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lexischococoveredblueberries · 4 months

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*+:”no, i’m not jealous..!”｡.｡

jealous!veneer x GN!reader

• one shot

• fluff

being a stylist for the famous twins velvet and veneer has put quite a turn on your life. you loved your job, and you fell even more in love with “the star”‘s brother, veneer. you and veneer have been dating for quite some time now, past the honey moon stage, and now becoming more aware of each others patterns that you two express. recently, though, you have noticed veneer has had a striking eye on the sweet interviewer, kid ritz, who has taken a strong liking to you.

you and venners relationship hasn’t been very open to the public, especially no pda. so when you’re invited to a red carpet to model with the siblings, kid ritz starts to become a little more confident with stealing veneers other half… veneer starts getting a little fussy, let’s say.

what will he do to prove that you’re his and his only ?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧

bzzzzz…bzzzz..

you awake from your sleep at 5am with a groan of

dissatisfaction , tasting dampness in your mouth.

rolling over to your pack, you lazily wipe your mouth

with the palm of your hand and limply let your hand

fall to the side of the bed, reaching for your phone to

turn off your alarm. you laid there for six minutes to

absorb reality, half dreaming in your head, then

remembering what today was. velvet and veneers red

carpet show. you groaned even louder, pulling

yourself out of bed and stumbling across your room

to turn on your light.

the stylist life really had you done sometimes.

after a shower and getting ready for an hour, wearing

nice dress pants and a nice white collar. you grabbed

a croissant and a prepped iced coffee from your

fridge in preparation to leave, when you heard a

rhythmic knocking at your front door. eyebrows

furrowed in confusion, you hesitantly opened the

door to see a smiling veneer in a black zip-up hoodie

and black sweats.

be began walking towards you, backing you up into

the house and behind your door, where he placed a

hand on your lower back and kissed you sweetly

against the wall. it was short and sweet, pulling away,

your face flushed. he moved his hand to your hip.

“sorry, vel’s in the car. y’know how she is.” he said in

a low voice, clearly still waking up. shaking your head

with a smile, you started ; “you came to pick me up?”

he grinned, running his fingers through his

unpolished hair.

“‘course i did, it’s a special day, y/n. why wouldn’t i

come pick up the love of my life for fun?” he sounded

sassy, and you waved a hand in his face.

“alright, yeah yeah,” you slithered past him and out

the door, where you spotted velvet filing her nails in

the passenger seat of their car. you waved to her as

you headed to the vehicle and she spotted you in the

corner of her eye, smiling slightly at you before

turning her concentration to her nails again. you

knew she liked you, veneer told you she admitted it,

but because she thought you were a good role model

for veneer. and she mentioned she admired your

style. as expected, she wasn’t too fond of the fact

you were their stylist, assuming you were giving

veneer special treatment… which you did. only

sometimes, though.

climbing into the back seat, you set your bag down

and veneer climbed into the drivers seat. starting the

car, he turned completely in his seat to look at you,

his hands on the headrest.

“soooo, y/n, we wanted to ask you something,” he

started, and you heard velvet groan. curious, you sat

on the edge of your seat. “what’s up?”

“did you…” he was basically jittering in his seat,

glancing over at velvet with a big smile on his face.

“good GOD veneer, just ask them! you’ve done it

before!” velvet exclaimed , throwing the nail file at

him. he tossed it back and looked at you.

“would you like to be on the red carpet with us

todaaaaay?” he spat out quickly , his feet kicking.

you smiled and suddenly had a gush of excitement.

“of course!” you replied. you had been to only a few

red carpets with them, and from what you saw on

the internet, people loved you. people weren’t aware

of yours and veneers relationship, but apparently

they were capturing small moments between you

two, like how he looks at you, or how he whispered

something in your ear as you walked by. which, yes,

was actually a romantic comment. as mentioned, you

both agreed no pda, but knowing veneer, he always

found ways to sneak small gestures to show that he

loved you.

“great!” veneer babbled , sitting in his seat properly

“you knew they would say yes, why are you acting

like you asked them to replace our position”

“well i am sorry i’m excited. i solemnly swear to never

do it again.”

