’ll beat you with this club if you give me any more reason to,” I shot back. 

Lando, who was clearly enjoying the show, whistled. “Oh man, this is getting spicy. Should I grab popcorn for us Carlos?”

Carlos shook his head, finally sensing the rising tension. “Let’s keep it civil, guys.”

But that ship had already sailed. Franco and I were now locked in a full-blown competition, every swing of the club feeling like a personal challenge. My frustration grew with each passing round, especially as Franco continued to hit one perfect shot after another, all while making snide comments under his breath.

As Franco lined up for his next shot, he muttered something in Spanish, just loud enough for me to hear. “¿Cómo es posible que siempre estés tan enojada?” How is it possible that you're always so angry?

I stopped mid-swing, narrowing my eyes at him. “¿Perdón?” Excuse me?

“Digo, si te relajaras un poco, tal vez serías... soportable,” Franco replied with a shrug. “Dudo que sea posible, pero quién sabe.” I’m saying, if you relaxed a little, you might actually be... tolerable. I doubt it’s possible, but who knows.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping. “¿Soportable? No creo que tengas ningún derecho de hablar de soportar nada cuando eres el ser humano más insoportable que existe.” Tolerable? I don’t think you have any right to talk about tolerating anything when you’re the most insufferable human being that exists.

Franco chuckled, completely unfazed by my insult. “¿Ah sí? ¿Insoportable, yo?” Oh yeah? Insufferable, me?

“Sí, tú. ¿Te sorprende?” I shot back. “Porque honestamente no entiendo cómo alguien puede soportarte.” Yes, you. Does that surprise you? Because honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can stand you.

“Qué drama, Y/N. Si no sabías que te caía tan mal, tal vez me habría ahorrado el esfuerzo,” he replied, his tone mocking. What drama, Y/N. If I had known you hated me this much, maybe I would have saved myself the effort.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Eso sería genial.” That would be great.

Lando, hearing the rapid switch to Spanish, looked between us with raised eyebrows. “Whoa, what’s happening? Can we switch back to English? I’m missing all the tea.”

Carlos sighed, trying to keep the peace. “They’re just... passionate.”

Lando grinned. “Yeah, passionate about killing each other, maybe.”

Franco, still smirking, leaned in a little closer. “¿Sabes qué? Tal vez no te caigo tan mal como dices. Creo que te encanta pelear conmigo.” You know what? Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you say. I think you love fighting with me.

My frustration flared even more. “Me encantaría no tener que verte nunca más.” I’d love to never see you again.

“No creo que sea cierto,” Franco teased. I don’t think that’s true.

“¡Cállate!” I practically growled, my patience officially worn thin. Shut up!

Lando, now fully entertained, clapped his hands together. “Alright, alright. You two seriously need to cool off. This is golf, not a soap opera.”

Franco finally backed off, still grinning like he’d won the argument. I was fuming, and it didn’t help that every time I looked at him, he seemed so... calm. It was infuriating.

The rest of the game was a blur of snide comments, sarcastic remarks, and way too much tension for what was supposed to be a friendly game. By the end, I was ready to hurl my golf club into the nearest lake.

Lando, of course, took the whole thing in stride, wrapping an arm around both me and Franco as we finished up. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? We should do this again sometime. Maybe next time without the whole ‘I want to strangle you’ vibe.”

Franco chuckled, giving me a sideways glance. “I don’t know, I think the tension added something.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling away from Lando’s arm. “You would think that.”

Carlos, still oblivious to the volcanic-level tension, checked his phone. “Alright, let’s head back. We’ve got a busy schedule.”

Franco shot me one last smirk before following Carlos to the car. I stood there for a moment, watching him walk away, the frustration boiling over again.

Lando leaned in, his voice low. “You know, this whole enemies-to-lovers vibe you two have going on is a real treat for me.”

I shot him a glare. “There is no ‘lovers’ anything.”

He grinned. “Not yet, darling.”

With that, he jogged off after Carlos and Franco, leaving me standing there, shaking my head.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

.

After the hectic race weekend it was time to go home again, in Carlos’s case home was a beautiful country between France and Italy. Monaco was every bit as picturesque as people said—yachts dotting the harbor, luxury cars roaring through the narrow streets, and the smell of the sea mingling with high-end perfume in the air. It was the kind of place where the rich and famous went to flaunt what they had, and Carlos loved it. Naturally, he always loved inviting me for a visit. This time along with a certain Argentine unfortunately.

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos had said when I tried to protest. “It’ll be fun! The weather’s perfect, we’ll explore the city, and we’ve got clubbing plans tonight. What could go wrong?”

So here I was, walking down the sun-drenched streets of Monaco with Franco striding a few steps ahead, Carlos chatting away beside him. The group had grown since we’d arrived—Alex Albon had joined us since he lived next door to Carlos, and Lando and Charles, both Monaco residents, decided to tag along as well.

“Alright, Carlos, I’ll admit it,” I said as we strolled through the streets. “Monaco’s got charm.”

Carlos grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I told you. Best place in the world.”

I chuckled. “I’m not going that far, but I’m willing to appreciate it. I’d have more fun though if I didn’t have to watch Franco pretend he’s king of Monaco.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Relax. He’s not taking that title from Charles any time soon. He’s just enjoying Monte Carlo.”

“Yeah, enjoy it with every girl who crosses his path,” I muttered, watching as Franco winked at a passing woman who giggled in response.

Lando, catching my glare, sidled up beside me, grinning. “Ah, the drama is back. The sole reason why I’m here.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said, though a smile tugged at my lips despite myself.

I was trying, really. The sun was shining, the atmosphere was relaxed, and even though Franco was a few steps ahead of me, I figured I could let it slide—for now. I wasn’t going to let him ruin my day in this beautiful place.

As we meandered through the harbor, I nudged Lando, who was soaking in the views with his usual enthusiasm. “Bet you wish you had a yacht like one of these.”

Lando flashed a grin. “Give me a couple more wins, and you’ll see me with the biggest one in the harbor.”

“Oh, you’ll name it after yourself, I’m sure,” I teased.

“Obviously. It’ll be called Seao,” he joked, striking a ridiculous pose.

“The what now?” I asked confused.

“Get it? Like Land-o, Sea-o?” he said with the proudest face ever. 

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll be sure to stay far, far away from it.”

Lando gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Y/N. I was going to offer you the best cabin!”

The lighthearted banter was helping to keep my mood up, and even as Franco joined the conversation with that usual swagger, I managed to stay upbeat. For now.

“You know, Y/N,” Franco said, giving me that infuriating grin, “you’d look great on one of those yachts. You’ve got the whole ‘Monaco gold digger vibe’ down.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile lingered on my face. “Nice try, Franco. Flattery’s not going to work on me.”

“Who said I was flattering you?” he shot back with a wink.

Before I could respond, Charles chimed in, proudly displaying his fashion choices for the evening. “What do you think of these pants?” he asked, clearly fishing for compliments on his intersting patchwork denim.

Lando snorted. “I think it’s a crime against fashion.”

I giggled, taking in the ridiculousness of Charles’s outfit. “It’s... bold, Charles. Very bold.”

Charles looked pleased. “It’s couture.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” I said with a laugh, earning an approving look from Lando.

The day continued on with playful banter and an easygoing atmosphere. We explored the city, enjoyed lunch at a café with an incredible view of the sea, and even though Franco occasionally made snide comments, I let them roll off my back. I wasn’t going to let him get under my skin today.

As the sun dipped behind the Monaco skyline, the group started getting ready for the night out. The air buzzed with excitement—everyone still riding the high from Lando’s win last week—but I couldn’t shake the unease settling in my stomach. I knew exactly what was coming. Franco, who looked like he’d just stepped out of some annoyingly perfect cologne ad, would be in full flirt mode, and I was not going to enjoy his little display. 

Lando, ever the showman, stretched dramatically as we gathered at Carlos’s apartment. “Monaco nightlife, everyone. Prepare yourselves for the full Norris experience.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “The Norris experience? What’s that? Getting involved in drama you didn’t start but somehow make worse?”

Lando smirked, undeterred. “Hey, the drama just follows me. I’m an innocent bystander.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, innocent. I’m still trying to figure out how those girls at the last afterparty got into a massive fight about you and you walked away untouched.”

Charles snickered, nodding. “Lando’s like a magnet for girl drama. He’s always in the middle of the mess but always forgiven somehow.”

Lando shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? Some people just have that natural charm.”

Charles snickered. “No amount of charm can compete with Franco’s... well, Franco-ness.”

I sighed, already dreading the inevitable. “Yeah, lucky us. Another night watching him do his thing.”

We arrived at the club, neon lights flashing, music already pounding through the air. And, of course, Franco didn’t waste any time. Within minutes, he was at the bar, leaning in close to two women, his signature smirk on full display. The worst part? He looked effortlessly good. Hair perfectly tousled, his shirt just tight enough to show off his broad shoulders... it was annoying how well he pulled it off.

I slid into the booth next to Lando, my drink in hand, trying to ignore how damn good Franco looked tonight. “How long do you think it’ll take before he’s flirted with every girl in here?” I muttered.

Lando glanced over at Franco, then back at me, a grin already forming. “Hmm... five minutes, tops. He’s like a sniper. Quick, precise.”

Charles chuckled, leaning in. “Make that four. You look like you’re about to march over there and take him out yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I couldn’t care less who he’s talking to.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, really? Because that death stare you’re giving those girls suggests otherwise.”

“I am not giving them a death stare,” I shot back, probably a bit too defensively.

Charles smirked. “Sure you’re not. You’re just... monitoring the situation. Very closely.”

I scoffed, trying to keep my cool. “I just don’t understand how someone can be that... shallow.”

Lando shrugged, barely suppressing his laughter. “Or maybe he’s just really, really good-looking. I mean, come on, Y/N, you’ve noticed.”

I shot Lando a glare, but my cheeks felt hot. “Not helping, Lando.”

Lando leaned back in the booth, looking smug. “What? It’s okay to admit it. Franco’s got that whole ‘sexy and Spanish speaking’ thing going for him. You’re allowed to be jealous.”

I groaned, taking a bigger sip of my drink. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t get why people fall for that whole act.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, his grin only growing. “Oh, so it’s the act you’re mad at. Not the fact that he’s talking to those girls?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Exactly. It’s the act. He’s a walking cliché.”

Lando exchanged a glance with Charles, the two of them clearly enjoying my frustration. “Right, right, it’s the act. Not the fact that every time he smiles at them, you look like you want to burn this place down,” Lando teased.

I groaned, leaning further back into the booth. “You two are impossible.”

“Impossible, but not wrong,” Charles said, smirking as he raised his glass to toast. “To Franco’s charm—and Y/N’s growing annoyance.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not about the charm. It’s the fact that—”

“—he’s ridiculously good-looking, and it’s pissing you off?” Lando finished for me.

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I hated that they weren’t entirely wrong. Franco was annoyingly good-looking. And watching him flash that stupid grin at anyone within a five-foot radius was making me grind my teeth.

“You’re so totally jealous,” Lando declared with a triumphant grin.

“I am not jealous,” I protested, feeling the heat rise in my face. “I just think it’s ridiculous that he’s—”

“—charming the entire club while he should be talking with you?” Charles added, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I glared at them both, trying to keep my composure. “I don’t care who he talks to.”

“Right,” Lando said, winking. “That’s why you haven’t stopped looking at him since we sat down.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “I’m not doing this tonight.”

Lando raised his glass in mock toast. “Famous last words, Y/N. Famous last words.”

Charles chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “You know, if you suddenly get the urge to go over there and throw a drink in his face, I’ll cover the next round.”

I shot him a look. “I’m not throwing drinks at anyone. But if he flirts with one more girl, I might reconsider.”

Lando burst out laughing, nudging me. “I’ll be ready with the camera. Would make a killer lando.jpg comeback post.’”

I sighed, swirling my drink as Franco’s laughter drifted over from the bar. His stupid, perfect laugh. This was going to be a long night.

After ordering his drink, Franco sauntered back to the table, his usual cocky grin in place. “Having fun, Y/N?” he asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

“Oh, absolutely,” I replied sarcastically. “Watching you work your charm on half the club is just... delightful.”

Franco chuckled, sliding into the booth across from me. “You know, Y/N, you should try it sometime. Flirting. It might make you less... uptight.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uptight?”

“You heard me.” He leaned back, smirking. “You’re always so... tense. Maybe if you loosened up, you’d have a bit more fun.”

I could feel my annoyance rising, but I forced a smile. “Right. Because flirting with strangers is the key to happiness.”

Franco shrugged. “It’s a start.”

“You are so sad.” I shot back. “Getting your validation from strangers, never taking anything seriously.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I take plenty of things seriously.”

“Really? Because it sure seems like all you care about is attention. Who you can charm next. Who’s going to fall for your dumb act.”

Franco’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered. “And what exactly is your problem, Y/N? You act like you’re so above it all.”

“Maybe because I don’t need to rely on shallow charm to get by,” I retorted. “Some of us actually have depth.”

“Oh, right,” Franco said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “What is it exactly you rely on then? Besides your brother’s finances, of course.”

Switching to Spanish, I snapped, “¿Sabes qué? Estoy harta de tu actitud de sabelotodo.” You know what? I’m sick of your know-it-all attitude.

“¿Y qué vas a hacer al respecto?” Franco replied, his voice low and challenging. And what are you going to do about it?

“Voy a ignorarte, como debería haberlo hecho desde el principio,” I hissed. I’m going to ignore you, like I should have done from the start.

“Claro, porque ignorar las cosas es lo tuyo, ¿verdad?” Franco shot back. Of course, because ignoring things is what you do best, right?

Lando, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, suddenly jumped in. “Okay, hold up! Time-out. We’re not turning this club into a fight club, alright? I’ve seen Brad Pitt way too many times already this season.”

Carlos, still deep in conversation with Alex, remained blissfully unaware, but the tension at the table was palpable.

Franco leaned back, his smirk returning. “Whatever you say, Y/N. Keep telling yourself you’ve got it all figured out.”

I stood up, glaring at him. “You’re not worth this argument.”

“Good to know,” Franco replied with a shrug, as if the whole conversation had barely affected him.

I turned on my heel, heading straight for the bar to get another drink. As I left, I could still feel Franco’s eyes on me, that smug grin probably plastered on his pretty face. 

.

The night had that strange Monaco mix of high-energy and quiet tension. The streets were buzzing after our time at the club, but beneath the neon lights and laughter, something more was brewing. I could feel it in the air between Franco and me, unspoken but undeniable.

We all stood by the curb as Carlos waved down a taxi. My mood was already on edge after the club, and I just wanted to get home and forget about the whole night. Franco had been in his element—flirting, chatting, showing off—and I was done.

“Alright, taxi’s here!” Carlos called, gesturing for us to pile in.

I moved to follow, but then Lando, who had been suspiciously quiet, suddenly stepped in. “Actually, Carlos, Y/N and Franco are gonna hang back for a bit,” Lando said, his voice way too casual for someone who clearly had mischief on his mind.

Carlos blinked. “What? Why?”

“Yeah, why?” I echoed, shooting Lando a look.

Lando waved it off with a dismissive hand. “They need some air. Clear their heads. We’ll see you at the apartment.”

Before I could argue, Carlos shrugged and got into the taxi with Alex and Charles, the door closing behind them. In a flash, the car was gone, leaving Franco and me standing on the empty sidewalk, bathed in the glow of the streetlights.

“What the hell was that about?” I muttered, pulling out my phone.

As if on cue, it buzzed with a message from Lando:

Enjoy your walk ;)

I rolled my eyes, showing Franco the text. “Of course. He’s messing with us.”

Franco chuckled beside me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Well, looks like we’re walking.”

I sighed, my frustration already simmering beneath the surface. “Great.”

We started walking in silence, the noise of Monaco nightlife fading behind us as we wound through the quieter streets. Franco was close, but not too close, keeping that distance we’d both grown used to. I could feel his green eyes burning on me occasionally, lingering a bit too long.

After a few minutes of walking, Franco finally spoke. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Oh yeah?” I replied, my voice laced with sarcasm. “About what? How great you are?”

He sighed, clearly realizing I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “About our date.”

I stopped walking, turning to face him. Dumb shock written over my face. The mention of our failed date had been hanging over us since we met again, but I thought he had forgotten me. “So you remember?”

Franco hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t ghost you on purpose, Y/N.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then why didn’t you show up?”

He looked down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “I crashed during testing.”

That caught me off guard. “Wait, what?”

“I had a pretty bad crash during testing with my team,” Franco explained, lifting the sleeve of his shirt to show me a faint scar on his shoulder. “I was out for a while. It happened the morning before we were supposed to meet.”

I stared at the scar, my mind racing. “You crashed? That’s your excuse?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pulling out his phone. “I’ve got footage of it if you don’t believe me. It wasn’t pretty.”

He handed me his phone, and I watched the video of the crash—his car spinning out of control, hitting the barrier, the wreckage that followed. My stomach twisted as I handed the phone back to him.

“I didn’t know,” I muttered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

“I know,” Franco said, pocketing his phone. “By the time I was back on my feet, our chat on Raya was gone. I couldn’t reach you. Didn’t even know you were Carlos’s sister.”

I swallowed hard. Of course I deleted him first thing when I got home. “I figured you just... stood me up.”

Franco shook his head. “I never wanted to. I wanted to explain, but I didn’t know how and honestly... I didn’t want to make it worse. Honestly, I am so sorry Y/N. I did not handle this well at all.”

I stared at him, the anger and hurt I’d held onto for so long starting to unravel. “I just thought you were another guy playing games.”

“I wasn’t playing games,” Franco said, his voice soft but serious. 

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “If we are having a heart to heart, there is something I have to get off my chest as well.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath, deciding it was time to tell the whole truth. “I’ve been traveling with Carlos because... well, because I didn’t really have a choice. I used to be a tennis player. A good one. But I had an injury—tore my ACL. It ended my career.”

Franco’s eyes softened as he listened.

“I’ve been a bit lost ever since. Carlos thought taking me to races would cheer me up, keep me busy,” I continued. “But that’s why I’m here. Not because I want to profit off of him.”

Franco’s expression shifted, guilt flickering across his face. “I didn’t know, Y/N. I... I’m sorry. I’ve been a jerk.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice catching slightly. “You kind of have.”

There was a heavy silence between us as everything settled. The frustration, the misunderstandings, all the things we hadn’t said to each other. It felt like we were standing at the edge of something, ready to fall.

Franco’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You think I don’t take anything seriously, but... I do. I’ve worked my ass off to get here, and I am trying so hard to make it to next year. But you keep talking like you’ve got me all figured out. Like I’m some shallow, cocky guy who just flirts his way through life.”