“shut uuuuup PLEASE.”

you couldn’t help but laugh.

arriving to their dressing room, (i don’t know what

the building the dressing room is in is called???) you

all escort the car, veneer opening the car door for

you. you get out by swinging your legs over the side

and you take his hand to hoist yourself up. velvet was

already inside by the time yours and veneers little

connection was over. you both caught up to her and

made your ways to the dressing room.

opening the door to the room, you were greeted with

the scent of hairspray and cleaner. despite the

janitors countless times of deep cleaning the room,

velvet & veneers hairspray always lingered; like a

permanent scent. you set your bags on the ground,

veneer plopping on one of the vanity chairs and

velvet clapping her hands together once.

“so! y/n , we’re getting you ready first. i REALLY

don’t need to be messing up how i look during the

process just for you to look perfect.” velvet

announced and veneer furrowed his eyebrows

slightly at her. she caught his look, rolled her eyes

slightly and went over to you, taking you by your

shoulders and setting you down at the other vanity.

“sorry.” she mumbled. you didn’t react, you just

smiled.

“so, what’s the plan for me? are we matching?” you

asked, trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

veneer gasped and jumped up, clapping his hands

together.

“yes! oh, wouldn’t that be cute, vel?” he said

erratically. velvet scoffed and began running her

fingers through your hair to part it into sections.

“veneer, you gorgeous imbecile, we already bought

the outfit,” she pinned your hair up, “stop getting so

frantic. anyway, open the closet and bring out the

outfit. then get out. they’re changing.”

veneer cocked his head at her.

“but.. they’re my..?”

“i don’t care? i’m professional, you wouldn’t be. be

smart.” she shot back. he listened , winking at you

and got up to retrieve the outfit.

when he pulled out the outfit, you gasped audibly.

(ideas, otherwise make your own ideas in your head)

“velvet. and. veneer. this is… holy shit.” you felt

yourself begging to shake from excitement. veneer

smiled seeing how happy you were.

“you like it, yeah?” vel asked, you nodded fiercely.

“good. cause’ you weren’t getting anything else.”

veneer laughed. “she’s kidding. if you were to

somehow in some universe look bad in it, she would

instantly get something new.”

“why are you still here.” she snarled and looked back

towards him. he raised his arms in defence and left

the room.

velvet took her time styling your hair, putting pretty

pins and spray on glitter on it, plastering gorgeous

makeup on your face and was humming a song as

she did so. she felt oddly peaceful, you haven’t seen

her like this before. it felt nice. you watched her

through the mirror as she worked, clearly biting her

tongue. that was a form of concentration she did,

and whenever veneer pointed it out , she would get

upset. she got upset a lot. what’s new?

after a good , maybe , half an hour of work, velvet

was finished, and she had fitted you into the outfit.

she finally let you look at yourself in the mirror. that’s

when velvet gave veneer the “okay” for him to come

in. you were admiring yourself , hands running over

the outfit and fingertips lightly brushing certain

parts of your hair.

“mess that up and you’re done.” velvet said , her

arms crossed and hip popped to the side. veneer was

staring at you in a trance. no matter how many times

he’s seen you in red carpet outfits, he’s blown away

each and every time. he gazed with a smile of

genuine love & appreciation, eyes melting in your

back. and when you turned around, his heart

throbbed.

“wow, y/-“

“absolutely not. nope. no.” velvet intruded, standing

between you two and dragging veneer by the arm

and to the opposite vanity.

“anyway, our turn!” she exclaimed, sitting in the one

you were previously sitting at.

time skip to after …

and there they stood, two angels of pure beauty all

dolled up by you. sometimes you were convinced you

had magic hands. you felt proud of yourself.

(they’re twinning !! :3)

“ooooo i love !!” veneer squeaked, touching his hair

and holding his face. velvet was smiling, twirling in

the mirror and flexing her fingers in excitement.

“as expected, y/n, thank you. now,” she turned and

wrapped her arm around veneer , pulling him against

her shoulder and extending her hand towards the

ceiling.

“cmon, veneer and y/n, we’re going from stars to

megastars !!”

at that moment, a producer knocked at the door.

“showtime in 5 minutes!”

your heart skipped a beat, starting to feel the anxiety

creep up your throat.

“god they’re gonna love us!” veneer gushed, balling

his hands into fists and shaking them near his chest.

letting go of him, velvet started towards the door and

opened it.

“alright, y/n, time to make us famous!- oh, wait, we

already are. ha! i guess make us even MORE

famous!”

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° ˚ · • .

and there you all were, right at the entrance of the

carpet. you stood there focusing on your breathing,

and a ringing in your ears started. you kept shaking

your head to push it away, and veneer approached

you, putting a hand on your arm.

“pre show jitters?” he asked with a grin. you

snickered. “now where did you hear that

expression?”

he blinked at you, then shook his head. “let’s,

uh..anyway,” he gave you a quick kiss to your cheek.

“you’ll do great. i know it. act like they’re all idiots

and you’re the hottest and greatest one there.” you

shook your head at his foolishness, smiling.

“thank you, ven.” he let go of your arm and velvet

turned around to look at you two.

“‘kay, we’re on, veneer, we enter first, y/n, come

behind us and follow on my side.” she demanded,

and you both nodded.

and so it began, as soon as they hit the carpet, the

flashes and voices got louder and brighter. you

waited a moment, then strut your way behind them,

stopping beside velvets side when they did. gasps of

awe started, and more flashes appeared.

“the stylist!”

“they’re here again?”

“oh my ..”

your heart pounded and fluttered and you looked

ober the crowd with a confidence you didn’t know

you had.

the siblings posed and gave the audience what they

wanted, sort of leaving you by your own. veneer

looked back at you for a brief moment, giving you a

reassuring smile that basically told you, “do you.” and

so you did.

you then posed, gazed and smiled at the paparazzi.

you noticed all the other celebrities, some you were

fans of yourself, but most of the attention was on you

three. as you are looking at the paparazzi, you

recognized one of them.

oh , it was the interview. kid ritz, was that his name?

he looked at you a certain way, like his eyes were

going to bulge out of his head. you couldn’t tell

if you were uncomfortable or flattered, so you shown

a smile to him specifically. he looked away, he

seemed to be nervous. you found this amusing. you

decided to act for his camera only, turning around

and looking over your shoulder with a sly smile.

people crowded around him as they tried to capture

you in this moment , and the boy couldn’t seem to

concentrate on taking the pictures.

that’s when velvet approached you , posing right

behind your shoulder which drove them up the wall.

she smiled as she hooked her arm in yours with

veneer in her other.

“that’s enough now. let’s go,” she brought you two to

the stairs that lead to the entrance of the party you

were actually supposed to attending.

once inside, velvet let go of you and groaned. “god, it

is so tiring being famous sometimes.” she brushed

her outfit down. “alright, let’s go stuff our faces and

talk with people we hate. shall we?” she purposed

to veneer sarcastically , making her way to the what-

looked-like-a-ballroom part of the party. she dragged

veneer with her, him turning his head to wink at you.

you blushed and held one hand overtop of the other

in front of you. looking around, you adored the

interior of the building, a beautiful chandelier

sparking below victorian paintings on the dome roof.

your adoration was then interrupted when you heard

someone clearing their throat behind you.

you whipped around, frightened, and seen kid ritz

standing there , his face tinted pink. you blinked a

few times before smiling awkwardly. “oh, hello.”

“hi, we’ve never spoken before. i’ve interviewed you

with velvet and veneer before. i’m kid ritz.” he

introduced himself , a type of confidence in his voice.

he was not like this earlier.

your smile turning genuine, you nodded. “right, i

know you. it’s nice to properly know you.”

ritzs eyes trailed down your face all the way to the

end of your outfit, speaking as they went back up,

“their stylist , yeah? you did this up too?” he

asked, poking his cheek with his tongue. you gulped

and cleared your throat.

“oh, no, velvet did this. i think she did it stunningly..”

you trailed off as you looked down at your outfit,

brushing down a flap. now leaned against a wall

beside you, kid ritz put his pointer finger under your

chin and lifted it up, moving it smoothly across your

face to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“mmh, i’d say it matches your eyes.”

your moth went agape, and you suddenly realized

what he was doing. “oh, i—“

“mhm, it does, doesn’t it?” a voice came from behind

kid ritz, where veneer was standing with his hands in

his pockets, staring holes into ritz’ head. the

interviewer smiled , turning to face him but keeping

close to you.

“oh, veneer, how are y—“

“great , good. y/n’s good too. i think i can , uh,” he

approached you and stood slightly in front of you.

“take it from here. velvet would like to talk to you.” he

notified, pointing his head towards her who spoke to

other celebrities in the distance.

kid ritz looked at him disapprovingly and exhaled

slowly through his nose. he then smiled and

shrugged. “sure! no problem,” he looked over veneers

shoulder towards you. “nice talk, y/n.”

veneer glared at him and seemed to straighten his

posture vaguely as he walked away. finally being able

to breathe, you let out a shaky breath. he turned ,

walking past you. “follow.”

you listened, keeping a distance as you followed him

to a walk in closet out of the main room. you walked

in first, his back facing you as he closed the door. he

laughed to himself.