“Isn’t flirting your way through life exactly what you do, though?” I shot back, my frustration flaring again.

Franco’s eyes darkened. “No. But you wouldn’t know that because you never gave me a chance. You just made up your mind about me from the start.”

“Because all you’ve shown me is that side of you!” I snapped. “You literally flirted with every girl at the club tonight. How was I supposed to think otherwise?”

“Instead of judging me, you could just admit that you're jealous,” Franco fired back, his voice rising.

“Judging you? You’re the one who’s been making up stuff about me from the moment we met!” I shouted, the anger boiling over now. “While you don’t know anything about me!”

“¡Porque no me dejas conocerte!” Franco shouted back in Spanish, his voice raw. Because you won’t let me get to know you!

“¡No hay nada que conocer!” I yelled, my heart pounding. There’s nothing to get to know!

Franco stepped even closer, his eyes blazing. “¡No digas eso! Sé que hay más en ti. Lo he visto, pero siempre estás empujándome lejos.” Don’t say that! I know there’s more to you. I’ve seen it, but you keep pushing me away.

I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions. “¡No quiero que te acerques!” I don’t want you to get close!

“¿Por qué? ¿Porque te asusta?” Franco asked, his voice softer but still intense. Why? Because it scares you?

“¡Porque no confío en ti!” I shot back. Because I don’t trust you!

There was a beat of silence, both of us standing there, breathing heavily. The street was quiet around us, but the energy between us was electric, almost unbearable.

My breath caught in my throat.

“¡Eres tan... frustrante!” I yelled, my voice cracking. You’re so... frustrating!

“¿Sabes qué más eres?” Franco said, his voice lowering, his eyes burning into mine. “Eres tan sexy cuando te enojas.” You know what else you are? You’re so sexy when you’re angry.

The words hit me like a shockwave, and for a moment, I was too stunned to respond. Before I could even think, Franco closed the gap between us and kissed me.

It wasn’t just any kiss—it was fiery, intense, and filled with all the pent-up emotion we’d been holding back for what felt like weeks. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, all the frustration and tension melting away in that single moment.

His lips were soft. I melted into him, my hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, the weight of everything we hadn’t said hanging between us.

I stared at him, my mind racing. “Franco...”

He smiled, his hand still resting on my waist. “Finally.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you like it,” he said with a grin.

I didn’t argue.

We walked the rest of the way home in silence, but this time, the tension between us had shifted. There was no more anger, no more resentment—just something new, something that hadn’t been there before. My hand was still in Franco’s, and I hadn’t even thought about pulling it away.

The soft hum of the Monaco streets accompanied us as we approached Carlos’s apartment. The usual quiet after a night out seemed louder now, like it was filling the space where our words had been. My heart was still racing from the kiss, and every time Franco’s shoulder brushed mine, that warmth spread through me again.

I glanced over at him, catching him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He smiled—a small, almost shy one—and I couldn’t help but smile back. That smug smirk he’d worn all night was gone, replaced with something softer. It was the first time I’d seen him look... real.

As we reached the entrance to the building, Franco opened the door for me, his hand gently resting on the small of my back as I stepped inside. The gesture was subtle, but it sent a wave of warmth through me.

Inside, the familiar scent of Carlos’s apartment hit me—clean, with a hint of cologne that always lingered in the air. The place was quiet, save for the faint sound of the ocean outside. It felt surreal, like everything that had happened tonight had been part of some strange dream.

Lando was, of course, sprawled out on the couch, his feet up, his phone in hand. The second we walked in, he glanced up, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Well, well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look who finally made it home.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at my lips. “Shut it, Norris.”

“Awww look at you, Y/N!” Lando replied, wiggling his eyebrows. “Blushing. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Franco chuckled beside me, his hand still resting lightly on my lower back. “Nice work, Lando,” he called over his shoulder as we walked past Lando toward the hallway.

Lando just winked, not missing a beat. “What can I say? I have a gift.”

As we walked down the hallway toward the guest rooms, I felt the tension ease from my body, replaced by a strange kind of peace. Franco’s presence beside me didn’t feel overwhelming anymore. It felt... comforting.

“Do you want to go back to that rooftop restaurant?” Franco’s voice was soft, a whisper just between us as we stopped in front of my door.

I turned to face him, my heart doing a little flip at the thought. “Are you asking me on a second first date?”

He grinned, but it was different now. Less cocky, more sincere. “Yeah. A real one. No crashes, I promise.”

I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “I’d like that.”

For a moment, neither of us moved, the weight of everything unsaid still lingering in the air. But instead of more words, Franco leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling back and meeting my eyes.

“Buenas noches, hermosa,” he whispered, his voice like a warm caress.

“Buenas noches, Franco,” I replied, my voice equally soft.

[luveline]

bombshell!reader getting caught sleeping over at spencer's before making their established relationship public & the team still thinks spencer is uncomfortable with r's approaches. 🤭

Spencer bought you pyjamas. You're sick with secret pleasure at the fact, staring at yourself in every passing window and reflective surface. They're simple skinny knitted sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and it's not necessarily something you'd buy for yourself, but why would you ever complain? Spencer got you new clothes as a gift with no occasion or motive; you'd marry him now if you thought he'd say yes. 

Too bad he's still sleeping. 

You turn away from his kitchen window back to your cooking, an oiled frying pan sizzling hot on the stove, eggs browning at the edges as Spencer likes. Two twin mugs of hot coffee steam on the counter next to two plates of crispy bacon and toasted english muffins, deconstructed breakfast sandwiches. You're ninety percent sure he likes breakfast sandwiches. 

It's odd knowing enough about Spencer to fancy yourself in love with him, but being in a relationship that's so new that there are a thousand gaps. You know how he likes his eggs but not his bacon. Does he like melted cheese? Does he drink orange juice this early?

You'll have to ask him. If he's brave enough to ask you to stay the night, you can ask him about breakfast. 

It's getting way too hot in the kitchen. The opened window isn't cutting it. You hook your elbow into the hem of your hoodie and pull it over your head before folding them to set neatly aside. You feel cooler in your vest, if a little exposed. Good thing it's just you and Spence—

A knock rattles the door. "Reid, you home?" 

Well, I brought that on myself, you think with a laugh. You take the eggs off of the heat and wipe your oily fingers clean on a dish towel as you meander to the door. It's too early for running. 

"Hello, Derek," you say, opening the door with a put upon casualness. He blinks at you. He's wearing gym clothes, a sleeveless t-shirt and tight sweatpants. You wolf whistle before he can say hello himself. "Looking good. Early run?" 

"You're kidding," he says. 

"Am I ever? You look great! Did you want to come in– woah!" 

Deft-fingered hands pull you out of the doorway and firmly behind it. Spencer steps into your place, closing the door to a slit. "Hi, Morgan." 

"Reid. You're both kidding." 

"I don't know what you mean." Spencer rakes a hand through his sleep mussed hair. You try to ignore how much you enjoyed him moving you around. 

"Reid, I just saw her!" Morgan laughs more happily than incredulously. You can't see him but you can picture his smile and his slightly slouched posture, his arms crossed over his chest. "Since when do you guys bunk up? You're a jerk, you know that? I'm always telling her to stop bothering you, but now I'm thinking you like being bothered." 

"I never asked you to do that," Spencer says weakly. 

You nudge Spencer aside gently, popping your head back into Morgan's view. "My AC broke, my apartment's a hot hell. Reid let me come over." 

"Oh yeah?" Morgan asks, rolling his eyes. "That why he tried to hide you? What's so secret about broken AC?" 

"He's a genius, he's not perfect. I'm sure he was just trying to protect my decency. I'm not dressed for company." You put a more than friendly hand on Spencer's back, the dip of it like a tempting line under his thin sleep shirt. You want more than anything to dig under his shirt and feel along the curve of it. You'd pictured it this morning, eating eggs and drinking coffee under his arm, your fingertips tracing the short wall of stretch marks he has just above his coccyx.  

Spencer rolls with your lie as well as he's able to, which, having been caught off guard, is not very well at all. "Right. She's not wearing a bra." 

You snort. Morgan laughs and almost turns around to walk away. 

"Did you want breakfast?" Spencer asks weakly. He sounds resigned to his fate. Skewed, he uses the hand furthest away from you to reach behind his back and squeeze your hand in a swift apology. 

"I'll pass, man." Morgan pulls his cap down a touch. "Sounds like you're having breakfast fit for two." 

[ceesimz]

Best of Both Worlds

Yes, the title is a Hannah Montana song, it fits perfectly. Also, for the sake of fiction, Leah did in fact play at Wembley, thank you!

Possibly the most long-awaited day of Leah's life; her national team return. It was one thing to play for The Arsenal again, but to represent her country whilst wearing the captain's armband at Wembley was an experience that simply couldn't be matched. And that's why it meant everything and more to her that you were in the stands with her family and her name on your back.

It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing match ever, a 1-1 draw against Sweden, but Leah was back in her rightful place under her rightful role, and that was a win in itself. With each step on the pitch, your heart swelled with pride, knowing the mountain she'd climbed with her injury and how hard it had been mentally with each bump in the road, especially when she had to drop out of the last camp.

But here you were, seated in the same area of the stands her family had been when she had won the Euros, watching on in awe at how seamlessly she slipped back into the team. You had missed that fateful day back in 2022, having only met Leah five months after it at a New Year's Eve party, but with the affection Leah described that day with, you may as well have lived it for yourself. Now, having experienced your first game at Wembley since you hadn't gone to that game last year, you were beaming as you watched your girl command her national team around again.

Sure, you'd been to many a game of her's before, but there was something different about this one. There were obvious reasons of course, her injury and whatnot, but seeing her lead her team out to a stadium filled with the most people you'd ever seen her play in front of, a feeling settled in your chest that was unlike anything before. And when she was back in your arms at the end of the game, you would show her exactly how much you treasured her.

So, as she made her way around the stadium post-game, taking the time to applaud all the fans that had come along to watch and signing things for some, there was a smile of admiration on your face that her cousin beside you noticed. You blushed heavily at the teasing nudge she gave you with a smirk on her face.

"I suggest you wipe that cheesy, love-sick smile off your face before she comes over and bullies you for it." The woman next to you said, the pair of you laughing as you rolled your eyes, both all too familiar with her antics.

But the absence of said smile only lasted for about a minute, because then Leah was making her way over to the area of stands where you and her family was, and she had a down-turned smile on her face, the one she always did whilst trying to suppress her actual one. You were sat on the second row behind Leah's immediate family, so you stood back and waited for her to greet them all, also doing so as to not attract much fan attention. Leah made that hard though, because when her Mum pulled her into a bear hug, she indulged herself fully in it for about five seconds before her eyes flitted up to you and the corners of her mouth finally quirked up.

She jokingly pushed her Mum to the side so that she could reach out for you, and leaned up to hug you tightly. However, you pulled away after a few moments, and she made her disapproval very clear.

"What you doing that for?" She quizzed grumpily, looking utterly unimpressed up at you as some of her family members chuckled at her.

"The fans, Leah. We're at Wembley, think of all the videos." You whispered close to her ear, not quite intelligible for the others to hear.

"Who gives a toss, babe, I've hugged all my family here and you're no different." She responded, and she pulled you back in before you could complain. You wouldn't have complained anyway, because really who were you to deny your girlfriend's hug, your favourite in the world.

"Don't throw a strop later if there's about a million different angles of this." You teased, pinching her side where one of your hands rested around her.

"Doesn't matter, it's still you I get to go home with." She murmured before quickly pecking the spot under your ear and pulling back with one last squeeze. When she leaned back, she saw the light blush to your cheeks and smirked. "A year later and I've still got it."

You shoved her away lightly so that she could chat with the rest of her family before going off to do her post-match routine. Seeing her with her family, who she was so tight-knit with, was always a joy to see and you'd never get tired of seeing it. And as she jogged away back to the tunnel, her Mum turned to you and embraced you too.

"Thanks for coming, darling, it means a lot to her and to us too." She told you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. Praise and gratitude from her never got old either.

"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world." You said back to her, to which she smiled and kissed your cheek.

You and the rest of the group made your way around to the family area inside the stadium to wait for her, making light conversation with them all to pass the time whilst Leah carried out media duties. It was fun and easy spending time with her family, because as a result of your girlfriend's relationship with them, you had grown almost as close with them too. Ever present at family dinners, birthdays, and events like christenings and weddings etc, now it was second nature for you to follow Leah to them. Within only a few months of being with Leah, every invite had your name on it too.

In the middle of your conversation with her cousins, talking excitedly about plans for the summer vacation later that year, you were interrupted as Leah finally appeared in her tracksuit with short wet blonde hair, a soft smile on her face. She spent a bit of time talking some more with her family, before bidding them farewell and wandering over to you.

"Home time?" You wondered, reaching a hand out to brush some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

You had, rather bravely, drove to the stadium today after Leah somehow secured you a reserved parking space, with the plan of driving yourself and Leah home your flat for the night before she travelled back up north to St. George's Park with the team tomorrow.

"God, yes." She sighed, and you smiled up at her.

"Let's go then." You took the hand she offered after pulling up her hood and let her lead the way out of the stadium.

Arriving at your car, with a few curious stares from fans to see if the hooded figure beside you was who they thought it was, you helped her lift her things into the boot of your car before the pair of you clambered in.

For the time it took to drive home, you caught up with her as it had been a few days since you had seen each other whilst she had been at camp. You, ever the safe driver, weren't one to hold your girlfriend's hands whilst on the road, always with two hands on the wheel at all times. Leah teased you of course, her and her English humour never falling to banter you everytime she could, but nevertheless when she was feeling a little clingy her hand would rest on your thigh as you drove, or it would massage and stroke the back of your neck as her arm leaned on your seat's headrest.

Today was a case of her resting a hand mindlessly on your thigh, something you would smile at constantly and glance down at the sight every chance you could get. She didn't notice though, busy talking and too tired to realise. Adjusting back to playing 90 minutes was something she was still in the middle of, not that she couldn't handle them because she obviously can, it's just the tiredness afterwards was something she hadn't experienced in a while of playing professionally.

That meant you weren't exactly surprised when she flopped down immediately on your sofa when you got home, not even bothering to drop her bags off in your room.

"Want some food, love?" You offered, pushing her bags to the side of the hallway so that they weren't a tripping hazard before leaning against the doorway of your lounge.

"You don't have to cook, we can just order a Nando's or something." Leah yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I thought ahead." You smiled at her, giggling at the tired and confused expression she silently responds with. "I meal-planned for you. I can heat up a plate of that Carribbean chicken and rice and veg if you want."

She gazed at you for a few moments before her head dropped back against the pillows with a groan.

"If I had a ring right now, I'd ask to marry you."

With a laugh, you took that as a yes and headed to the kitchen to do exactly as you said. As you were gone, the blonde put Netflix on the TV and chose the sitcom you had been watching together before pausing the episode to wait for you. She sat up with a groan and slumped back heavily, going onto her phone to reply to some friends and family.

Not so long later, you walked back in with Leah's food, handing it to her before sitting down beside her. Plate and fork in hand, she twisted her body to lean her back against your shoulder and happily tucked into her meal as you pressed play on the TV.

"Thanks for this, babe, I'm really grateful." She muttered as she ate, to which you smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's no problem, Le. I made a plate for myself too but I had a hot dog at half-time so I'm not hungry." You revealed, giggling as Leah chuckled.

"I know it's just a plate of food but... I don't know, means a lot to me that you thought about this." With a light blush, you shrugged nonchalantly and kissed the side of her head.

"I would say I know you'd do the same for me, but everybody knows you can't cook." You jested, grinning when she grumbled under her breath.

"I was only being nice, but alright." She huffed, but you only held her tighter against you.

"I'm kidding. I just love you, s'all. Wanna take care of you, especially after the last year and especially because I know you're a bit of a bottomless pit after a game." You say, and she hums in agreement. "If I'd have known my chicken was so good, it inspired thoughts of marriage, I'd have made it more often."

"I could never say no to that."

You both fell silent at that, more than content to enjoy each other's company with the show on in the background. Spending time with you after a game, just relaxing together, was fastly becoming Leah's favourite tradition. Going to dinners with friends or partying were great, but not much could beat this. Great food with even better company, in the arms of her girlfriend, Leah was finally at peace with the silence she had to greet after a game that was anything but.

That was something not many people would guess was a struggle in women's football. Going from playing in tiny stadiums to bigger venues but hardly any fans, to then playing in sold-out game after sold-out game for both club and country, that was her dream. What she wasn't expecting was the mental challenge that came with it. Spending well over 90 minutes in a booming stadium with fans that never ceased their chants was astounding to her, but the silence that met her when she would go home to a quiet and empty apartment was difficult.

She had worked on dealing with it better since the Euros where it had really picked up, but there was one thing that made it so much easier every time without fail. And that was you.

"You know I do plan to marry you, right?" Leah piped up out of nowhere sometime later, her plate long discarded to the coffee table as your positions on the couch remained the same. At her out-of-the-blue question that took your breath away a little, you cleared your throat and nodded though she couldn't see you.

"Yeah."

"Because I do want to marry you one day. I've known that from early on, I actually know the exact moment I thought that."

"Do tell, my love." You smiled, never one to pass up on a chance to hear just how and when Leah had fallen for you.

"The second time we saw each other after the New Year's party, when you started teasing me for not kissing you again after that night."

Much to Alex's dismay, the night of that party yourself and Leah had spent pretty much all of it talking about everything and nothing, compelled by a desire to get to know each other. That was until the blonde's intake of Dutch courage lived up to its name as she kissed you a little more than what could be described as friendly once the clock struck midnight. And when the night ended, no matter how much you didn't want to leave, you both shared a taxi to your respective apartments and exchanged details. It wasn't long before you saw her again though, in fact you saw her twice in the two weeks that followed, but the defender had been a little too embarrassed at her eager act a few weeks prior to kiss you again. But when you teased her one too many times about it, on the third 'date', she huffed before firmly yet delicately gripping your face and finally kissing you again.

"I spoke to Wally after our second date and she called me crazy for knowing I'd marry you when I didn't even have the balls to kiss you again." You laughed loudly at that, a notion Leah soon joined in with as she knew her past-self had acted in a ridiculous and shy way. "But that's the truth, babe. I knew I had to have you, and what better way to show that than snogging the life out of you on a random bench in London."

"Ew, Leah! Why describe it like that? I thought it was such a sweet moment, but you've just described it like we were two horny teenagers." She grimaced at the point you made, regretting it already.

"My bad. It was sweet. If not a bit... desperate." She snickered, grinning when you swatted her shoulder. "So, would you marry me then?"

"Wow. If this conversation couldn't get any less romantic, I think you've just put the nail in the coffin." Leah scoffed and sat up, fixing you with a disapproving look.

"That wasn't my actual proposal, you knob. I just wanna know if you'd say yes when I did eventually ask. Properly, that is." The defender asked with a shy smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at her face, doing so more when she frowned in confusion.

"Yes, I would accept your proposal. As long as it's with a nice ring and a better speech." You answered to put her out of her misery. She lets out a relieved sigh but smiling again.

"Noted."

With that, she stood up, now your turn to be confused. Squealing as she lifted you up bridal style, you laughed when she lay you down on your back length-ways across the sofa. Then, she kneeled against the cushions under your knees and carefully laid on top of you, her head resting against your stomach. Her hands came up to slide under your back and she sighed contently.

"Comfy?" You asked with a smile, your own hands settling on the back of her head.

"So comfy." She hummed, eyes closed as she faced away from the TV.

"If you're gonna fall asleep, Le, we may as well go to bed."

"No." She grunted. "I won't fall asleep. I just want to lay here for a bit."

"Alright." You conceded, your attention fully lost from the TV and instead on the girl draped over you.

You admired the slight view of her face available to you, your hands combing delicately through her almost dried hair as the only sounds shared between you were the calm and quiet breaths you both let out. A few minutes passed by and you thought she had gone to sleep, but she proved you wrong.

"This is my dream, you know."

"What is?" You asked her, moving one of your hands to rest on the side of your face and stroking her skin there with your thumb.

"Going home from a game to someone I love. Who I can fully switch off with." The small explanation had you beaming, beyond happy to hear how special you were to her.

"Well, I'm glad I can help, my love." You replied, a sheepishly proud smile on your face.

"I used to find it hard, y'know... our football blew up in popularity during the Euros, and I struggled with it more than I expected." You hummed curiously, not wanting to disrupt her train of thought but letting her know you wanted her to continue. "Going from being surrounded by up to ninety thousand people, singing and chanting and cheering non-stop, to just... nothing when I got home. Just a cold, empty, silent apartment. The contrast of it troubled me a lot. I worked through it with a psychologist and coped with it better, but it was never perfect."

She paused, adjusting her position so that her hands came to rest under her chin as she looked up at you, that same down-turned smile from earlier returning. Your hands fell to clasp behind her neck, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Then you came around, and now that anxiety doesn't even phase me anymore."

Now, if that wasn't the most heart-warming thing your girlfriend had said so far, you weren't sure what was.

"That makes me so happy, Leah." You whispered, cupping her cheeks with your hands and smiling softly at her.

"One of my favourite things about our relationship is how easy it is for me to switch from Leah Williamson the footballer, to just Leah when I'm around you. Makes coming home after a game much easier."

Shaking your head, you took her hands and urged her to move further up your body so that her head rested against your chest. Wrapping your arms around her, you squeezed her tightly, desperate to convey your love to her in a way words couldn't explain.

"I'll happily welcome 'Just Leah' home all the time."

"Now you're ruining the moment."

[lvmoure]

Baby Fever CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: In which they are both ready to step into the next label.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

You always wanted to be a mother. Sure, that feeling had been quietly humming in the background of your life, an almost imperceptible ache that grew steadily, but with each passing day, it had become stronger. And then came Carlos, so full of life, his laughter, his spirit—it was easy to imagine what a child of his would be like. It was easy to picture a little version of him running around, their laughter echoing like his, their eyes bright and curious, filled with the same intensity. But that conversation hadn’t come up yet, at least not seriously. So when you two were asked to babysit the nieces and nephews for a day, it felt like fate had a way of pushing things along.

The house was a flurry of tiny, rapid footsteps and loud giggles, toys scattered around like the remnants of a colorful hurricane. You and Carlos sat in the living room, surrounded by your nieces and nephews—three kids, all under the age of six, with boundless energy that made your head spin just watching. You’d spent most of the morning playing referee, distributing snacks, and occasionally rescuing someone from a tiny, toddler-sized disaster.

Carlos leaned back on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the cushions, watching you as you coaxed little Ana out of her hiding spot behind the couch with promises of her favorite juice. He shot you that lopsided grin, the one that told you he was just as entertained watching you in action as he was by the kids themselves.

“You’re a natural, you know that?” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear over the din of the children. His eyes had softened, a flicker of something warm and tender lingering there as he watched you.

You gave him a little smirk, tilting your head as you shrugged. “I think they’re just easily bribed with juice.”

Carlos chuckled, but his gaze lingered, like he was seeing something deeper. The kids were a whirlwind, tugging at his hands, demanding his attention just as much as yours. Ana climbed into his lap at one point, babbling about a story she half-invented, and he listened with exaggerated nods and expressions that had her giggling and clapping her hands in delight. You watched, heart swelling a bit as he played along, his big hands carefully adjusting her tiny, mismatched socks as she tried to describe an adventure involving a princess and a dragon.

Carlos had always been good with kids. He had a playful, patient streak that you couldn’t help but admire. He could make them laugh with the silliest faces, and he listened to their stories like they were the most important tales he’d ever heard. He was gentle with them in a way that made your heart ache a little bit more, that made you picture what it would be like if he were playing like this with a child that was truly yours.

As the afternoon wore on, it became clear that the kids were getting antsy. When Mateo, your five-year-old nephew, started whining about going to the park, you exchanged a look with Carlos.

“How about it?” Carlos asked, nudging you. “Think you can handle a few hours outdoors?”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, nodding. “Let’s go, little ones. Grab your shoes!”

The sun was warm but gentle as you made your way to the park, your nephew Mateo holding onto your hand, chattering about his bike with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. He was getting better at riding, but he still needed someone nearby, just in case. Carlos was by your side, his arm slung around your shoulders as you walked together, the two of you flanking Mateo like a protective shield.

Once at the park, you helped Mateo onto his little bike, adjusting his helmet and giving him an encouraging smile. “You ready to show us some cool tricks, little man?”

He beamed, a shy little nod as he gripped the handlebars and pedaled with a mix of concentration and excitement. You watched him with a tender expression, your hands hovering near him as he rode in small, careful loops.

Carlos leaned against a tree nearby, arms crossed, watching the two of you with an amused grin. “You’re babying him,” he teased softly, laughter in his voice.

You glanced back at him, giving him a mock glare. “He’s five, Carlos. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t fall on his face.”

He shrugged, but he kept watching, that warm, thoughtful look never leaving his eyes. You couldn’t help yourself; you crouched down, offering Mateo a quick high-five when he completed another successful lap around you. “You’re getting really good at this, you know? Soon, you’ll be riding like a pro.”

Carlos chuckled softly behind you, and you shot him a sidelong glance, hoping maybe he’d pick up on the way you looked at Mateo, the way you held his little hands and clapped for every small victory. But Carlos, ever the racer, seemed more focused on encouraging Mateo’s speed than anything else.

---

The park outing had gone well, and as the sun started to dip, the three of you made your way back. You were a little tired, but a sense of peace had settled over you, a kind of warmth that lingered even after you’d waved goodbye to Mateo and returned him to his parents.

But then Carlos had to go and be his usual self—playfully dense, occasionally oblivious in the most endearing way. Back at the house, he’d start poking fun, saying, “You’re really good at this, you know. Maybe I should be the one that needs babying around here.”

You just rolled your eyes, a little annoyed but amused. “Very funny, Carlos. Maybe I’m just practicing for the real thing, ever thought of that?”

“Oh, you mean more babysitting gigs?” He feigned innocence, that sly grin telling you he knew exactly what you meant. But he’d drawn it out, pretending not to catch your hints. It was almost maddening, the way he could pretend to be oblivious.

At one point, he’d even leaned close, murmuring into your ear, “I think you’d be an amazing mother.”

Your heart had skipped a beat, but he’d just grinned, kissing the top of your head as if he hadn’t just thrown you off balance with those words.

---

The next day, you both found yourselves wandering the mall. It was supposed to be a quick trip for groceries, but as you passed a baby shop—full of tiny clothes, soft blankets, and adorable little shoes—you couldn’t help but stop, your gaze lingering on a display of baby onesies.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, following your line of sight. “Something catch your eye?” he asked, his voice tinged with that playful edge, and you turned to him with a pointed look, letting your gaze drop deliberately to the baby clothes.

“Oh, I don’t know… Just thinking how cute it would be to have a little one of our own wearing something like this.” You said it casually, trying to keep the edge of hopefulness out of your voice.

But Carlos, ever the tease, just shrugged, giving you an exaggerated, thoughtful nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Our nieces and nephews would look adorable in that.”

You had to resist the urge to smack his arm, biting back an exasperated laugh as he gave you a wink, thoroughly enjoying his role as the clueless one.

Later that evening, after you’d both finally had enough of dancing around the topic, you found yourselves back at home, sitting together on the couch, a comfortable silence filling the space between you. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to finally lay it all out, not a hint, not a joke—just honesty.

“Carlos,” you began softly, looking down at your hands, “I… I really do want a child. With you. And I’ve been dropping hints, but I think maybe it’s time I just… say it.”

Carlos looked at you for a long moment, his expression softening, a hint of surprise mixed with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name. He reached out, taking your hands in his, his fingers warm and steady around yours.

“You should’ve just said so,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion as he gave you a gentle smile. “I want that too. I’ve wanted it for a while. I just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

You felt the tears prick at your eyes, a mix of relief and joy flooding your chest as you squeezed his hands. “I am ready. I’ve been ready for so long.”

Carlos pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice a quiet promise in your ear. “Then let’s make it happen. Our little family.”

[a-major-love]

Night Fever

Pairing - Michael Jackson x Fem!Reader

Summary - Of all people you could have met that fateful night, it had to be him.

Word Count - 1k+

Warnings - MDNI, fem pronouns, mentions of smoking & alcohol, no use of y/n

A/N - I always imagined dancing with Michael was incredibly fun but also probably intimidating. Enjoy!

1977

Spotlights pierced through the haze of smoke filtering the air, beaming down on the partygoers. Sweat rolled off their skin, mingling with the overpowering stench of perfume and cigarettes. The men and women’s eyes twinkled at you, sparkling from pressed glitter. Their bright, painted lips mouthed along to the stream of ABBA lyrics filling the crowded space. The music pouring from the speakers vibrated under your feet. Studio 54 was lively, and terrifying all at once. 

“Friday nights are always the busiest,” your friend – Alicia –  mentioned from beside you. Her stark black hair was pulled into a tight bun, revealing her teal colored eyeshadow. The sequined dress she wore hung off her bronzed shoulders, flecks of glitter dotted her skin. 

You glanced down at the denim jumpsuit you wore, with a thick belt secured around the waist. Somehow, despite the pumps digging into the soles of your feet, you felt mildly underdressed. You scanned the crowd, biting your lip as your eyes swept over the other dancers. 

“Let’s go, birthday girl,” Alicia said, nudging you towards the center of the room. 

You giggled. “I’m just trying to appreciate the atmosphere.” 

“Well, you can go appreciate it out on the dancefloor.” 

She grasped onto your forearm, pushing through the cluster of hot bodies that brushed against you two. You could feel the men’s gazes pass over you, their heavy eyes glancing over your form before looking away. Glasses with golden liquid, and pierced olives swung around you as the people got lost in the music. 

You finally approached the middle of the dance floor, where a bright, glowing disco ball hung above your heads. Alicia broke out into a grin, her pearly white teeth pointed to the ceiling. Her dangled hearings whipped around her face as she began swaying to the music.  

It was initially her idea, at first, to celebrate your birthday at Studio 54. All you knew about the nightclub was that the entrance fee was too expensive, and the line never seemed to ease up. As much as you adored Alicia, you couldn’t find a good reason to stand outside all night – in New York during the spring – hoping to make it inside before the place closed. If there’s one thing you understood about spring in New York, it was how cold the nights could be. 

So, how in the hell she pulled this off, you were sure she would take to her grave. 

You laughed, watching her bounce around, throwing her head back. Acting as if a plethora of eyes weren’t on her. You swayed your hips, letting your eyes close as the sweet sounding harmonies of the Bee Gees washed over you. It felt as if everybody on the dance floor was in sync, breathing and moving in time with each other. 

Sharing one heart, one pulse to the music. 

Your body moved and rocked, becoming bewitched by the entrancing tune. 

“Excuse me-

You suddenly bumped into someone, startling both you and the stranger. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, whipping around to face them. A pair of oak, brown eyes crinkled at you as the strange man chuckled to himself. 

“It’s alright,” he assured, adjusting his blazer. “You’re not a bad dancer, you know.” 

You playfully grinned at him, “Have you been watching me dance?”

“I – uh didn’t mean it like that,” he stammered.

You scanned the man, taking in his wide doe eyes and large afro currently dusted with glossy confetti. A gold pendant rested between the dip of his chest, a sliver of deep brown skin peaking through the few undone buttons.

Somewhere, in the back corners of your mind, familiarity tugged at your brain. 

“Have we met before?” you inquired, furrowing your brows. 

“No, we haven’t,” he answered, perhaps a little too quickly. 

You opened your mouth to reply, when he stuck his hand out. 

“Is it alright if we danced together?” he asked.

Heat creeped up your face, as you took his inviting hand – his skin was silky smooth and warm in your grasp. He softly smiled at you, as he tugged your form closer to him. Swiftly, he twirled you around, giggling at your reaction as you nearly stumbled from the sudden movement. You caught yourself in time, taking both his hands as you grooved to the deep bass coming from the speakers. 

His eyes remained trained on you, as if analyzing every motion and gesture you made. The music enveloped you two, as the dance floor fell away, along with the people surrounding it. The club was nothing but a blur of color, as the hot white lights radiated down on you two. The music pulsed through your skin, reverberating against your ribcage. The sweet, lingering scent of nicotine floated through the air. It was as if the dancefloor came alive from under your feet suddenly, a pulsating heartbeat belonging to the untamable beast known as music. His hands never left yours, as he pulled you into his side, before going into a spin. 

You watched, in fascination. “You’re not a bad dancer yourself.”

He bashfully smiled. “Well, I’ve been dancing for most of my life.”

“Do you do it for a career, or something?” “...You could say that.”

He twirled you again, interrupting whatever train of thought you were processing. 

The night went on endlessly it seemed, as if time had temporarily stopped. Yet, the crowd of Studio 54 never broke off. A stream of guests revolved in and out of the space, some dressed in dripping jewels that outshined the hanging disco ball or extravagant outfits that felt expensive to even look at. It felt as if you were in a lion's mouth, a wet, breathing cage waiting to clamp down on you. 

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around your frame.

“Let’s get going, my feet are killing me,” Alicia groaned, already tugging you away. 

“Wait!” The man called out, feeling your hand loosen in his grip. Alicia squinted at him, trying to make out his features through the alcohol induced brain fog. 

“You look a little familiar...” she muttered.

“I’ll meet you outside,” you explained, nudging your friend back. Alicia glanced over at you, glossy lips pouting at your urgency. She finally caved, rolling her eyes as she knowingly nodded and began to maneuver her way through the crowd. 

You turned to face him. “I had a really great time, uh-

“Michael,” he introduced, squeezing your hand. 

Had he been holding it the entire time?

“Well, it was really fun dancing with you, Michael.”

His eyes flickered between yours, as if weighing something in his mind. Michael eventually sighed, reluctantly loosening his grip and letting your hand fall to your side. 

“I hope we get to do it again, sometime,” he said. With wistful smile growing on his lips. 

You returned the smile, clenching your hand from the sudden loss of warmth. Without another word, you turned and made your way to the exit. 

The bumping music followed you out the double doors and onto the bustling street of New York City’s nightlife. A breeze brushed against your bare arms, biting at your skin. Alicia was leaning against a car, impatiently tapping her foot. Her eyes finally landed on you, wearing a strange expression you couldn’t quite place. 

“Girl, I have several questions,” she started, opening the car door for you. 

You snorted. “Ask me when it’s not past midnight.” 

She sidled into the passenger seat, as you started up the engine. The bright, white lights of Studio 54 reflected off the hood of your car. 

You could still feel his presence, even during the drive home. 

[14muffinz]

destiny sets itself right

Timelines have key events, events that tend to carry over between realities even if the exact details are lost. The connection of it always lingers, tying the world's puppets to their roles and letting the rotating cast of background characters fill as needed.

Danyal, or Daniel, or whatever they were called in whatever world, was always destined to be or know a halfa. His fate has always been and will always be intertwined with the infinite realms, and while the knowledge of his connection would be a heavy burden never to be placed upon the boy's shoulders, it remained true nonetheless.

Destiny realises that this version of Danyal has no connection to the Realms, no way of accessing it and no way of dying on the other side. It nudges things along to combat this, until the day comes that a 9-year-old's body is dumped into the Lazarus waters and is not seen coming out.

Not being seen does not mean much for a ghost or halfa. Overcome by the madness that tends to overtake you when dunked into a pool of tainted ectoplasm with only the watching eyes of some silent and minor dieties keeping him stable, Danyal hadn't been aware of where he'd been heading until he was lost inside a forest, across the world from his ancestral home.

When Jazz Fenton comes across a boy on a camping trip, she doesn't know he's a halfa. When Maddie and Jack Fenton adopt the boy, they do not know he's a halfa. When Sam Manson and Tucker Foley befriend the boy, they do not know he's a halfa.

Once the Fenton Portal starts working, no missplaced on-button to be found, this changes many things.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Cinema

G/N. Soft and fluffy feat Big Deal a lil.

 "You on a date, boss?"

Jake says yes without missing a beat, flashing you a grin and snaking his arm around your waist.

He sees the smirk on Jason's face, the light nudge Lineman gives Brad, and the pride and approval on Jerry's face.

The grin soon melts away though, when Brad follows up with "You going to see Rocky XX too?" and Jake only just manages to hide his grimace.

The answer to that is also yes. But he would prefer to not have a date crashed by the rest of the crew.

Heavens above, you're patient enough with Big Deal and so sweet to everyone. Gotten to know the street and the occupants like the back of your hand, spending more evenings and weekends there than not. 

However. Even with how much Jake lives and breathes Big Deal, he misses some one on one time with you.

Away from everyone, he thinks as he takes in the sight of his boys in front of him. He can't exactly tell them to go away though, can he? A rare weekend off work where they get to just be.

He succumbs to his fate. 

Imagines everyone huddled on the one row together. Seated next to each other. Cosy. A family affair instead of a romantic date. Probably won't be able to sneak you some kisses here and there-

"We're not seeing Rocky!" comes the unmistakable sound of Lua's voice. "We're going to watch The Boy and The Pigeon! Enjoy your film!"

She disappears as quickly as she arrives. A whirlwind of hair and a force of nature. Giving you both a small wave, mind laser focused on reading the goddamn room and shoving the boys towards a different screen.