“i was waiting… waiting for that to happen.” he

began, turning to look at you. he wasn’t angry at this

point, just jealous. you said nothing.

“he looked at you like.. you were a piece of meat.” he

spoke through his teeth. he approached you, taking

your wrist as he pressed a kiss to your pulse point. he

looked at you.

“if he… oh, if he ever speaks to you or so-god-help-

me touches you when you’re not near me and it’s not

fame related, you tell me, y/n.” he insisted, leaving

you a

little speechless. he isn’t usually like this, even when

it came to creeps on the internet. you nodded, but he

shook his head, pulling you towards him by your

wrist, his hip pushing you gently against the wall.

“i need to hear you say it. say you don’t want him.”

he was near inches away from your face , you felt the

heat of his face radiate onto yours. your wrist against

the wall, you felt a little helpless. you wanted to kiss

him more than anything.

“i dont. i don’t want him, veneer, you.. you..” your

glossy eyes looked up at his deep, roused ones.

beneath the hatred he felt, all he could

think of was how you looked in that outfit and

wishing your eyes could only be locked with his

forever. no one else. you might’ve as well swallowed

his soul, because the trance you had him in was

supernatural.

a strange idea emerged in your mind, and you took

action, biting your inner lip until blood surfaced, and

veneer took notice , looking concerned.

“y/n, what—“

your lips crashed onto his, pressing your body

against him to fit the curve of his. a strangled sound

escaped his throat as if he lost a fight to an addiction

he couldn’t use all day, which, be did. your free hand

glided up his waist and to his collar, pulling him

closer as his hand slid up to yours against the wall,

locking fingers.

your tongue dipped into his mouth for a instant , in

advance to you breaking the kiss. he now had a stain

of red on his tubercles. his eyes were low and full of

affection. “there.” you whispered, licking your lower

lip. “now we’re intertwined.” you batted your

eyelashes at him with a smile. he looked a little

shocked but that expression was quickly changed

with a look of comfort.

“you are… something else.” he quickly kissed you one

last time, breaking the contact. you smiled slyly,

putting a hand on your hip. “you are… jealous. very

jealous.” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“am not. i just don’t like when poor punks talk to my

partner.”

“that’s uh, that’s what jealousy is.”

“y/n.” veneer shot you a look and you laughed.

in front of him, you went to open the door, but before

you could , the door swung open first.your heart

stopped.

it was velvet. she blinked very slowly, her expression

unamused.

“get in the god damn car. i don’t have anything to

say to you two.” she said blankly, walking away. you

looked back at veneer who was holding back

laughter.

“i don’t think we’re ever doing a red carpet together

again.”

“absolutely not.” he agreed with a nod, taking your

hand as he lead you out to the crowd, leaving you

baffled.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧︵︵‿︵‿ ︵‿

a/n : this took me so long to publish just for it to be so sucky 😞 anywayyyyy i hope the person that requested this liked it!!! i’m now on christmas break so i’m slightly less busy , as always lmk if there’s anything i can do to improve the characters personalities 🫶🏻

#trolls #trolls band together #trolls veneer #velvet and veneer #veneer x reader #fluff #oneshot #trolls 3 #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #kid ritz

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nincompoopydoo · 2 months

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CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE

THE GARDENIA SOCIETY — ; PART 9 / 10

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k SUMMARY: As Theseus enters Mrs Monet’s apartment, he learns the truth and The Gardenia Society. Meanwhile, you’re on the run from someone who seems to be Theseus, but you quickly learn that nothing in this world is ever what it seems. A/N: Second last chapter let’s goooo! Thank you to everyone for being so patient and I hope you enjoy this as we reach the finale of this series! gif credited to @maanemand from this gifset WARNINGS: Swearing. Angst. Injuries. Mentions of hurt. Being chased (if it scares you as much as it scares me). no beta we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

All you hear are your heavy breaths – cold and dry with every inhale. It sends needles to your heaving throat as you gasp for as much air as possible. The damp air clung to your skin, and every footfall against the cobblestones amplified the growing unease that gnawed at your gut. You’re in a full-out sprint, weaving through the winding alleys, somewhere in the city you cannot recognise at the moment because your sight is almost blurry in the dimness of the night – relying on pure instinct.