"B-but we already got the tickets!"

"I wanted to see Rocky XX!"

"Why does Jake think seeing Rocky is romantic anyway?!"

Why?

To be honest, the Rocky franchise died off somewhere along V. Who knows how the hell these films are still being greenlit. Nevertheless, the newest one is a low stakes film where Jake doesn't care what happens apart from you cuddling up to him and some kisses if he's lucky.

It's calculated and planned and Jake mentally pats himself on the back for how things have turned out.

Except-

What he didn't expect was the score to be good, the script to be great, the choreography to be amazing, and the acting to be even better. Neither of you could take your eyes off the screen. You laughed and cried and gasped together. 

Thoughts of cuddling and kissing and even making out completely out the window as you're both on the edge of your seat for the entire two hours.

It was fantastic. Perhaps the best movie he has ever seen (and he could practice some of those moves too).

You're both still talking about it as he walks you home-

"When he came back as a zombie to fight that vampire?"

"And the lizard joins the fight to win the title?" Jake chuckles, at your enthusiasm more than anything else, "Yeah. I liked that."

But as your apartment appears on the horizon, he can't help but think that maybe this was a bit of a waste. That the day is over and as good as the film was, maybe he should have arranged something else, after all it’s been a while since both your schedules have aligned.  A date where you can actually talk and be in each other's company. Instead of being captivated by the screen, your attention could have been held by him.

Jake tries to shake off the doubts and recapture the lighter mood from seconds ago.

He's not entirely successful.

You realise something is amiss.

You peer over at your boyfriend. His sudden subduedness. The small line forming between his eyebrows that you hate so much, because it means he's unhappy about something. You pause mid step and he stops alongside you.

"Don’t overthink it. I had fun," you tell him. You always have fun with him. "Thank you."

Jake's smile returns when he sees the expectant look in your eyes. The way you stretch up towards him. press yourself into his space, and he leans down; meeting you halfway.

Your lips lightly press to his, eyes closing, eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks and his own falling shut. Strong arms encircle you, pulling you ever closer, deepening the contact.

There'll be a next time, your kiss reassures him.

You tastes like popcorn. Sugar and butter and salt. Sweet and savoury and perfect.

[idlerin]

nonsense — 36. need you like oxygen

you still thought of kenma’s message 3 hours later.

it was a good reminder to have, everything that’s happening isn’t something controlled by a superior being pulling at the strings of fate. it was at your pace, you knew oikawa would do it at your pace, but recently, you’ve started to wonder what pace did you want it to go? because with oikawa, it was as if settling back into your previous dynamic was just… comfortable. it wasn’t easy and yet it wasn’t difficult. perhaps, it was his general presence that was familiar and secure, even so, it also felt as if you were experiencing new things with the same person who used to hold your heart.

it was still his to hold onto.

all those months and years of wallowing in fury, being hung up on something that had long since passed. something that no one could blame you for as it left a huge gash in your mind and heart. oikawa wasn’t the primary person to blame for all of the pain you experienced in the past but he was one of the catalysts, the amount of love you gave him in the past was the same love that made you blind with hate.

you’re grateful that despite everything, you received a great support system from your friends. you could say that they were a major part of why you persevered, worked hard, and keep on working hard in the present.

did you ever plan to mend your relationship with your parents? you want to, but not now. there were things you were ready for and things you were not. you think it’s completely fine to focus on things that make you happy until you’re ready to handle more strenuous things of the heart. you were just beginning to fix your relationship with oikawa, and you think that you’d like to completely mend things with him so you could face your parents together. you admit it’s unfair for you to put this expectation on him, but all you wanted was to be completely sure that he was there for you.

you wanted to be constantly assured that he was all in, not just dipping his hands again in waters he didn’t know how to handle. it was the same for you, you wanted to be a better partner, because to be honest, you still weren’t fully convinced that you deserved him. 

again, that train of thought was unfair to both you and oikawa, because you were both trying to be better. it’s not like you could stop these insecurities, you’re also trying your best to repress the negative train of thoughts but you just couldn’t help it. it’s not something to blame anyone on but yourself.

just earlier, when you were surprised to find that oikawa visited you near your university just because he wanted to see you again (where you soon found out he was conspiring with your friends who told on your possible location)— ignoring the fact that you spend practically everyday with him now, unless he had a full packed schedule, it was never enough for him, so to say, he could never get enough of you— made you feel treasured and important. you only hope you could display the same amount of affection towards him in a way that he would notice that his efforts are being reciprocated.

it was a bit difficult to confront him and be open whenever it came to work. there would always be certain boundaries set in place, and one of those would be pretending you didn’t know each other, you didn’t spend countless hours rememorizing his facial features, you didn’t spend years aching for and because of him. you both had to be professional, and you both knew what the nature of his job entailed from the very beginning.

you would always have to be careful because you didn’t know what the consequences would be.

you let out a deep breath.

you were thinking too much again, it contrasted the good mood you were in this morning. you were beginning to resonate with one of those overused corny inspirational quotes that goes along the lines of “your mind is your biggest enemy” at this moment, that cringey quote is completely relatable.

you snapped out of your daze thanks to akane nudging your shoulder. you glanced at her with blinking eyes because of being startled, “sorry, did i space out?”

“no worries, we aren’t even doing anything right now. something on your mind?” akane asked, “is it about a certain good-looking famous heartthrob you’re dating?” she wiggled her brows to tease.

you let out a chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, “whenever i space out, it isn’t always about him you know?” you hit her softly on the shoulder.

“so you’re practically saying it’s usually about him—wait,” akane made an exaggerated shocked expression, “you didn’t deny that you were dating!” she grasped your shoulders, “oh my god tell me all the details!”

“what do you mean?” you scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes at her.

“hey whenever i used to say “dating” and you-know-who in one sentence you would always like refuse and stuff and deny it then you would deny it even more but this time you didn’t! so that means something,” akane proudly concluded.

“there’s nothing to tell,” you stubbornly say, shrugging and smirking when akane dramatically whines.

“come on, [name],” akane pleads, you know she’s been wanting to know ‘all the juicy details’ for days now.

“nope! now enough of that, where is everybody?” you just realized that you and akane were the only ones in the studio, you checked your watch and it was break time, “riseki too, did he go out to eat without us?”

akane grumbled before fixing herself up, “they all went to watch the live interview of oikawa-san in studio 2, did you not know? i came to pick you up here for that reason cause i thought you might want to watch too. although you probably see his face all the time even during non-working days but i thought it was weird you weren’t there! it’s a big deal you know cause it’s the first time this famous magazine is going to a celeb for the interview, the actors and actresses they invite usually have to come by their studio.”

oikawa mentioned that particular interview earlier in the car, he said he wanted you to watch if you were free (because he didn’t know the exact time they would drop by, you interjected then, asking “how would i know when to watch, then?” he merely answered, “i think you would notice,” he grinned at you), he said it so nonchalantly with the same amount of arrogance as usual that you didn’t think of it as such a big deal. leave it to him to act as if big things weren’t of much importance, of course you wanted to watch.

you then held onto akane’s wrist with a sudden burst of impatience, “come on let’s watch, i’ve probably missed a lot already,” you clutched her hand.

akane made a skeptical—obviously would get you some profuse teasing later on— face, “well someone’s eager.”

“yeah yeah i know, tease me about it later,” you gave up on acting cool when it came to things about oikawa and pulled on her hand to get going.

a crowd.

a crowd is what greeted you the moment you entered studio 2, it looked like everybody decided to spend their break watching oikawa’s interview. that was how enamored with him they were. you hear the whispers of “oikawa-san is so nice” and “he’s so understanding and approachable” so you knew he was definitely a staff favorite. you could even say he was the actor everyone liked the most, if the incessant fangirling and fanboying every working day wasn’t already an evident tell. among the heads of hairs, you could see a glimpse of the magazine crew (because they were unfamiliar faces) maneuvering the equipment like the lighting and fan for the interviewer and oikawa. you could only see the side of his head properly from where you were standing, but you could hear his voice.

“—still overwhelming, years into acting. i still feel like i need more experience, you know? i’m very grateful for the opportunities given to me. i could say that fate’s ridicule ways is a project that i’ve never done before so everything’s really cool,” the smooth baritone of his voice gave a funny feeling in your stomach, no matter how many times you’ve heard it before.

“ooh! i see riseki over there, c’mon [name], he’s standing closer,” akane whispers to you and is now dragging you towards riseki who was indeed nearer the set up (not without a bunch of “excuse me’s” and “oops, sorry’s”). riseki spotted the two of you and ushered you over quickly with him, he even sent you a sly wink and eyes pointedly looking at oikawa. you resist a chuckle and settle for lightly hitting his arm which he smiles-laughs at.

“hmm something you haven't done before? so are the rumors true? your character isn’t going to be one of the ‘good guys’?” the interviewer’s brows were raised, very interested in what he seemed to have discovered.

oikawa’s laughter rang through the studio, “clever, it’s better to wait till it airs,” he smirks. in the middle of his laughter and the interviewer pretending to be dismayed, your eyes met. you notice the slight tense he had on his shoulders softened, and he sends you a secret smile. he was more at ease now that he saw you in the crowd, it gave you a rush, a reminder of how much you really affected him.

“you got me with that one,” the interviewer pretended to think, “how about your rumored romance with alisa haiba’s character? with the kind of teasers coming out, with you and haiba’s pairing putting into work, both of your influences are skyrocketing, what do you have to say about that?” the interviewer sat in a curious position.

“uhm…” oikawa spent a good minute thinking, “i don’t really have anything to say, sorry,” he laughs again, “it’s insane how much people like seeing us together, alisa and i are good friends, i only wish well for both her and i’s careers.”

the interviewer nodded, “alright onto the next—oh just the right question. which actor or actress in fate’s ridicule ways do you like working with the most?” the look on their face insinuated that they already had an expected answer, they were only waiting for oikawa to say it.

the interviewer wanted tooru to mention alisa’s name.

that would surely make thousands of fans go insane. you gulped, you’ve seen fans on the internet ship them, to the point of even making compilations of the limited clips tooru and alisa had together, giving meaning to actions neither actors had thought twice of. they were currently one of the internet’s most talked about on-screen couples despite the show not having been aired yet. you tried to not let it bother you that much since it was inevitable due to the nature of their characters and tooru and alisa’s chemistry even you couldn’t deny.

after all, it was all just work and at the end of the day you were the one presence oikawa seeked to have near all the time.

that was supposed to assure you, it was supposed to be enough.

but it’s not.

again, it’s no one’s fault but yours, that’s why you have to act like normal and not like jealousy is absolutely eating you alive.

ah, that sounds wrong, it’s like you’re making yourself out to be some easily bitter person. you have no ill will towards alisa, in fact, you adore her. maybe it really was different when you know that the person you’re in love with couldn’t flaunt you freely at all.

were you really not cut out for this? if you didn’t break up 3 years ago, would you have broken it off eventually?

“i don’t really have a favorite person to work with, everyone’s really talented and nice—” oikawa began.

“what about haiba-san?” someone from the crowd couldn’t help but shout. it was one of the regular staff, and they must have been forced to shut up by someone nearby because all you could hear after was a muffled grumble of protest.

since the world is cruel, that's when oikawa’s eyes met yours again. he must have seen something he didn’t like because his face contorted into displeasure. you wondered what kind of expression you were making right now for him to look so concerned.

“oh? you heard them, looks like you and alisa have fans even among the crew,” the interviewer tried pushing it.

right then, you felt akane’s hand grabbing yours and comfortingly caressing it with her thumb.

oikawa shook his head, “alisa is lovely to work with, but i don’t have a favorite workmate,” he was suddenly a bit more serious, he must have realized he sounded too stern because he let out a smile, “i can’t just possibly choose only one, we’re all one big family on set.”

the interviewer finally let it go once he realized he really wasn’t going to get anything from oikawa. they moved on to the next questions and the rest of the interview flowed smoothly. the whole time, oikawa kept sneaking glances at you as if at any moment you would storm out and disappear. he acted as he usually did and he did it well, but you notice that the slight tense on his shoulders was back again.

you couldn’t focus properly the whole time too, but you didn’t want to leave. you didn’t want to miss this interview since oikawa wanted you to watch, because of that you want to be there to see the whole thing through. whenever one of those sneaky glances came to be, you gave him a small smile to assure him that you were fine and he was doing great.

the interview concluded and everyone started to disperse, going back to their assigned tasks. you only see oikawa and the interviewer shaking hands, having a little chat. you don’t know why you’re hoping you could have time to talk to him a bit, it didn’t look like he had a moment to slip away from the spotlight. maybe in the silly little head of yours you just wanted to have a one-on-one talk with him, if you do that, maybe the erratic beating of your heart that isn’t due to excitement would stabilize.

riseki tapped your shoulder, “they’re calling the interns over, i think we have to help with some paperwork,” he said to both you and akane. riseki gave you a concerned look but before he could say something you cut him off by grabbing his hand and tugging akane over.

“what are you both waiting for then? let’s go,” you force out a laugh.

you fail to notice the glance oikawa sent your way.

which means you also failed to notice his dismayed expression, he wanted a chance to talk to you before he went back to filming again. what happened earlier must have fed into your insecurities again, oikawa knows of it because of the things you’ve told him before. he just wanted to make sure you were okay, you were just slowly giving him your trust again, he doesn’t want to accidentally lose it again.

it was awful timing that tooru and alisa had a specific scene they had to film together today. that scene had to be the one that required both of them to be in extremely close proximity. you were even more unluckier that you had to assist one of the professionals during their scene. It was their confrontation scene you think, you read through their script due to oikawa just leaving it around in his penthouse. he didn’t mind you reading the manuscript but you don’t think it’s particularly something he’s allowed to do (he doesn’t care).

you can suffer for a few minutes, it’s fine, it won’t mean anything to either of them, so it’s fine. have you said that it’s fine? it’s fine, you’re fine.

so yes you can suffer for a little while.

and suffer you do.

“where do you think you’re going, emira?” oikawa (technically, oikawa’s character, dion) whispers to alisa. oikawa backs alisa into the wall, one of his hands holding a (fake) gun on the side of her head, his other hand grasping at her waist. it wasn’t a romantic scene in hindsight, but the enticing tension they were portraying was undeniable, “do you think i would just let you off?” his hold on her waist tightens ever so slightly.

“don’t be silly dion, i know you better now,” alisa spoke, acting as calm despite the obvious threat to her—emira’s—life. “you won’t shoot me,” she says confidently, looking oikawa straight in the eye.

“hm?” oikawa was amused, “but i’ve always wanted to get rid of you though? this is the perfect opportunity,” he fiddles with the gun, twisting it and smiling maniacally. you got the chills, you were so busy watching oikawa’s performance that you momentarily forgot where you were.

“you still need me,” alisa said, taking oikawa’s hand, the one holding the gun and placing it beneath her temple, “and i’m not scared of you.”

they were so close now, oikawa and alisa were a hair’s breadth away while you were the one feeling breathless.

“you’re bothersome, you should’ve stepped out of this mess a long time ago,” the hand oikawa had on her waist rose to her nape to tilt her head higher, “and yet you’re still here.”

“am i bothersome? or do i just make you feel things you shouldn’t dion?” alisa said.

he fell in love with her.

oikawa gave her a cruel smile, “you’re right… i fell in love with you,” he nudges the gun up harshly, “it’s not the nice kind of love, though,” he then starts letting go of the gun, letting it fall off to the side, “i want you in ways you wouldn’t.”

his hand that once held the gun now held alisa’s chin between his index and thumb, staring at her lips, that’s when she responds, “i don’t have to want it to like it, do i?”

that’s it.

you couldn’t take it anymore.

it was so frustrating how you were so… being so… childish, totally irrational, and how you were losing your mind over it. you were being unreasonably jealous and it’s starting to consume your train of thought.

“cut!” the director clapped, oikawa and alisa stepped away from each other and both began to be pampered by assistants, “perfect! that was great, the tension exuded was very alluring, it was amazing, it looked perfect,” the director looked and acted delighted, “i need a retake of the last few lines though, oikawa, maybe you could lean a bit more closer to alisa? and alisa could you make your expression look more like you don’t want it–but you do, do you get me? alright.”

both actors nodded and conversed about what they should do, oikawa took this slight break to look for you in the crowd too. he saw you, but you were heavily avoiding direct eye contact with him and it was very much obvious to him who seeks your attention so persistently.

your thoughts were all over the place, you definitely did not want to witness oikawa and alisa doing that last part again. luckily, the world gives you kindness this time around and the personnel you were assisting put you aside and told you heavenly words, “that’s all for my work today, thank you for your help. i think you could clock out early now too, just drop by your head kiddo.”

“thank you,” like actually thank you so much i can not handle more of that anymore, thank you so much! thank you! thank you! thank you! you said, you were very thankful in a lot of ways. he smiled at you before waving you farewell, you turn around and go to where riseki was standing to tell him you were allowed to leave early so you might just go ahead. “i’m almost done too, could you wait for me? akane might also be done in a few, maybe we could all drink out—moderately. what do you think?” riseki asked, you laughed when he said moderately probably because of your antics the last time you all went out drinking… and your thinking of oikawa again god. 

“sounds fun, i’ll roam around out though for a bit, i just don’t want to uhm…” you didn’t know how to word it properly, riseki looked to the center where the filming was going on and immediately understood. “it’s cool, i’ll ring you,” riseki nods and you smile at him before heading out.

you didn’t know what to do and you didn’t mean what to do while waiting for akane and riseki. you just didn’t know what to do to solve your complicated emotions, what could you do to make yourself be at ease? you understand that it’s normal, these kinds of feelings are always normal, but you don’t want it to be something normal because it’s such an awful feeling to have.

you started walking to calm yourself and your racing thoughts.

it was just… does he really not feel anything for the other person when he has to act scenes similar to that? how could he detach himself from the character he’s playing? you know that it’s all just a part of his job description. he was an actor, it was literally in the name. that’s why you were even more disappointed in yourself because it’s just nonsensical how you were reacting to this.

with this.. this ugly uncontrollable emotion that makes you want to cry.

but you’re not going to cry, you don’t want to cry anymore, you’ve been crying a lot these days and such a measly thing like this would not bring you to tears. you just need to take a deep breath, you can stay annoyed and frustrated with yourself but you will not result in waterworks.

you refuse.

you didn’t realize how far you’ve gotten on your walk, you managed to reach the park nearby. you then feel your feet starting to ache, it really does you no good to walk so far and for so long. as you were approaching a bench to rest on you felt a drop on your head. you tilted your head up and raindrops started pouring slowly one by one. shit, it was going to rain and you didn’t bring your bag with you, you only had your wallet and phone.

you reach in your pocket to get your phone out, just as you were about to call akane, your phone dies.

it died.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

there was nothing near to shield yourself from the rain, as is, if you ran towards the nearest shelter—which would probably take way too long to run towards, also would be very tiring and would not be worth much of your effort—you would be soaked thoroughly anyways. so what would be the point! you were tired, frustrated, and annoyed as you plopped yourself on the bench and let yourself be drenched by the rain with an angry look on your face.

you give up!

while you were accepting your fate and decided to angrily sit on a bench in the rain, back in the studio they were wrapping up oikawa and alisa’s scene. oikawa was in his trailer pacing back and forth because you weren’t answering any of his calls. all of his scenes for the day were done and he hoped you hadn’t already left because he wanted to take you home, but you couldn’t be contacted. were you upset with him? is that why you weren’t responding to him? he bit his lower lip in anxiousness, he was beginning to become really worried and started to think of possible situations you could be in as to why you couldn’t pick up your phone.

it made him worry more.

a knock on the door had him fix himself up as much as he could to look the least bit more composed, “sato?” he called, thinking it was his manager.