In relentless pursuit is Theseus, who bores down your every step. He shouts your name, and it reverberates against the aged brick walls, and it's like thunder in your ears, articulated with such a deep sense of anger and frustration that you are sure it’s not the Theseus you knew. It makes your skin crawl.

You hear his footsteps growing louder, and through all the adrenaline, you feel the tears begin to seep from your eyes, etched in fear. As you sprint through this treacherous maze, your breaths become heavier and desperate as your lungs scream, and fatigue grips your feet.

You don’t know who is chasing you anymore, wondering if he can fathom the fear you’re feeling at this moment.

The alley breaks into a junction, and as you stumble around the corner, you catch a glimpse of him, expression blinded with anger – it propels you forward, muttering a flurry of curses to yourself. Just then, you hear him cry an unknown word when a flash of blue passes you by an inch. You yelp, head ducking instinctively, palms pressed to the sides of your face as your feet stumble momentarily.

Magic.

He’s using magic against you.

The panic grips your throat like a vice, constricting the air you desperately need, and it is so heavy it leaves you breathless.

You tell yourself you need a plan, but the problem is you have no idea where you are.

You need time … to assess. Everything has been moving too fast.

Taking another turn, nearly skidding as you run, your heart lurches when you see a set of steps, narrowly nestled between the back of two homes, almost camouflaged through the obscured overgrown plants that hung at its entrance. You muster the courage to glance behind to only see emptiness – he isn’t there, but you know he’s close.

Your steps stutter to a halt, weaving through vines that adorn the rustic gate that leads to someone’s unpolished and unkept back garden. You burst through the plants as quickly and cautiously as possible, diving behind a wall of nearly dead bushes. Instantly, you’re on the ground, knees tucked to your chest with your trembling palm pressed against your mouth as you willed yourself to stay quiet.

Footsteps – closer and closer. He can’t be more than a foot away now.

It feels as though your heart has been squeezed so tightly and is lodged at the back of your throat, ready to burst any moment. You feel your heart drumming, the rush of blood pounding in your ears.

You hear him huffing, catching his breath. His footsteps grow louder. You can only imagine his gaze darting around the area, scanning for any movement, any trace of you.

Then, you see him through the leaves that appear by the entrance. His eyes drift above your hiding spot, searching for anything that might indicate you’re here.

He calls for you. Quiet, merely a whisper. It sends a chill down your spine.

Silence.

You pray that you are hidden from his line of sight. The external sounds of the city dissipate, and the sounds of your body swell like a ringing in your ears. Everything feels too loud.

Don’t move.

A hand to your chest, you feel the rise and fall with each breath you take. You’re taken back to your childhood, when you used to run through the docks with your brother, hiding in dim corners of warehouses and alleyways like these, taking turns to seek each other out. If you focused hard enough, you could almost hear your brother’s laughter while calling out your name as you suppressed your laughter, hidden around the corner. You remember how it felt, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your heart pounding and pounding in excitement.

You were children. Everything was a game for both of you.

But this isn’t a game, and your brother isn’t here.

Theseus heaves a heavy sigh, almost as if in an ultimate decision that you are too much trouble for tailing down the winding streets. He tucks his wand into his coat, and in utter perplexity, you strain a gasp as Theseus’ features contort and shift under the moonlight, morphing into the countenance of a stranger.

Your eyes widen, knowing that you had called his bluff moments ago. He shifts his hand to smoothen the frizz of his hair. This man, though unknown, still carries an air of familiarity that triggers an itch in your brain.

Then, it hits you.

Blinding flashes of green, red, and blue, and you think you’re about to die. A stranger, Theseus, grasped your shoulders with a profound assurance that you almost fooled yourself and that you’ll make it out alive.

There was Theseus … and two other men.

Prewett ...

Oh.

Mulberry.

You don’t remember much of him. He spoke to you once, introduced himself, and never saw him again.

This is when everything truly starts to click. He’s the mole in the Ministry.

With a shift of his feet, Mulberry swiftly turns and disappears. You hear his fading footsteps against the cobblestones, leaving you in an eventual deafening silence. A moment, seconds, or minutes pass. You don't know how long you’ve been here, too afraid to move.

With your hand still on your chest, you feel your heartbeat finally regulate to a natural rhythm.

Beating.

Beating

You huff, gasping for air. It’s as if you’ve been holding your breath all this time. The back of your head connects with the wall behind you, and you let the tension roll out from your shoulders. With both hands on your chest, you close your eyes, feeling the warmth of liquid seeping from your eyes – tears of relief.

For now.

Breathe, you tell yourself.

Begrudgingly, you find the courage to pick yourself up from the ground, leaves rustling, and emerge out into the narrow lane that courses through humble, nearly abandoned homes – wait, these aren’t homes. Duplicated structures that run for a mile with capsized windows and bricked Victorian chimneys. A heady blend of earthiness and warmth begins to fill your senses. It lingers in the air around you.

The tobacco warehouses. You must be on the docks.

You couldn’t help but huff in amusement that you drove yourself to the one place you spent much of your childhood in – the area now reeks of familiarity. Beyond the shadows of the warehouse, the Tower Bridge gleams in the distance as ships drift by.

For a moment, you feel like a kid again, wide-eyed, with gaps in your smile, like he’s beside you.

You wish he were here.

–

Mrs Monet was certainly a lady to behold, rake-thinned and frail with sharpened eyes – quick-witted with a passionate sense to pry into people’s lives. She was clever in ensuring she would somehow slither into your life, social circles, everything. One of those elderly women without anything better or much to do.

To Theseus, Mrs Monet hovered like a great vulture on the Scamanders. The family friend that isn’t a friend, but you invite them every year for Christmas dinner.

Mrs Monet was vile but was also kind and helpful – well, only when she wanted to.

To his mother, she was affectionately known as Miriam.

She was also Theseus’ landlady.

Despite the borderline criminal surveillance and obsession with the lives of everyone she could her clammy hands on, Mrs Monet was never harmless. She never had ill intentions.

Well, until now. If your brother’s findings are accurate.

Considering that the Ministry wants your brother for murder, Theseus remains partially sceptical of his words. Although, it’s profusely perplexing how a concealed letter, intended for you months before you even crossed paths with Theseus, holds information about an investigation shrouded in secrecy. It leaves him to wonder if details of the investigation were leaked before the mole and found its way into hidden correspondence.

He has a theory, but he isn’t sure of the logic.

All he knows is that your brother sent you that letter, knowing you would somehow end up in this situation.

It sends a chill up his spine.

His theory is also why he stands at the doorway of his landlady’s apartment. He knows launching himself into a solo investigation without waiting for backup is a terrible idea, but he also feels that time is running out. And your life frankly depends on it.

The wooden door to Miriam Monet’s apartment is coated in a deep red and stands before him like a normal defenceless door. The door to an apartment of a defenceless woman. Theseus exhales as something unsettling stirs within him.

The door looks … too big. It’s too jarring. Perhaps in times like these, when certain people have betrayed his trust, things become scary.

But he thinks of you and how this could be the final piece to finding you.

To seeing you again.

Theseus grips his wand a little tighter as he steps towards the door. The floor parquet of the stairwell landing creaks beneath his shifting weight, the echoes resounding in the space. He brings his knuckles to meet the door’s surface, mouth agape with her name at the tip of his tongue when the door responds with a creak. The door opens, and Theseus halts and faces the expanse of Mrs Monet’s quaint apartment.

It’s empty. Dark.

Theseus wonders if he had walked into a trap.

“Lumos,” is the spell that instinctively escapes his lips, brandishing his wand in defence mode. It’s the auror in him, prepared for any sort of threat.

The light emerges from his wand, casting a narrow beam that cuts through the entrance’s interior. As he advances through the narrow hallway, the living room comes into view – pastel, knittings, and rustic antiquities.

The light dances over the furnished room, furniture casting shadows against the wall. Dust specks billow through the area as Theseus cautiously scans his surroundings. His eyes start to play tricks as the shadows tend to elongate into humanoid figures, tall and stretched. He spots a cage by the windowsill, seated on top of a settee – the parrot. It’s missing.

In that moment, Theseus can’t shake the feeling of being watched. As if the walls themselves harboured eyes, observing his every move, every step, across the room.

Then, a noise. Rustling.

Theseus’ eyes quickly dart around the living room, and his wand’s glow swings with every sharp turn he makes in his stance, to the point that it almost makes him light-headed for a split moment. The noise continues, and as he whirls to his left:

– Squawk!

A sudden screech pierces the silence of the apartment. It sends a sudden jolt in his heart as a vague figure materialises from the shadows, lunging for him. Theseus yelps, immediately hunched over with arms over his head as he braces for impact. But in an immediate absence of an expected hit, he stands and whirls around to see a flurry of wings, feathers rustling.