“uhm… no, sorry… it’s uh riseki, [name]’s friend, a fellow intern,” riseki began, oikawa instantly opened the door the moment he heard riseki mention your name. he knew this guy as one of the people that knows about the true nature of you and oikawa’s relationship.

“do you know where she is?” oikawa asked hurriedly which made riseki step back, he caught himself, “sorry.. i was just trying to contact her but she wasn't answering her phone. maybe you know where she is?” he smiled.

“that’s what i came to you about oikawa-san, she wasn’t answering my calls either. she left around 30 or so minutes ago to take a walk because she was going to wait for akane—another intern— and me so we could all go out. i thought of letting you know because well… she seemed to be in an awful mood when she left and i’m worried, you might know better how to face her and make her feel better you know? so yeah that was my train of thought but then it started to rain—” riseki got cut off.

“it’s raining and she’s out there?” oikawa was worried now, knowing you, you were probably drenched in the rain. oikawa looked around his trailer for an umbrella and grabbed the first one he saw.

“yeah so i—”

oikawa ran past him.

he ran frantically across the place, making some of the staff look over him in confusion, it wasn’t everyday you see him look and act so scatterbrained. good thing there was another scene being filmed as of now so the attention wouldn’t be on him, no one would look for him aside from his manager. the only thing on his mind was where you might have gone, he was worried sick. you couldn’t have wandered that far, right?

oikawa braved the rain and started heading out, if you were upset when you left riseki, oikawa deduced you were walking to clear your head, which meant you probably walked mindlessly for the most part so it would be difficult to figure where you could have went. oikawa wandered around the streets for a while, calling out your name in hopes you would respond. he was growing more and more restless. he had to think, think where you could possibly go.

there was a park near the studio, it was a 15? 20? minute walk away… could you have gone all the way there?

his feet started moving before he could finish his thought. the rain wasn’t forgiving and seemed to become harsher with every minute that passed, he didn’t want to waste another second. minutes felt as if it were eternity when the park came into oikawa’s periphery. he still kept calling out your name, he ran around the place before finally spotting your familiar figure sitting on one of the benches.

oikawa ran towards where you were, slowing down when he was inches away from you and his shadow covered yours, “[name],” he uttered in relief. he notices how soaked you were, from your hair to your clothes, his brows furrowed and he leaned the umbrella he was holding until it was hovering over you completely. he didn’t care that he was now getting ambushed by the rain, you were more important.

“i was looking everywhere for you,” oikawa says again, despite the harsh rain being too loud and muffling his voice, he wasn’t sure if you could hear him properly.

you said nothing back.

your head was lowered and it made oikawa more concerned, which is why he resorted to kneeling in front of you even if there was a wet patch on the ground. so he could be the one to look up at you and he could finally see your face. he was successful in his endeavor since this way, he does get to see your face. a pretty face that was looking at him in confusion, oikawa returned the look with a small smile.

“what are you doing?” were the first words you uttered to him, it made oikawa glad even if you sounded appalled.

“i wanted to see my pretty darling’s face, but she didn’t want to look at me,” oikawa said dramatically as he held the umbrella steady over your head, “you know i was calling you a lot, but you weren’t answering, i was worried sick, baby.”

“my.. phone died,” your mouth went agape, you were flabbergasted that he came all the way here to look for you, that you weren’t completely registering everything that was happening, so you blurt out your first observation, “get up from the ground, it’s wet and dirty,” you scolded.

“not important right now,” he says, “why did you run off here hm?” oikawa observes your face to check if there were any tear stains mixed in with the rain drops.

“i just wanted time alone,” you reply, looking to the side to avoid his gaze again.

“why did you just sit here in the rain?” he asks.

“the nearest shop is too far,” you mumble, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt as you persistently avoid his gaze as much as you can.

oikawa found it a bit funny how it was just so you to not seek shelter just because it wasn’t worth your energy, but he didn’t get to ponder much on how amusing it is because he didn’t like that you won’t meet him in the eye, “did my darling cry?”

that made you look at him, to give him a piercing glare, but at least you looked at him, “i didn’t cry.”

oikawa felt that the mood was too gloomy, he couldn’t help but tease you, “my crybaby didn’t cry?”

“shut up,” you tried kicking him but accidentally splashed him with water instead. you looked apologetic but you didn’t say the words outright.

“hey! you’re the one that said that was dirty but you’re splashing me with it?” oikawa seemed amused though, he was even laughing, “come on, are you so sorry that you can’t look at me, baby?”

you ignore him.

“darling,” he calls, using his free hand to poke your waist.

you ignore him still.

“darling,” he started to poke you continuously, “[name], baby.”

you felt a tick on your forehead.

“darling, darling, darling,” he kept poking you with a little smirk on his face and continued to chant ‘darling’ without a hitch.

“you’re so annoying, tooru!” you were irritated with him now.

oikawa began to laugh uncontrollably, he laughed so hard that he was practically sitting on the ground now. he just thought that you were so cute, he couldn’t help it. meanwhile you started getting very annoyed at his laughter that you splashed him with the rainwater, this time very much intentional. he took this as the cue that he should stand up, you felt a bit bad, oikawa looked a bit roughed up, and he was still holding the umbrella over you. you were too lost in thinking about his actions that you didn’t know how to react when he splashed you with water.

“tooru!” you shouted and stood up from the stupid bench, hitting yourself with the umbrella in the process, “oh my god!” you splashed him again with water in irritation.

oikawa instinctively stepped back and dropped the umbrella, still laughing. you stomped over to hit him on the arm constantly, and he started to back off from you, “baby stop,” he said in a fit of laughter.

he started to run back to be free of your wrath and you ran after him, biting your lower lip to cage in the incoming smile. the both of you made a strange picture right now, two grown adults chasing each other around in the rain.

“come here, oikawa tooru!” you were annoyed at how he could easily dodge your ‘attacks’.

oikawa stopped running away and slowly started walking towards you again, a wide grin on his face, “what my darling wants, she gets,” he states once he was directly in front of you. he caught your wrists before you could hit him again, “are you ready to talk now?”

you took a deep breath, “i am soaking wet from the rain, you made me run around, and it’s still raining and we just looked like total idiots,” you shook your hands, signaling him to let them go and he does. you wrapped your arms around his neck—pulling him closer to you— instead of letting them fall to your sides, which is an action that startled oikawa, “and i don’t know why, but it strangely made me feel better, so yeah, i’m ready to talk now.”

oikawa felt a nice buzz go through his system when you touched him, a sharp intake of breath, “so…?”

“i don’t like feeling like i don’t have the right to call you mine,” he was about to say something but you lifted one of the arms that were wrapped around his neck to use a hand so you could shush him. “it’s childish, and i feel awful that i’m feeling like this. i just wanted some time alone and i also want to point out that you’re not doing anything wrong, it’s just a ‘me’ thing. like i’m getting jealous of alisa and she’s lovely so i feel horrible, and i’m also getting jealous of other people you might have been in similar situations with that isn’t for acting. it’s not because i don’t trust you, i do. it’s just there’s so many people out there, how are you sure i’m the one for you?”

you glanced at his face to check for his reaction, you could tell he wanted to oppose you yet he followed your wishes and was listening to you intently, “i have a lot of problems with my self-esteem, trying to control my emotions, my attitude, and a lot of other not very nice things. i’m trying really hard to be better, for me and for you,” your voice becomes quieter at the end, you clear your throat, “that’s… that’s it.”

“[name]...” oikawa started, “i’m here no matter what, i’d stay no matter what, so i want you to know that i’m going to be beside you, always, whenever you need me.”

“i always need you,” you uttered it so low that oikawa almost didn’t catch it.

it made him melt, you make him feel so wanted and loved, “[name], i’m so in love with you and you’re the only—”

you crash your lips into his, it was so sudden that oikawa was frozen in place. you didn’t care that it was raining or that you were in a park, and this really wasn’t the right time to be confessing and kissing but here you both were. when you were about to pull away, oikawa chases your lips, it was as if he was in a trance. he grips your hips to keep you near and your arms wrapped around his neck pull him even closer. he kisses you with so much fervor and longing, you kiss him back with the same intensity.

it took a lot of willpower to pull away, “that was…” you were panting when you let go of him, oikawa almost immediately missed the warmth your touch gave, “..supposed to be just a peck.”

oikawa was staring at you intently, his eyes held hundreds and thousands of things he wanted to say. how much he adored you, how much he longed to be with you for the past years, how he wanted to tell you that there was never anyone else and there will never be anyone else because you’re the only one for him. no one would ever understand him as much as you do, no one would be able to give him comparable care and affection.

he would only ever yearn for you.

“i want more,” oikawa mumbles before reaching for you again. his hands rose from your hips to cup your face and he kissed you again. he couldn’t get enough of you, as usual.

“tooru i—” you gasp, he swallows your words with his lips. it didn’t take you long to forget about what you were going to say and let yourself get lost in him.

you were lost in each other.

the shutter of a camera was clicked from a distance.

@distanse BREAKING: Actor #OikawaTooru rumored to be romantically linked with an unknown woman, who is she and is our favorite charmer actually taken? Find out More!

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

akaashi woke up to a series of messages from oikawa begging him to tell what [name]'s favorite places near campus are and where he would usually see her if she's not at her dorm.

kuroo was invited into another stream of kenma's the night before where they played minecraft and started a roleplay-ish drama with their characters.

tsukki's current favorite song is perfect night by le sserafim (ofc it is he's a fearnot)

bokuto adopted a ladybug today.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — who accidentally writes 6k words?? (this gal !!) anyways happy holidays my darlings !!! i miss u all how r u? (also did you guys spot the taylor swift reference? i couldn't help myself)

taglist is closed ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @komzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @renardiererin @yyuiz @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa @nilopillo

[differenteagletragedy]

No thoughts, just Our Life Swap AU.

A couple of days ago someone requested a swap AU in which Baxter is MC's neighbor, Cove is the friend who lives in the city and Derek is the boy who stays for the summer and I have not been the same since.

Here is the first thing I wrote about it, and here is another!

"Do you know what RV stands for?"

"Yes, Baxter."

"I believe you may think you do -- a common misunderstanding is that it stands for 'recreational vehicle.' In reality --"

"Shut it, little boy," Liz called down from the loft.

You smiled at Baxter, and he returned it. You were in an RV that your moms had rented, headed for a quick camping trip to Redwood National Park. You and your best friend were sitting on the couch in the little living area of the vehicle while your moms were up front, taking turns driving.

Baxter had been making up stories to pass the time, and it seemed that Liz had heard one too many.

"My apologies, Elizabeth," he called up to her. "I forgot you don't care for whimsy or fun anymore."

"Why are you even here?" she replied.

He had been in good spirits, chatting away, but that seemed to have brought him down. He shot a quick smile at you, then looked away.

Your parents had invited him along -- after five years of the two of you being nearly inseparable, he was often invited to family outings. Your moms always made sure to include him too because his own parents weren't the kindest people.

At first, Baxter's parents had refused. They didn't like your moms, for some reason you'd never been able to figure out. Luckily, a business trip came up for his father and they decided to give in to his relentless requests to accompany you, knowing that their only child could make things difficult if he wanted. It was easier for them not to deal with him on the trip.

Their loss, you thought.

Before he could get too lost in thought, you leaned over and nudged his shoulder. He nudged you back, a smirk reappearing.

"Don't mind Liz," you told him quietly. "You're here because you belong here."

His smirk turned into a full-on beam.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, you'd arrived to your camping spot at the park, but it was too dark to explore. But the next morning, bright and early, the five of you went out to see the sights.

Your moms led the easy hike on one of the trails, and Liz wandered behind them. You and Baxter brought up the rear.

"This is amazing," he said in genuine awe, looking up at the trees. Every once in a while, he would pull his attention away from the scenery to look at you warmly.

"Was it like this in your old town?" you asked. You knew he'd lived in Oregon before moving to Sunset Bird, and he'd talked about missing the trees.

"No, not quite," he answered. "There were forests, but nothing like this."

Before you could say anything else, Liz fell back to walk in line with you. You gave a preemptive eyeroll.

"Is this up to your standards, rich boy?" she teased.

"I'm having a very nice time," he replied. And it was true -- too nice a time to start his usual bickering with your sister.

"Good," she said. "Because once you officially join the family, this is the kind of sickening wholesomeness you're in for."

"I could think of worse fates," he told her, shooting you a glance.

You'd been nursing a crush on Baxter for a while now, and comments like that made you think sometimes that he had a crush on you, too. It was almost enough to make you say something, but your sister's teasing would really turn relentless then.

Liz hung back, teasing you for a while longer before getting bored and going back up to your moms. After a few hours, with a lunch break tossed in, the hike was over and you were back at the RV.

Your sister promptly went inside and shut the door behind her. Your moms laughed, but then Baxter approached them.

"I was wondering if it would be all right if we went on another short walk," he said, looking back at you. "Not too far, and I'll be sure we're back well before dark."

They had a moment of silent communication, then you saw your ma give a slight nod.

"All right, but not too far," Mom said. "And stay on the trail."

"Absolutely," Baxter said. He held his arm out to you, and you took it. Then you were off.

"Why did you want to come back out?" you asked, trying to sound casual even though you were buzzing with excitement. You tried to keep the hand that held onto his arm steady.

"I thought it was too nice of a day to end so quickly," he said. "I wanted more time out here. More time with you."

You blushed, and he smiled fondly at you.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" you asked before you could reconsider.

"Why wouldn't I?" He seemed genuinely confused. "It's lovely here. You're a lovely person." He leaned closer to your ear and said, "My favorite person, actually."

Your cheeks grew hotter.

Baxter laughed, then said, "You're also adorable."

It was a little forward, even for him, so you decided to take the opportunity to bring up something you'd been wondering about for a while.

"Can I ask you something?" you began.

"Always."

"Why haven't you dated anyone?"

He didn't say anything right away, and you didn't have the nerve to look at him. But out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw his own cheeks turning pink.

"I was just wondering," you added, "since you sort of flirt with everybody all the time."

"Do I?" he asked with a laugh. You did give him a look then, and he said, "I don't actually, you know. Not at school."

"Really?"

"Really."

It was your turn to pause. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, but you'd just assumed he was the same way with everyone else that he was with you.

"I'm polite," he explained. "I try to be friendly. I can't help being a little bold. But I don't ... you're the only one who gets this version of me."

You were trying to figure out how to respond, but nothing came. Your thoughts were racing with this new revelation, and before you could say anything, he stopped.

"It'll be getting dark soon," he said. "Time to go."

Baxter turned around, making a show out of offering you his other arm, and you laughed as you took it. Perhaps sensing the tailspin he'd put you in, he went back to joking around for the rest of the walk back to the campsite.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a fun evening with your family around the campfire, it was time for bed. Your moms went back to the bedroom, Liz stretched out on the couch and Baxter spread out his sleeping bag on the floor while you climbed up in the loft.

You tried to go to sleep, but your thoughts were still racing over everything Baxter had said. After a while, when you heard Liz's soft snores get into a steady rhythm, you peeked over the edge of the loft to see what your friend was doing.

You knew he was a night owl, and so you weren't surprised to see him lying on his stomach, reading a book he'd brought with him in the bright moonlight that filtered in through the windows. But you didn't expect him to look up at you just as you'd started watching him.

"Go to sleep," he mouthed at you, grinning.

"You first," you mouthed back.

He gracefully pulled himself out of his sleeping bag and slinked over to the ladder to the loft. He climbed it so that he was eye level with you, and said, "Can't sleep?"

"Doesn't seem so."

"Would you like some company?"

You gave him a confused look. He smiled softly and told you, "I'll tell you a bedtime story."

Intrigued, you scooted back against the wall, making room for him. He climbed under the blankets, laid out on his side, folding his arm under his head for a pillow, and started telling his story.

It was complete nonsense, as most of his stories were. There was something about mountain lions, and Bigfoot made an appearance. But as he went on, trying his best to make you laugh, he kept inching closer to you. A few times you were bold enough to do the same, and by the end you were pressed close.

"Can you sleep now?" he asked, his face just inches from yours.

"I can try."

[hrefna-the-raven]

Hot as Hades

Misc. Masterlist - Masterlist

Chapter 1

Words: 1939

Summary: the fate of yours and Hades' is bound but the Fates advise caution while Aphrodite is meddling in the Lord of the dead's affairs

Chapter 2 - Prophecy

Hades rushed down the steps, seething with anger towards Pain and Panic for neglecting to inform him of the Fates' arrival. The most important inhabitants of the underworld, aside from himself of course, were waiting for him and his good for nothing imps were too busy with hell knows what to even tell him. They had one task, just one damned task. Hades pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before swinging open the doors.

"Ladies. Hah. I am so sorry that I'm...", he began, attempting to apologise, but the Fates cut him off.

"Late", they finished in unison.

"We knew you would be", Lachesis chuckled.

"We know everything", Clotho proudly stated.

"Past."

"Present."

"And future", Atropos added, nudging Pain, "indoor plumbing. It's gonna be big."

"Right, anyway ladies, I was at this picnic kinda thing and I lost all track and wanted to ask abou-", Hades tried to explain, only to be interrupted once again by the Fates.

"We know!"

His hair momentarily flared up in a deep red before returning to its usual blue flames as he took a series of deep breaths, attempting to regain his composure. He knew that losing his temper in front of the Fates would be counterproductive, despite how frustrating they could be to deal with. However, Aphrodite's words continued to swirl in his mind, leaving him wondering if there was any truth behind her teasing remark.

"I KNOW, you know. Anyway, Aphrodite... Ms. Lovey Dovey, Ms. "Hey I always know when someone's in love", now she has told-"

"About the mortal being in love with you. WE KNOW!", the Fates interrupted him yet again.