It’s the parrot.

“Merlin’s fucking beard –” Theseus swears under his breath, his thrumming heartbeat settles as the initial shock subsides, beckoning a chuckle from the ridiculousness of the situation. The parrot, perched on an antique work desk, watches him with beady eyes; the vibrant hues of its feathers are a stark contrast to the muted tones of the room's dimness.

Theseus stares at the bird for a moment. It blinks at him.

“Squawk! River Wapping! Squawk!”

He frowns. The parrot blinks at him again.

As Theseus shifts his wand within his grasp, the light momentarily sweeps across the desk, piles of papers and photographs scattered across its surface. Yet, something glints in the shadows. It’s subtle, but Theseus catches it.

Intrigued, Theseus edges closer, light now a focused beam on the desk. The glint resolves into a golden photograph frame, housing a photograph. It’s tiny, circular, and dusty, and its glass covering is cracked. He can’t help but allow his fingers to gingerly trace the edges of the frame, lifting it from the desk. He sees four faces, formal and taken at a studio, and recognises it as a slightly younger Miriam Monet, her late husband and a young man, assuming to be her son and daughter.

He didn’t know she had children.

They look ... so familiar.

Theseus brings the photograph closer, and his breath catches in his throat, heart dropping.

The daughter ... it’s Morrigan.

He knows it. Younger, but it’s the same face.

His eyes shift to the sun, and it finally sinks in.

And ... Mulberry.

Immediately, Theseus knows he’s the mole. It makes perfect sense. At best, Mulberry was a mediocre auror, but he recalls his time with him during the Auror recruitment programme. Mulberry stood out among the rest, having natural metamorphic abilities that allowed him to pass the Concealment and Disguise portion of the training.

Your brother was right.

Not good.

Theseus feels guilty for looking through Mrs Monet’s personal things, wanting nothing but to get out of her apartment, but something else catches his eye. It’s hidden behind the photograph, layers of dust seated over its surface with cobwebs entangled to it.

It is a brooch. A wooden frame encasing an embroidered flower. It’s faded, thread yellowed over time, but Theseus swears he has seen the same pattern.

He shifts the brooch within his grasp, fingertips brushing the dust off its surface to get a better glimpse.

Yet, he spots words lined at the curve of the wood. It’s meticulously engraved, and under the dim moonlight that cuts through the table-side window, the words shimmer to clarity and reveal: THE GARDENIA SOCIETY.

He freezes at the sight of those words.

He had only ever heard of The Gardenia Society from his mother. They were women who sought protection as witches, including their families living in Scourer-founded communities that developed a deep hatred towards magic.

The society mainly established itself in America in secret. It expanded throughout Europe as Scourer descendants, but the society became scarce as threats against witches and wizards decreased.

Theseus never knew there was ever an establishment in England. Perhaps they were so small that nobody outside their community knew about them.

The symbolism of Gardenias finally makes sense to him.

Yet, you never mentioned anything about this and as far as everyone was concerned, you were a muggle.

Theseus guesses that your mother kept this a secret from you.

It’s always the secrets. Your family and their skeletons in the closet.

Maybe it was never about you, your brother or your father, but always has been about your mother.

“– Squawk! River Wapping! Squawk!” The parrot speaks again, and Theseus looks up to meet the bird’s watchful gaze.

Is he crazy, or is the parrot trying to tell him something?

… River. Wapping.

River. Thames. Wapping. Docks.

The London Docks.

He knows Mrs Monet’s late husband had worked at a pub by the docks. The pub turned out to be a front for secret and illegal operations of brewing dark potions.

Theseus recalls the raid. He had just become an auror at the time. Though, there was no evidence of Mr Monet’s involvement with the backroom operations.

He cannot believe he had just received a lead from a parrot.

“Bloody hell.”

“Squawk! Bloody hell!”

–

Wapping is a docks town – tiny and old.

Shipmen toil with tumultuous diligence, hurling hefty cargo onto ships that sway to the rhythmic laps on the lowering tides. You stagger through the shadows, low moonlight cracking through the lanterns that line the docks as your eyes linger, the workers chat in loud conversations, superiors barking orders from the warehouses.

Of all the memories of you and your brother’s childhood maritime fascination, you don’t hold the same excitement as you did years ago. Not when you’re being hunted like an animal on the loose.