Hades couldn't help but slam his hand against his face in exasperation, a painful reminder to himself to maintain his calm and charm.

"I KNOW YOU KNOW! I got it, I got the concept!", he clenched his teeth, forcefully contorting the twitching corners of his mouth into a distorted smile, "so let me just ask. Is Aphrodite telling the truth about that mortal? Will she love me back? What do you think?"

Clotho released a sorrowful sigh, parting her lips, but before any words could escape, Lachesis seized the edge of her robe and swiftly turned her around.

"We're not supposed to reveal the future!", she reminded her sister, fixing a stern gaze upon her, despite the absence of an eyeball.

It didn't go unnoticed by Hades that a disagreement was brewing between the Fates. He found himself in the perfect position to extract information from them, all it would take was a touch of his usual charm and he would attain his answers.

"Ladies ladies", his voice was smooth and alluring, "time out, please. Can I ask you a question by the way? Did you cut your hair or something? You look fabulous, like a fate worse than death."

His slender fingers gently touched a strain of her hair, which popped out and wound its way along his arm like a poisonous snake, ready to strike. Hades' expression briefly contorted into disgust before he regained his composure and tucked the hair back into its rightful place. Clotho couldn't contain her giggles, resembling an infatuated teenager, prompting Lachesis to nudge her in the side, causing their shared eye to pop out and roll towards Hades. He swiftly retrieved it, plucking a hair from it before gently taking hold of Lachesis' hand and placing the eyeball on her palm.

"Ladies, please", he purred with a seductive voice, "my fate is in your lovely hands."

Lachesis and Clotho looked at each other, sighs of awe leaving their lips.

"Alright", Atropos grumbled, taking hold of the eye and letting it hover among the other Fates before transforming it into a radiant dark blue sphere.

"In 18 nights precisely, the hearts will align ever so nicely. The time to act will be at hand, free your aching heart, bodies to bend."

"Mmm-hmm. Good, good", Hades chuckled, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he attempted to push sudden thoughts of your naked form out of his mind.

"The once lonely receives all and her heart be yours to call!"

His heart skipped a beat. After eons of torment from his lonely, aching heart, trapped in the desolation of the demanding underworld, he caught a glimpse of a flickering light—a small flame ignited by a glimmer of hope deep within him.

"But a word of caution to this tale", the Fates' tone darkened.

And there it was, the usual punch in the face, the cruel reality swirling around him, teasing him with the notion that all the beauty and happiness in the world was meant for every god except himself.

"Excuse me?", Hades spoke, his voice cracking with sorrow.

"Should Zeus deny, love will fail.", the Fates cackled before disappearing.

The Lord of the Underworld screamed, his furious roar echoing through the realms of darkness like a wave of scorching flames from the depths of hell, threatening to consume and obliterate everything in its path. His fists pounded against the table in the chamber before he hurled it against the wall, the stone shattering into countless fragments as the sound of his frantic breath filled the room, while Panic and Pain slipped away silently, hoping to avoid being maimed.

You finished work, helping your boss cleaning up before you headed home. Daily life had become more bearable since that night with Hades. With a joyful tune on your lips, you happily skipped through the streets towards your humble abode. As you collapsed onto your bed, a gentle sigh escaped your mouth, your mind filled with thoughts of when it would be fitting to reach out to the god once again. You yearned for his presence and the ache you felt in your belly while laughing at his silly puns.

"Thinking about the Lord of the Gloomy and Grumpy?", someone chuckled.

You jumped up from your bed and turned towards the voice, its origin being the most beautiful woman you've ever laid eyes on.

"Are-are-are you?", you stammered as every muscle on your body tensed.

"Aphrodite, goddess of love and desperately needed in this household", she smiled warmly at you.

"Do you?", your hands waved around, unsure what or how to ask.

"Know about the blooming love between you and the Lord of the dead? Of course my dear and I dare say that I wasn't even involved in all this. He fell for you loooong ago on his own. Whoops!", the goddess threw her hands up and laughed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "shouldn't have said that."

You blinked in disbelief at the goddess' statement. Could it be that Hades felt the same way? That you actually charmed a god? Capturing his immortal heart even before you met him? It felt surreal, your head was spinning at the speed of light, different thoughts pestering your mind while a thousand questions whirled around demanding answers and all while your heart seemed to beat so fast that it almost felt painful.

"Poor little mortal", with an air of amusement, she paced around you, her voice dripping with curiosity, "but I'm not surprised, Hades is one of kind, thankfully, I think everyone on Olympus would scream if there were more like him."

"What will happen now?", you hesitantly asked.

"You two are linked by fate, my sweet little mortal", the godess whispered in your ear, "but only the Fates can tell what fate was, will be or will become."

A surge of emotions swirled within you - excitement, anticipation and a tinge of fear. Your lips parted to pose more questions but Aphrodite had already vanished, leaving only a faint trace of her delicate fragrance behind. It felt as though you were running in circles, every new piece of information throwing you back to the exact same spot you had started from. Unable to find solace in this confusion, you resolved to seek answers from the only god you felt comfortable talking to, so, the next day after work, you made your way back to the shrine in the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Hades had been expecting your arrival, his piercing eyes watching you from the underworld. He paced around in the throne room, cursing at Aphrodite's involvement. The revelations from the Fates had deeply unsettled him, he now also had the goddess of love meddling in his affairs, as if his situation wouldn't have been bad enough. He didn't know of what exactly and how he had to convince his brother to prevent a tragedy from happening, but he was determined to find a solution in due course. He possessed a certain resourcefulness and would not allow his brother to ruin his life any further. But that would be for another day, one absurdity at the time. For now, he had to devise a plan to counter any inquiries about his...what did mortals call them again? Ah, yes, feelings. He intended to conceal his emotions for as long as possible.

As he frantically sought a solution, his train of thought was interrupted by the faint whispers of your prayer. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he materialised beside you.

"You heard that sound? It was the sound of your little prayer fluttering all the way down into my realm and babe, you wished for it and baboom, here I am", he exclaimed, a smug grin hiding his nervousness, wiggling his eyebrows.

"So", you mumbled, avoiding his gaze while nervously shuffling your feet on the ground, "Aphrodite..."

"Yeeeeah I know I know", Hades said, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes darted between you and the ground.

"Is it...?", the question lingered unspoken for a moment.

"True? I would guess so", he sighed.

"So what...uhm...now?"

"We dance, we kiss, we schmooze, we carry on, we go home happy. If you want to of course, unlike my dear brother, Mr. High and Mighty, I'd actually prefer if we were on the same page for those kinda things."

You chuckled at that, feeling your heart flutter at the prospect of a date with the Lord of the dead.

As you locked eyes with him, you noticed a flicker of vulnerability hidden behind his typically stoic expression - a mix of affection and apprehension. It occurred to you for the first time that even a god like Hades might be plagued by insecurities. After all, living under the weight of a notorious reputation for eternity, while the other gods lived their best life on Olympus, didn't leave much room for love. Perhaps he had even given up on it altogether, until you wiggled your way into his immortal existence. He grasped your hands, intertwining them and raising them towards his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss. The sensation elicited a soft sigh from you, his unnaturally warm lips against your skin sending a delightful, tingling feeling throughout your body. A blush crept up to your cheeks as your gaze remained fixated on his thumb, softly caressing your flesh.

"The full-time job my brother so charitably bestowed upon me is waiting. I'd really love to stay but I can't. I'll pick you up tomorrow night for a proper date. Be here at sunset."

With those words, he vanished, leaving behind a faint trace of smoke. A real date with a real god...tomorrow...you internally screamed of joy, trying to keep a stoic expression, just in case he'd be watching. You strolled back home, thoughts racing around what he could possibly come up with for tomorrow evening and what a mere mortal like you could wear to impress the Lord of the dead.

Chapter 3

[ak319]

Oooo hear me out, it's up to you, something inspired by "me and the devil" by soap&skin for platonic arthur and reader?

(AN: Lmfao this is smth else, hope this caught the essence of the song!)

Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, fluff

──୨Pre-camp୧──

You’d always been content with the fact that Arthur and your friends hadn’t crossed paths yet. After all, there’s something universally embarrassing about siblings mingling with your friends, especially a brother like him. But today, fate seemed to be laughing at you.

You waited on the porch of Mrs Anne's house with Isla, Faye, and Mavis, caught up in a lively discussion that had everyone too engaged to notice time passing, mostly about what happened in your classes today. Usually, your friends would have left by now, but something had kept the whole group lingering in a close-knit circle.

“Alright, guys, we should really go,” Faye finally said, glancing around. Isla nodded, then smirked at you.

“Oh, right,” she teased. “Forgot you’re waiting for him. Where is he? Late again?”

You clutched your bag, trying to brush it off casually. “He’ll be here soon. You guys can head out if you want.”

Please do, please do, please do-

Before anyone could move, Mavis stretched lazily and patted your arm. “By the way, we’ve never actually seen him. I mean, I haven’t.”

“Trust me, he’s… well, you don’t want to,” Isla added, chuckling with an odd mix of awe and apprehension. “I have, and he’s terrifying, honestly.”

“Is he?" Faye raised an eyebrow at Isla's earlier comment. “I mean, your dad’s not like that. Quite normal, actually, like he’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes. "Isla, he's just a bit...tall that's it. Which to be honest I hate. I mean like how dare he be taller than me! Eugh. Anyway, you guys, he's nice too, much nicer than Dad I would say-"

"But I never saw him smile." God, Isla. She's literally your younger annoying sister who can't shut up, at this point.

"He does smile!"

You could feel Mavis and Faye’s curiosity prickling at Arthur’s character, especially since they had no clue about his line of work. Isla, though, knew enough, which left her more spooked than skeptical. You nudged her with a playful yet pointed elbow, a silent but clear Don’t spill the beans, or I’ll make you spill your teeth. Thankfully, she caught on quickly.

“Yeah, it’s more of a… ‘you had to be there’ situation,” Isla tried to wave it off, though her tone just made things more awkward. Before anyone could respond, a voice drifted over the porch, a voice that could freeze or haunt your dreams.

Arthur had arrived.

“(Y/n)!” Arthur’s voice cut through the chatter, and all four of you turned to see him, perched on his horse, dressed head-to-toe in black. But what really set your teeth on edge was the bullet belt strapped across his chest along with some guns, a blatant display of everything you’d been trying to hide. You glanced back at your friends, who stared in wide-eyed shock as if Arthur had just ridden straight out of a legend, or a nightmare. Isla, though, wore a triumphant smirk, her dramatic warnings about your “scary” brother proven right.

You shot them all a quick, apologetic goodbye before rushing over, and Arthur extended a gloved hand down to help you onto the horse. “Hurry your ass up,” he muttered. His gaze was sharp and impatient, and you climbed up with a sigh, half-irritated and half-resigned.

“Maybe you should try being patient, too,” you shot back, settling in behind him. The horse sprang forward as you waved at your friends over your shoulder, watching their stunned faces disappear into the distance as you and Arthur rode away.

Arthur’s gaze was sharp as he maneuvered the horse down the path, his voice edged with something darker. “Your friends looked like they’d seen death itself when I rode up. Got anything to explain?”

You tried for a casual laugh, but it came out shaky. “Maybe because you showed up looking like you were ready for a showdown, Arthur. You could have been less armed...y'know.?”

He glanced back at you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Less armed?

“Yeah, you didn’t have to look like you were coming to take me hostage,” you teased, though there was a tinge of nerves in your voice. “You nearly gave poor Mavis a heart attack.”

“Maybe she needs it,” he muttered with a hint of amusement, his hand gripping the reins tighter. “Ain’t my problem if your friends are scared of a bit of leather and metal. And excuse me , for not tryin' to make you wait and rushing here after the job."

You rolled your eyes, but decided to switch gears. “Anyway! Artieee....

Artie = I want something.

"What’s really important is that I’m starving.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t cook nothin’ today,” he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.

Panic struck, and you scrambled for an excuse. “Well, I did cook even with a terrible headache, but Dad was starving, and he, uh… had some friends over, so they polished off everything.” You added a dramatic sigh for good measure, hoping it’d sell the story.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but too tired to argue. “Him and his damned pals. You couldn’t save a single bite, huh?”

“Believe me, if I could’ve, I would’ve,” you lied, trying to keep a straight face. Truth is, you did cook and there was still food left for dinner but you were craving something else. Your Dad would definitely side with your lie anyway so why not take advantage of the opportunity.

"So…how about we grab some dinner? Just a little something for your favourite sister?”

Arthur groaned, but you could tell he was caving, being starved himself, “Fine."

You grinned, hugging his back as the horse picked up speed, your stomach already dreaming of food. Knew you’d come through, brother.

⋆⋆⋆

──୨Post-camp୧──

"So what's up with you?" Micah’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone drawn out in that infuriatingly lazy way, like he didn’t care about anything in the world. You kept your focus on the book in your hands, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"I mean, I know it’s only my second visit to the camp and all, but at least the other women talk. You, though..." His voice rose just a little, like he was trying to provoke you.

You didn’t flinch. The page turned, your eyes still scanning the words.

Micah, noticing he wasn’t getting any attention, stepped closer, his boots scraping against the dirt. "Hey! What’s up with all the attitude from you girls around here? I swear, the prettier they are, the more attitude they’ve got."

That was it. You set the book down, slowly, deliberately, and looked up at him with a level stare, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing your face.

"You should go, if you want to keep breathing," you said flatly, voice laced with a coldness that might’ve warned him to stop before things escalated.

He smirked letting out a scoff, clearly not taking you seriously. "Oh really? Why, doll? What’s so special about you?"

You didn’t answer. Instead, you let your gaze shift to the side, barely looking at him as you spoke, "My brother won’t be happy."

Micah blinked, caught off guard. "Brother? Who--"

Before he could finish, a heavy, familiar hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him around with ease. "Me." Arthur’s voice was low, smooth, and cold, a tone that instantly made the air around them feel heavier.

Micah’s face drained of color as he took in the sight of Arthur, standing tall and unwavering, his stare unblinking and intense. The recognition hit him hard, and the cocky grin that had been on his face moments ago faltered, turning into an awkward grimace.

"Oh...right, I see the resemblance now," he stammered, his confidence crumbling beneath Arthur’s unblinking gaze. "Didn’t know... didn't know it was you."

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he took a slow step toward Micah, his presence undeniable and terrifying. “You didn’t know, huh?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Let me make something clear, Micah. If you ever think it’s alright to speak to my sister like that again, you won’t have the chance to be this sorry.”

Micah’s smile faltered as he looked from Arthur’s hard face to yours, clearly realizing just how deep his mistake ran. He hesitated, then muttered, “I didn’t mean any harm, just jokin’ around cowboy, y’know?”

Arthur didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His grip tightened slightly, and Micah’s hands immediately went up in surrender. “Yeah, you should’ve known better,” Arthur growled, his voice dropping even lower. “I don’t appreciate anyone talking down to my sister or any woman in the camp for that matter. Got it?”

Micah’s breath hitched, and his eyes darted between Arthur and you, his legs wobbling a bit under the pressure of the enforcer’s glare. He took a step back, quickly distancing himself, his earlier bravado long gone. “I, I’ll just go... No harm meant, alright?”

Arthur didn’t speak, only watched him with unwavering intensity, his posture stiff and unyielding, until Micah turned on his heel and hastily retreated, all but running.

Once Micah disappeared into the distance, Arthur exhaled slowly, his gaze now shifting back to you with a slight softening in his demeanor. “You good?”

"Hm. Thanks for that by the way." You answered nonchalantly, already reaching for your book again, satisfied with how things had gone. But before you could dive back into it, Arthur snatched it away from you with a swift motion.

"Wha--"

“Go fuckin’ read in your damn tent,” he snapped.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood. “Hey, don’t take your anger out on me too. I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, still holding the book just out of your reach. “You’re sitting here, reading, like nothing happened.”

"So I just stop existing because... what? Men like him exist?!" You shot back, annoyance flashing in your gaze.

He sighed, clearly over it. "Yeah, yeah, you win the debate, but for now, go. He still has some work left here in the camp. You stay inside. Now stop yapping and go before I-"

You cut him off with a dramatic roll of your eyes, but you didn’t want to test his patience. Grumbling, you stood up and scurried toward your tent, throwing a glare in his direction as you went. Arthur didn’t bother replying, just watching you with an unreadable expression as you ducked inside. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining how he was still standing there, no doubt watching over the camp with that ever-present watchfulness of his.

But deep down, there was a strange comfort in knowing Arthur was there, looking out for you. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the sense of security his presence brought, even if it came with its moments of irritation.

You were luckier than most women, the ones who had no one to protect them, to guard their well-being when this society felt too harsh. You had never had to face that, not completely.

Your brother could’ve just left you to fend for yourself when both of your parents died. He could’ve given up, and let the weight of responsibility crush him. He could’ve taken the easy route, let you fend for yourself, but he didn’t. He chose to provide, to protect. And that, in itself, was something you could never take for granted.

You smiled softly to yourself as you opened your book again, getting comfy. It wasn’t perfect, your life, and it didn’t come without its complications, but it was yours, and you knew you weren’t alone in it. Arthur’s attempts, and his constant presence, always reminded you that no matter what happened, he would always try. That thought made everything a little easier to bear.

Speaking of....

You were tailing behind Arthur as he checked the items on the list. Just another day buying out supplies when your eyes caught the movement outside the general store’s window. A man was yanking a woman by the arm, his grip forceful, and he struck her hard before pulling her toward a nearby house.

Your heart hammered. “Arthur…”

“Hold on.” He didn’t look up, tossing another can into the basket you held.

“Arthur!” Your voice trembled as you grabbed his arm. “That woman… He’s hitting her. Aren’t you going to do something?”

He finally glanced at you, an irritated look flickering across his face until he saw the worry in your eyes. He followed your gaze out the window, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.

“That bastard’s beating her…” you hissed. “I’ll go to the sheriff if you won’t.” You started to take a step, but Arthur’s hand shot out, gripping your arm like iron.

“Hey, hey! You ain’t runnin’ off to the station,” he growled, his tone as unyielding as his grip. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” You tried to pull away, anger mixing with shock. “How can you say that when she needs help?!”

The shopkeeper, who had been eavesdropping, chimed in with a lazy shrug. “That’s Carter for you. Mean drunk, that one. Nothing new around here.”

"Arthur," you insisted, voice edged with urgency, "we can’t just stand here and ignore this! You’ve got to do something!”

He looked back at you, his eyes narrowing with frustration mixed with something softer, a concern he rarely showed outright. “And what, exactly, would you have me do? Burst in there? People like him, they’ve got the whole damn town used to their mess. It ain’t as simple as you think.”

You clenched your fists, your heart pounding. “So we just let it happen!?”

Arthur scoffed, glancing down at the basket you held with a resigned shake of his head. "I’m not sayin’ we do nothing. I’m sayin’ we’re not the ones here to play heroes every time some bastard acts up." He looked away, jaw tight. But then suddenly, your dejected face stung something within him. It always does.

"Fine, but let's get this shopping done first."

You bounced impatiently on your heels as Arthur went through the rest of the list, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally loaded up the last of the supplies. He gestured for you to sit in the wagon while he headed off to “handle things.” Minutes later, you watched as the blonde woman stumbled out of the house, her face streaked with tears. You jumped off the wagon and hurried over, helping her onto the seat beside you.

“Don’t worry, your husband will definitely rot in the jai-”

The words barely left your mouth when the sharp crack of gunshots rang out from the house. A moment later, Arthur sprinted out, leaping onto the wagon and snapping the reins with urgency, the horses lurching into a gallop.

“What--what was that?” you stammered, glancing at him in shock. Even the woman had stopped sobbing, her eyes wide as she clung to the edge of the wagon.

Arthur shot you a level look, his tone matter-of-fact. “I did what you asked.”

“I said jail, not… not blowing his brains out!”

“If you think they take in men jus' for that, you still have a lot to learn, and aren't you happy...? That son of a bitch had it comin',” he replied calmly, not sparing you a glance as he kept his gaze on the road ahead.

You fell silent, a part of you taken aback but another part feeling a grudging agreement with his logic. The jail thing was indeed a dumb idea. You do feel happy. "You know what? You’re absolutely right, probably the best thing you ever did,” you murmured, giving a subtle, reassuring smile to the woman sitting beside you. She was still in shock, her hands trembling as she took it all in. You deliberately missed Arthur giving you a dirty look on your comment.

“Um, don’t worry,” you said softly. “You’re safe now. He deserved it.”

The woman’s gaze flickered, her fear giving way to hesitant relief as she managed a weak nod. “Damn right he did,” she added, her voice firm. "I kinda...I always wanted to do that."

You giggled, glancing back at her with a grin. “Today's your lucky day then. What’s your name? Mine’s (Y/N) Morgan and this is my brother, Arthur.”

She took a shuddering breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “K-Karen.”

“Do you have anywhere to go, Miss Karen?” Arthur interjected, his tone gruff but not unkind.

“N-not really,” she mumbled, looking down, her hands twisting in her lap.

Arthur shot you a look that clearly said, You started this. Now what the hell are we supposed to do?

You cleared your throat, searching for the right words. “Um, the thing is, Karen… we, uh, well, we live in a camp where people are… let’s just say, not exactly law-abidin-”

“We’re outlaws,” Arthur cut in, his tone blunt as always.

“O-outlaws?” Karen’s eyes widened, her grip tightening on her skirt.

“Yeah, unfortunately…” you mumbled, casting a sideways glare at Arthur. “And not 'we', I’m not! I’m…just you know....there and normal.”

Karen blinked, her initial shock giving way to an expression of deep thought. Then, to your surprise, a hint of excitement crept into her face, as though she’d stumbled upon something she’d been waiting for her whole life.

“You know… I may not look it, but I’ve got skills,” she said with a newfound confidence, sitting up straighter. “Real skills that could be useful. My old man never liked it, but I’ve learned a thing or two about… pickin’ locks, sneakin’ around, that sort of thing.” She looked between the two of you, her smile growing. “Maybe I could… you know, join you?”

Arthur’s eyebrow arched, clearly taken aback by her enthusiasm. He turned to you, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. You stifled a grin, giving him a shrug. “Looks like she’s got some outlaw spirit after all, better than whatever life you were living, am I right?” you said, reaching out to pat Karen on the back who nodded wiping her tears.

Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “This camp’s turning into a damn circus," earning him a smack from you on the arm.

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as you watched Arthur stand by, his silhouette dark against the fading light of the camp. You’d done something good today, something right. You helped someone, and he had backed you, without hesitation.

As you made your way back to the campfire, the weight of the day's events still hung heavy on you. You could still hear the echoes of the man’s voice, the rage in his eyes. But it didn’t matter now. The woman was safe, and you’d made a difference. More than that, Arthur had made sure of it.

You glanced back over at him, standing tall, looking unfazed by the confrontation. He had that look, stone-faced, like nothing ever rattled him. Yet you knew the truth. Arthur did what needed to be done, for you, for anyone who mattered to him. He’d always had a way of making sure things were taken care of, no matter the cost.

"You did good today," you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of the unspoken things that lingered between you.

Arthur gave a half-grunt, not really one for praise. His lips curled up in the slightest of smiles, but there was no boastful pride in it. That wasn’t Arthur’s way. "Just doin’ what’s right."

You huffed a soft laugh. "I know. You always do more than what's right. You do what needs to be done." He always does tenfold what you ask of him.

He didn’t argue, didn’t try to deny it. Instead, his gaze flickered to you for a brief moment before he looked away. "You’re the one who had the guts to step in. I just made sure it ended the way it should."

You shook your head, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Don’t try to downplay it. You know damn well that if it had been anyone else, they would have just ignored it."

He snorted, his eyes scanning the horizon, ever vigilant, as if nothing could touch him. But you knew better. You knew the weight Arthur carried. You’d seen it, felt it. He wasn’t the same as the others. He was a brother, a friend, a bodyguard, and a killer all in one. Your own personal killer that too free of charge. You chuckled inwardly at the thought. This is something you never imagined even thinking of him in childhood. What a turn life has taken for both of you.

As you sat beside him, watching the fire crackle, the camp settled into a quiet rhythm. You felt proud, not just of yourself, but of Arthur too. He may not have cared for the praise, but you knew the truth, Arthur was the kind of man who would go to hell and back for the people he cared about. Especially you. And for you, that meant everything.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Can the tfa bots and elite guard react to Optimus and sentinel sparkling beans becoming best friends and Optimus and sentinel force to do play dates for their sparklings

-Optimus is happy that his kid is making friends and he's got nothing against the other sparkling personally. It's just that... it's so, so awkward to hang out with Sentinel while the two sparklings are playing. At first, he tries to keep a civil conversation but it always devolves into bickering and snide remarks. So Optimus decides to just ignore Sentinel instead, settling for watching the sparklings play instead. It's still awkward, the tense silence between them, the words left unsaid and the stolen glances at one another. But as long as his sparkling is happy then Optimus will bear with it. Even if he so badly wants to punch Sentinel in his stupid chin at times. No, Optimus, think of the children, you can scream into the void later.

-Does Ratchet feel sympathy for Optimus? Yes. But does he also think it's funny? Yes. The universe sure does have an ironic sense of humor sometimes. He's also happy to see that for once, Sentinel can put his own feelings and massive ego aside for the sake of someone else.

-Bumblebee may or may not burst out cackling when he first sees the two sparkling happily play together. Then he sees the morose expressions of both Sentinel and Optimus and he laughs even harder. He loves watching the sparklings play and 100% encourages them to hang out as often as possible. Also encourages them to play in the dirt so that Sentinel has to clean his kid later.

-Oh, Bulkhead thinks that it's just delightful that the sparklings don't yield to the tense situation between their respective parents influence their friendship. Encourages them to be nice to one another and happily lends them his paint and art supplies in case they want to draw.

-Prowl finds it amusing that amusing that despite all odds, these sparklings are just the best of friends. He privately talks to Optimus and tells him that despite his relationship with Sentinel, he is a good parent for allowing his sparkling to make friends on their own.

-It's a good thing for autobots to be close and trust one another, that's what Ultra Magnus thinks. Yes, the sparklings are still young and have yet to officially join the autobot ranks but as the respective offspring to two autobots (one being an Elite Guard) it's all but a certainty that they will one day join the cause. So it's good that they get along. He commends both Sentinel and Optimus for their parenting.

-Sentinel... Sentinel is not happy. Look, he loves his kid. Adores them! That's his little champ, Sentinel Jr.! Of course they're popular and making friends! But... why, of all sparklings, why did it have to be Optimus' kid? He won't actively discourage his sparkling from playing with them but he will try to nudge them towards other kids. You know, someone they have more in common with! Please? No? Fine. Go hang out with, ugh, Optimus' kid. Yes, yes, have fun. Yes, he loves you too. Now go play while Creator, uuuugh, stays with Mr. Optimus. Why is parenting so hard?

-Jazz thinks it must have been fate for these kids to be friends. They just get along so well, complete each other, really. To have found and befriended one another, despite Optimus' and Sentinel's history, yeah, that's one hell of a friendship. Jazz just knows that these two fill be pals for the rest of life.

-Honestly, Jetfire and Jetstorm just thinks it's funny. Look at Optimus' and Sentinel's faces! So funny! And they both have to act nice when their kids are there so the Jettwins can goof off as well, which is just an added plus. They like to play with the sparklings, encouraging them to act silly together.

[boneblushed]

But on a Wednesday, in a cafe

muggle!au, James x fem!reader, I’m going through a really tough break up right now so writing this = therapy

I’ve been spending the last eight months / Thinking all love ever does / Is break, and burn, and end

Perhaps you should be used to it by now, this never-ending chasm of pain that begins and ends at the base of your ribcage.

It’s a deep, aching hurt, the kind that promises to linger until you’re forced to surrender. A draught of cool air pulls through your chest, alerting you to the tired heart squeezed within it. Every time you think about him—about the life you shared—it breaks and splinters, rocketing another of its shards into the surrounding structures. A dreadful pang.

Who knew love could hurt this much?

It’s taken a while for your heart to look the way it does. A few weeks ago, it was held within your shaking palms, wrung through with desperation as you begged him to return. Here… take it, please? It belongs to you… it’ll always be yours.

Prior to that, when the aching wounds were still fresh, you wove bandages from hopeful ignorance, fastened them with blind faith. No, love couldn’t possibly be as fickle as he was making it out to be; you couldn’t let yourself believe it was, you’d simply have to bide your time until he came to his senses.

Until he told you how wrong he was, how much he didn’t mean any of it. Of course I didn’t fall out of love with you, of course that can’t just happen; I love you, I’m sorry, forgive me?

And pathetic as your broken heart is, you would be ready to do so, no matter the stakes.

It makes you stomach roil as you think back on it now — the power he had over you, how callously he wielded it every time you spoke. Has. Present tense. The fissure deepens.

It’s terrifying, how quickly your world can shrink into nothingness. Once upon a time, you’d considered him your soul-mate—your person—and now it’s as though the pair of you are strangers, even less than.

It’s true what they say, indifference pierces deeper than hatred. After all that you’ve been through with him, all that you’ve shared, how are you supposed to simply move on and find love elsewhere?

The cobblestone path you walk along is well versed with your rumination. A quilt of autumn foliage crunches underfoot, a petrichor rich scent present in the air. Every shop window you pass boasts Thanksgiving deals that you ‘just don’t want to miss!’; it’s nauseating as much as it is heart-breaking, having to do the holidays without him for the first time in six years.

It’s probably pity more than it is fate that leads you to the new cafe in Godric’s Hollow — you’ve shed far too many tears for the Universe to bear, plagued with motion sickness from how quickly your sadness turns yearning again.

You miss him. It’s right there in your eyes, how much you miss him. James’ on barista duty whilst his colleague Remus mans the register; the latter may discern the melancholy in your features, but it’s James who recognises the exact significance of it.

He’s been through it before, you see, with Lily Evans. His gaze softens, dappled brown eyes falling over you in paces, and he wracks his brains for things he’d have wanted when he was going through the worst of it.

Except, the one thing he wanted no one could realistically give him — Lily. Who’s your mystery boy? Is it truly as over as your eyes say it is?

“Uh, hey,” you greet. Your voice doesn’t crack as much as it’s barely loud enough to register.

“Hey,” Remus responds, sending you a small smile. Playing it cool whilst his knee nudges James’ under the counter. “What can I get for you?”

“Just an iced latte please,” you answer. “With oat milk, if you have it.”

Remus punches in your order as you reach for your wallet. The cappuccino James’ making overflows.

“Shit!” He curses, jerking back his hand hastily, the skin scalded. Droplets of burnt coffee fly onto the machine as he shakes them off.

You startle, turning to look at him. “You alright?”

“Coffee’s on us,” James replies, reaching over Remus to cancel the order. His peripheral vision catches the incredulous look he sends him, but he thinks it a disservice to look away from you in this moment. The melancholy in your eyes ebbs a little. James’ heart soars.

“Really?” You ask, your voice a little louder now.

“Oh yeah,” James responds, faux-serious. “You’re our fiftieth customer today.”

“You’re lying,” you say, a flicker of a smile on your face.

James shrugs, grinning handsomely. “D’you want the free coffee or not, oat milk?”

You raise your eyebrows in response, pretending to zip your lips and throw away the key. James nods approvingly.

He discards the dregs of the cappuccino he was making, starting anew with his gaze flitting over to you intermittently. You watch the trees sway through the high windows to the left of you as you wait, your hands clasped in front of you, one wrist held in a palm. He knows, as he watches you, that you have to go feel all of the pain to see a way out of it.

So he keeps his mouth shut for now, and hopes this cafe will become a regular haunt.

Weeks, a month, two passes. He takes it slow. He thinks your dreadfully pretty but that’s besides the point right now; when he was grieving his relationship with Lily, all he wanted to do was mope and be left alone. No number of Sirius’ “friends” could quell that deep, overwhelming hankering in his chest.

“Hey,” you greet one day, resolute.

James raises his eyebrows at you. Remus is off sick. “Hey?”

“I’m paying today.”

James snorts, shaking his head. “No way.”

“I’m tipping heavily,” you warn.

“Wow,” James sighs sadly. “Like you would any other employee, huh? And here I thought we were friends.”

“Shut up.” You scowl. Not really; it baffles James, how your features can still look so sweet when they’re contorted all angrily. “You’re right. You don’t even need this job.”

The thing about James is, his family owns half the establishments in town square. He’s one of those enigmatic personalities that you’ve always known to rule your hometown; around when you are, dancing around the corners of your gaze, kind and ever-present but never very important. Until now.

He grins handsomely, dropping into a curtesy. He oozes fondness and it makes you forget things often. “Nepo baby at your service, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I don’t get about all this,” you say. “You don’t… why’re you wasting your time here? Is this gig just a way for you to pick up chics?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“James.”

He grins wider, raising his arms in surrender. “Full disclosure?”

You cock your head to one side, intrigued. “I’m listening.”

“Well… it actually started as a way to fill my time,” he answers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I went through a pretty tough break up last year, and I couldn’t bear to be sat at home hurting over the same shit over and over.

“So dad got me this gig. I didn’t even get paid in the start, honest. I barely did anything; made like, one coffee over eight hours. But I was around people, and that helped. I don’t know.”

You swallow. It sounds far too familiar to your own circumstances, and a distant ache rings through your chest — a reminder. “I know the feeling.”

“And then I met Rems, and introduced him to my mate Sirius,” he continues, raising his eyebrows. “Turns out they’re fucking mad for each other, who’d have thought it? And it just reminded me… I don’t know, that there’s still hope.”

Another pause. You know what he means, but you want him to say it anyway, for your own sake.

Your lashes flutter closed. “Hope?”

“To love again. Eventually.”

His rough timbre reverberates through your insides. You nod, slowly, and when you open your eyes, unshed tears darken your lashes. James frowns, but he doesn’t intervene. He knows this feeling; his own heart mourns its melody.

He hands you your coffee soundlessly.

“Thanks,” you says, your voice cracks.

When you turn around, you know you’ll be back tomorrow. And then the next day, a few days after.

You aren’t sure when you start believing it too. But slowly, slowly, without even knowing you are, you begin smiling more. Ruminating less. No one’s ever given you this many free coffees in the past. James’ tally surpasses your ex-boyfriend’s by week four; the small talk’s more about you than about him, and he learns your quirks with this startling sincerity that you didn’t think you’d ever experience again.

The more you see of James, the more you recognise how much love your past relationship lacked. Strangers, friends, more than. All you did was blink.

Though of course, you’d be lying if you said the melancholy didn’t wax and wane, flow through you in waves that make your entire being crash ashore.

James knows this. He still feels the odd pang of heartache at the thought of Evans.

On Christmas Eve, the air feels different. The melted snow in your hair glistens in the warm light of the cafe, and for the first time since he met you, James sees it reflected in your gaze.

“The usual?” Remus asks in lieu of greeting.

“Times two, if possible Rem,” you say. You turn to James. “Coffee?”

James startles for a moment before he regains his composure, his wide, brown eyes falling over your in paces. You’ve always been breathtakingly beautiful, but something about your features seems different now, better.

Softer. Healed.

“You’re paying though, right?” James asks, faux-serious.

“I see,” you reply, folding your arms across your chest. “As long as it’s not a date, you have no problem paying for things?”

“Shit,” James wolf-whistles approvingly, jumping over the counter so he’s standing right in front of you. You gaze tilts, messing with your centre of gravity. “This is a date, huh?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Do you want it to be?”

James raises his in tandem. “If that’d make you happy.”

A pause. “You know,” you say quietly, breaking eye contact. “After my break up, I didn’t think anything’d make me happy ever again.”

James’ features soften. He reaches forward and cups your jaw, returning your gaze to his. “And now?”

“Can’t you see it in my face, James Potter?” You smile poignantly. “Yes is the answer to your question, by the way. It’d make me very happy.”

Behind you, Remus begins to clap. James groans and drops his head to your shoulder, deftly flipping him off. “Don’t fucking start, Moons.”

“Are you kidding? Coffee’s are on me, by the way. Pads is going to fucking die when he finds out.”

But on a Wednesday in a cafe / I watched it begin again

[how-serene]

Next To You

Pairing - Darryl x Fem!Reader

Summary - Fed up with your parents' constantly arguing, you confide in Darryl.

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - heavy angst, comfort, reader and darryl are teens, established friendship, darryl being a sweetheart, mentions of an unhealthy marriage, reader just venting, no use of y/n, mother and daughter dynamics

April, 1986

The slam of the front door reverberated throughout the apartment building, shaking the paper thin walls. Your stomps echoed down the stairwell, following you outside. Brooklyn’s humidity stuck to your skin, the dense air almost suffocating. The spring moon hung high in the sky, illuminating down on you. A street lamp flickered, bugs hovering around its dim glow. 

You sat on the front steps, bringing your knees together. Above you, the sounds of your parents' voices spilled through the open window, a series of curses being the only thing you could make out. Embarrassment creeped up your neck, knowing you weren’t the only one who heard them. It felt as if someone had dug their fingers in your heart, splitting it open. 

Your home felt warped, like walking through a fun maze. Mirrors twisted and warped familiar faces, while doors led to inky black spaces that stretched on forever. It was dizzying, knowing every turn you made and door you opened was wrong. The bitter arguments between your parents, where spit and threats would fly, was draining. Yet your mother claimed somewhere beneath all the rubble she loved him. She always had her hands clasped together when she said it, as if it were a prayer. You wondered sometimes, if she was lying. 

But when the kitchen light would get caught on her tears, you knew it was the truth. Despite it all, it was the fucking truth. 

A pair of black loafers appeared beside you, nudging the side of your foot. 

“I heard your door slam…

His voice wormed its way into your head, pulling you back into focus. Darryl sat beside you, his knee knocking against yours. The wool fabric of his coat itched against your bare arm, amplifying the closeness between you two. 

“I just had to get out of there.” You muttered, picking at your nails. 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. You two settled in a comfortable silence, as you stared off in the street. A stray dog made its way past, walking along the curb and weaving its way through the silver trash cans. Its shaggy fur was matted, either with dirt build-up or blood. It trotted off, in search of food and a warm corner to rest in. 

“I just…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “I just hate them sometimes, when they get like this. All the constant screaming matches, and anger, every single day.” 

“You shouldn’t say you hate them-

“But I do!” You snapped, looking over at him. Darryl leaned back, flinching from your sudden outburst. You could feel him shifting away from you, the little sliver of distance growing. Shame creeped up your neck, anchoring you to the stone steps. The flicker of anger in you quickly died, replaced by a disgust so deep it waded in your stomach. 

“I’m so sorry, Darryl.” You whispered, a sob working its way up your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, before overflowing. You could taste their saltiness on the corners of your lips. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Darryl reassured, reaching for your hand. The gloves he wore were warm as they cradled your wrist. You wished he took them off, so you could feel the lines in his palm pressed against yours. 

“I don’t want to be like them.” You confessed, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m so scared I am, though, that my future is going to be like theirs. Settled with a dead-beat man, no career, while finding every excuse to stay.” 

Tears dribbled down your cheek, blurring your vision. The realization that you might be like your mother was nauseating. Perhaps this was every daughter's fate, to realize their body was never their own, but their mother’s. Every-time you looked in the mirror, the smallest feature was a reminder of her. You wondered, if you peeled back your skin, would you find her underneath? 

Darryl tugged at your hand, a silent plea for you to look at him. His wide doe eyes shimmered, as he reached up and swiped at your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You clutched onto his wrist, bottom lip quivering as you bit back a cry. 

“You’re not like them.” He stated, the gravity of his words stalling your racing thoughts. 

“How do you know?” 

“Because…” He stalled, licking his lips. “You’re too good to ever be like them. You don’t hurt others just for the sake of hurting them. God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You're wonderful, I wish you believed that.” 

“I yelled at you though, just like they do all the time.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t yell at me, though. You were just upset about your parents.” 

You sighed, feeling the fight leave your body. His words echoed in your mind, but you weren’t sure if you believed them. The shattered remnants of your mother were still inside you, as with every daughter. It waded inside you, stirring the core of your stomach. 

“I wish I could just pack up and leave.” You said, leaning into his side. Darryl placed his arm over your shoulders, pressing you into the crook of his neck. You could smell the cologne on the collar of his coat, mint with rosemary. 

“You will, one day.” He promised, placing his chin on the top of your head. “I’ll be there with you, when you finally do.” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait for one day, Darryl.” You said, the words carrying an unknown weight in your mouth. With each passing day, you felt your soul splinter more and more. 

Darryl must have sensed it, his fingers faintly dug into your arm, keeping you beside him. The threat of you suddenly up and disappearing was too close. 

“Hold on a bit longer, for me.” He pleaded, voice shaking. 

The warm night air ruffled the back of your hair, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe you were anywhere else. 

[sohyxn]

OPPOSITE⠀───⠀DANIELLE MARSH.

TAGS : fluff, dani have a huge crush on yn, yn is a dumbass, jealous? dani, the whole fic is more like in dani's pov

PAIRINGS : dani x fem reader, jiyeon ( triples ) x fem reader

NOTES : just finished rewriting it, hope this is better than the og 🙏🏻

danielle marsh, a popular student at ador high school, is known for her outgoing personality and charismatic presence. she was always surrounded by her close-knit group of friends, minji, hanni, and haerin.

despite her extroverted nature, magically there is someone who has caught dani's attention — y/n l/n, someone who's personality is completely opposite of dani's, an introverted student that intrigued her.

every day, dani admired y/n from afar, finding herself captivated by y/n's calm demeanor and attractiveness.

however, despite having the ability of socializing. she could never muster the courage to approach her crush. the fear of rejection and the thought of potentially jeopardizing their friendship kept dani from expressing her feelings.

one afternoon, as dani sat with her friends in the school cafeteria, laughter and chatter filled the air. minji, ever observant, noticed dani stealing glances at y/n from across the room.

"bro" minji called out, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "you've been eyeing y/n for weeks now. seriously when are you going to make a move?"

blushing slightly, dani averted her gaze. "i don't know, minji. i'm scared of messing things up. what if y/n doesn't feel the same way?"

hanni chimed in, playfully nudging dani's arm. "oh come on, dude! you're confident and outgoing. i'm sure y/n would feel the same way as you do. just be yourself and go for it!"

dani sighed, feeling torn between her desire to confess and her fear of rejection. little did she know, fate had a funny way of intervening.

a few days later, as dani walked down the hallway, she noticed y/n engrossed in a conversation with another girl — jiyeon, the ballet dancer for their school? she think . panic surged through dani's veins as she began to suspect jiyeon's intentions. what if she was confessing her feelings to y/n?

unable to bear the thought of losing y/n to a potential rival, dani's determination skyrocketed. she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. with her heart pounding, she approached y/n and jiyeon, interrupting their conversation.

"he-hey, y/n! can i talk to you for a moment?" dani blurted out, her voice slightly shaky.

y/n looked surprised but nodded, "uh... yeah sure" ,excusing herself from jiyeon. dani's friends who was watching ( stalking ) on them exchanged knowing glances, sensing the drama.

as they found a quiet corner, dani took a deep breath and confessed, "um y/n, there's something i've been meaning to tell you. i know this might be so sudden but i've had feelings for you for a long time now, and i couldn't keep it to myself any longer. i know we're friends, but i want to be more than that. will you go out with me?"

y/n's eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. she let out a nervous giggle before responding, "dani, you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say that. i like you too, more than just a friend and i'd love to go out with you."

relief washed over dani as a smile spread across her face. they were both pleasantly surprised to learn that their feelings were mutual all along.

meanwhile, dani's friends, minji, hanni, and haerin, who had been eavesdropping nearby, couldn't contain their excitement. they burst into applause and cheered for the newfound couple.

minji teased, "finally, the great love story of dani and y/n begins! we've been waiting for this moment since forever!"

hanni added, "yeah, dani, we knew you had it in you. now, you better treat y/n right, or we'll come after you!"

haerin chimed in with a mischievous grin, "and don't worry, dani. we'll be your love advisors, guiding you every step of the way."

" what the fuck- have you guys been stalking me?"

"no? why would we?"

"where did you come from then, our class is literally over the next block."

"just shut up and enjoy the moment idiot"

"somehow.."

[guardian-of-fandoms]

Doc's jaw dropped, his eyes wide.

".... Incredible..."

The alternate Frankie stood, smiling softly.

"I know this is crazy, but-"

Doc stepped closer, reaching out to cup her face in his hand, a soft sigh escaping him.

"... Look at you.... you're so.... grown.... Frankie, my dear.... is that truly you?"

"It's me, dad... Kinda..."

Just behind Doc, The alternate Cody smirked, but a sadness plagued his eyes.

"How'd you even find me here? Where'd you come from?"

"What, did you seriously think you could punch a hole in the fabric of reality and we wouldn't notice?"

"Technically, it was Morocco who punched the hole in the fabric of reality, i just got pulled along for the ride."

"Sure, because you're usually so innocent in these scenarios."

"Oh, hah hah."

Her smile turned sour, gently pulling away from Doc.

"Look... We were worried, okay? We haven't heard from you in months! When we investigated the energy spike, we found security footage from Morocco's lair, and saw what happened. We were so worried... We didn't know what happened to you.... I didn't know what happened..."

Guilt panged at the alternate, and Cody sighed.

"I'm sorry.... I..."

He stumbled over his words, but his eyes softened, and he awkwardly rubbed his neck.

"... Frankie.... it... it means a lot, that you came for me.... that you care. I know i've held everyone at arm's length.... and.... I've hurt you, haven't I?"

Frankie only sighed, her hands nervously playing with her harness.

".... A bit, yeah... I just..."

She trailed off, both Alternates looking rather uncomfortable.

A voice from behind broke the pause, causing all heads to turn.

"My my... what a sweet reunion..."

Through the glitching lines on his face, Morocco's garbled voice oozed a broken sarcasm.

"I must admit, this is... rather unexpected."

Frankie rolled her eyes at that.

"What, think you're the only one who can figure out Multiversal Travel? It took us some time to get things right, but i'm here, aren't I?"

For some reason, Morocco only seemed amused by that, letting out a slow, dark chuckle.

"The capabilities were not what I was referring to. No... It is more that you hold concern for a murderer."

Cody instantly grew rigid in stature, the stares at morocco turning indignant and full of rage.

Kade rushed over, gripping Cody's shoulder as Frankie positioned herself in front of him.

"The only murderer here is you."

"How Noble...."

Kade bristled with disgust, hearing his brother's favorite word used by Morocco felt like mockery.

Kade met the Alternate Frankie's eyes, a sense of understanding flashing between them.

Time to rip this guy to scraps.

Sparks flickered around Cody's cybernetic, and Charlie motioned to the rest of the team, as Dani held up the case housing Doc's EMP.

Charlie nodded to Dani, who glanced back at Blades.

"Blades, get our Cody and Frankie out of here. Wait until they wake up, then take them back to the campsite."

"On it!"

Blades disappeared through the dark trees, and the rest of the team tensed up, circling Morocco.

Cody met Frankie's eyes, his mouth twitching into a small, awkward smile.

"If we get out of this, we probably need to talk."

"When."

She returned his smile, lightly nudging his shoulder.

"When we get out of this, not if."

"Right..."

Kade rolled his eyes, but smirked as he did.

"Already doubting the backup? We said we'd get this guy, Hotshot, and that's what we're gonna do."

"Then let's get him."

"Such bold words."

Morocco's uneven stance and garbled voice did little to distract from the twisted mockery in his words.

"Unprecedented aid aside, you really believe yourself capable of defying fate? What makes you- any of you- believe the events of one reality can be avoided in another? Fate has been written, set in stone, you dare defy it?"

"You really believe you have the power to dictate fate?"

Cody sighed, forcing air into his lungs as his eyes narrowed.

"You were always an arrogant man, Morocco. Even now, you still think you're in control. And... you had power over me because i gave it to you. I let you in my head, i let you convince me that i was as monstrous as you. I am going to be haunted to my dying day by what I've done, but right now.... I think it's time to stop carrying the ghosts of the past with me. You won't control me anymore."

He raised his Cybernetic, his eyes narrowed as a golden glow flickered within them.

"I became so obsessed with destroying you that I forgot who I was. And maybe... i wanted to forget. I wanted to bury myself in rage and destruction because i thought it would make my pain stop.... But i caused pain to others in the process. I hurt the only ones I had left."

The golden glow overtook his eyes, the energy crackling around his arm as he glanced around him, taking in the ones around him.

"My name is Cody Zachary Burns. And Nine Years ago, I promised i'd kill you for taking my family from me. And that's a promise i'm going to keep. But now... I know I don't have to do it alone."

He gestured to the local team, and to Frankie, who stared at him, a happy shock in her eyes.

"It's almost Ironic.... In my path of destruction, in running away from my past.... I rediscovered who i really am. And what I have left."

He glanced back at Frankie, the golden glow casting shadows across his face, but illuminating the soft, sad smile, as he extended his flesh hand.

".... Together?"

Frankie grasped it, her face firm, but her eyes soft.

"Together."

Morocco glanced around him, the machine's damaged form sparking, the glitching facial screen blindly scanning the area.

The remaining three Bots circled him, as the human members of the team drew close, closing in on Morocco.

Cody stared at him, and steeled himself, clutching Frankie's hand.

"This ends now. No more running. No more loss. It's. Over."

"I couldn't agree more."

Despite himself, despite his position, Morocco extended his limbs, those horrible claws extending outward as his body contorted further, the plating and wires extending.

The broken, glitched face pointed downward, and Cody could feel it staring into him.

"Let's end this, shall we?"

Cody barely had time to process the metal shrapnel flung in his direction before Frankie's grip turned into a vice, and he was dragged backwards, the jets in her boots propelling them both backwards by several feet.

"YOU OKAY?!"

"Fine, thanks to you!"

With a cry of rage, Heatwave surged forward, smashing his fist into the monster's torso.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

Morocco reeled back, but was quick enough to evade Heatwave's next strike, letting out a garbled gasp as he recoiled from the blow.

"LET'S MOVE!"

Dani rushed forward, clutching the case.

"What's the plan?"

Cody glanced over at Frankie, before looking back at the golden energy trailing around his arm.

"My bio-electricity just gives him more power, but he can be damaged."

Frankie reached into the pockets of her bodysuit, pulling out a thin disk with a smirk.

It looked similar to the explosive disks, but slightly different.

She passed one to Cody, who's eyes widened.

"No way, finally figured it out?"

"Yup, a couple weeks ago. No better time for a field test, right?"

Kade stared at the device with confusion, before holding out the Alternate's hoverboard.

"Uh, what's that?"

Frankie smirked.

"Hardening Foam Grenade. Been trying to figure it out for some time."

Cody took his hoverboard, then glanced back, watching Morocco's struggle with the bots.

Morocco was quick, his attacks merciless. They needed a plan, and fast.

"Any ideas?"

"I have one."

Doc Green glanced back at the bots, then pointed into the distance.

"We have to lure him to Griffin Crest. If we can... We can stop this for good."

"Griffin Crest?"

The Alternate Duo looked at each other in confusion, but the local team instantly understood.

Kade reached out, grabbing Cody's shoulder.

"Do you trust us?"

Cody glanced over at Frankie, who met his eyes and nodded.

Cody glanced back at Kade, and gave the smallest smile.

"Always."

Kade couldn't contain his grin, and glanced back at the others.

"So, how we doing this?"

"We'll need bait."

Cody stared at the struggle, and his eyes hardened as he took a shuddering breath.

"I can distract him."

"I think you mean we."

Frankie nudged him, meeting his eyes.

"Don't think I don't know that look. Cody, you JUST said you wanted to change things."

"I know! But think about it, i'm what he wants, right?"

Charlie tensed, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't like where this is headed."

"Do you trust me?"

Cody glanced at the group, feeling his breath tighten in his chest.

"You asked me to trust you, can you do the same for me? Let me do this, please."

Charlie grasped his flesh hand, meeting his eyes.

".... I..."

Cody's gaze softened, and with tears pricking his eyes, his breath hitched.

".... Let me do this." Charlie wanted to say no. Every fiber of his being, every ounce of his soul was screaming in protest, telling him no, not to let this boy do this after everything he's already gone through.

but Charlie stared into his eyes.

The entire time this Cody had been here, he'd been drawn to his eyes.

They were so unlike the son he knew, his cody's were so warm, so filled with life and raw energy.

But the alternate's, from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him, had been.... Empty.

flat, cold, lifeless.

Broken.

But now, as Charlie gazed at him, something new bubbled up inside.

the smallest flickers of hope, like sparks from an ember struggling to stay aflame.

Something inside him had changed, whether he realized it or not.

A low, shuddering breath escaped charlie, and his hand trailed upward, cradling the Alternate's scarred face.

Charlie stared at him, before taking a deep breath, letting out a small nod before exhaling.

"..... Go give him hell."

Surprise saturated the alternate's face, a sharp inhale filling his lungs, before a fragile, cautious smile peeked at the corners of his mouth.

"That's what we do."

"And you're not going alone."

Frankie leaned over, meeting cody's eyes.

"I meant what i said. Whatever you're planning, i'm in."

Cody nodded, and glanced at the fight between Morocco and the bots. "If we can get his attention- which probably won't be hard- we can lure him to... wherever you need him."

Graham suddenly unclipped his Comn, tossing it over to Cody, explaining,

"Take this, we'll go ahead to meet you there for an ambush, and we'll feed you directions."

Dani nodded, following suit and tossing her own Comn to Frankie.

"What he said."

the two Alternates nodded, clipping the comns on.

Frankie's boots lit up, charged with glowing energy as she raised slightly in the air, stealing a glance at Doc.

Doc only beamed with pride.

"Go get him, my dear."

Frankie only smirked.

"You know i will."

Kade handed over Cody's hoverboard, giving him a pat on the back.

"If you die, i'll kill you."

Cody couldn't help but roll his eyes at the empty threat, but smiled ever so softly.

"Whatever happens.... thank you."

Cody took one last glance at the Burns.

"Thank you all... for helping me find my way."

He threw the board to the ground, the wings extending and crackling with golden energy as he hopped aboard.

He rose into the air, his eyes locked onto the struggle across the way.

the golden sparks reignited around his cybernetic, and the golden glow over took his eyes once more.

"Let's end this..."

-

Boulder nearly toppled over from Morocco's blow, crying out as Chase rushed to steady him.

Heatwave forced himself to his feet, staggering as he watched the monster step back.

"As charming as this reunion has been, i do think it's time to end things."

"COULDN'T AGREE MORE!"

Cody suddenly swarmed morocco, the hoverboard weaving around him in a golden streak.

"YOU MENACE!"

Frankie flew lower, getting closer to Heatwave.

She motioned for him to fall back, gesturing to Boulder and Chase.

Heatwave was hesitant, but nodded, stepping back.

He rushed to Boulder and Chase, where the rest of the team was regrouping.

"What's going on?"

Charlie motioned to the Alternates, explaining,

"New plan, we're going to lure him to Griffin Crest. We'll lead Other Cody and Frankie with directions and wait for them there."

"An ambush, I get it."

Boulder stepped away from Chase, concern filling his expression.

"Are you sure they can handle that?"

"..... I don't know."

Charlie sighed, rubbing his neck as he watched the two antagonizing Morocco.

He glanced over at Doc, equally concerned as he watched the Alternate Frankie weave through the air, narrowing avoiding a swipe from the monster's claws.

"But you can be damn well sure that we're going to make sure they have a fighting chance."

Heatwave switched modes, throwing open his door.

"You heard him, team, to Griffin Crest!"