Your feet have gone past aching, now numb against the rough cobblestone lane. Your mind isn’t present; it’s far away and clouded by constant panic. It’s how your mere instincts carried your feet through the alleyways and onto the moss-clad stairs leading to the shore of the River Thames.

You see that the tides are low, revealing the rocky expanse that stretches along the river – you stumble down the stairs, finding that the area is secluded, though you hear laughter from the bar a mile from where you were. Other than that, it’s quiet out here.

The rocks crunch beneath your feet, and the wind bustles through. It makes you shudder.

Then, you hear your name. It echoes, sounding desperate, and for a moment, your heart drops.

Whirling around, you see a figure through the growing fog, running towards you. It begs you to stumble further away, your heart thrumming as you feel your stomach start to hurl.

It almost looks like –

It’s Theseus. From initially worried eyes transform into an expression of relief once his gaze meets yours. A smile creeps onto his lips, grinning so widely that you see it gleaming from where you stood under the darkness of night.

But your mind reeks at the very sight of him, unsure if he’s real or fake. You continue to stagger backwards, forcing a wider distance between you.

“Don’t come any closer!” you scream, tears threatening to spill at your words. Theseus immediately halts, hands raised in defence.

He says your name again. Surprised, yet sad.

You swallow. “How do I know if it’s really you?!”

He brings his hands down to his sides, frowning. He’s clearly confused. “What?”

You almost think you see the hurt in his gaze.

“How do I know if it’s really you?” you accentuate every word, making it clear that you truly mean your question. That this is serious.

No more tricks.

Theseus doesn’t say anything for a while but blinks, almost in contemplation. As if he’s trying to dechiper the situation and everything that has happened to you.

“I–I know about Mulberry. I know he’s the mole.”

You stand your ground, though you want to believe his words. You cannot trust yourself.

Theseus takes a careful step back, recognising that you lost all trust in him sometime between the fire and now.

It’s a silent understanding, the way his eyes glimmer in the moonlight. You almost think it’s tears, but you cannot tell.

Theseus exhales. It shudders in the cool air and recalls the first time he spoke to you.

We’ll protect you. I promise.

“… I promised to protect you. To keep you safe. And I failed you. I know that.”

A beat. You can feel your guard slipping off, giving in to Theseus’ sincere words.

You know a liar when you see one.

This man before you is not one.

“I’m sorry.”

Two words.

Enough to bring yourself to close the distance, and you’re pulling him into your arms. You feel the warmth of his grip, holding you so close as his head slips down to touch your cheek.

Hand on the back of your shoulder. Hand on your waist.

It’s strong. Firm. As if with one move, you’ll disappear into thin air.

Theseus smells like everything you’ve come to associate with the feeling of being safe: the soft embers of his fireplace, the sweetness of ink and the warmth of cinnamon.

You let yourself shut your eyes. Your hands grip the back of his neck a little tighter, his hair beneath your touch. He exhales, breath fanning your ear, and now, in his arms, you finally let yourself fall apart.

“Thank you for coming back for me.”

It’s quiet, a mere breath. Softer than a whisper.

Theseus holds you a little closer in response as if you aren’t any closer than before. He decides then that this ... this would be enough.

“Always.”

But the warmth of his touch and the feeling of safety quickly vanished. Now, replaced with an excruciating pain that transcends through your body. It’s searing against every muscle to your back that a cry leaves your lips. But your senses freeze at its impact, your voice merely an echo in the distance as your ears start to ring.

All you think about is how much it burns.

Before you know it, you’re slipping to your knees, but Theseus holds you so tight that you don’t feel yourself falling to the ground.

You see shadows in the fog. They grow with every passing second.

“Do you really think you could get away from me?”

A voice. Loud. Booming.

Your head is spinning, your heart gasping.

Theseus’ heart drops as he grasps you, staring down at you with pain carved across your face. Your eyes are wide, fighting gasps as if you had the air knocked out from your lungs. Panic surges through him like fire, and it burns his thumping heart.

He just got you back.

He should have seen this coming.

Theseus brings his gaze forward, knowing all too well it was the voice of the very woman behind all the chaos that has been happening to you.

From the shadows emerges Mrs Monet with Mulberry and Morrigan by her side. Rage flares and settles within his chest as he watches her grim smile appear, a sickening twist to her naive facade. The lines on her face now portray a hardened look rather than the fragile woman she was deemed to be.

This is Miriam Monet. Not the woman whom his mother trusted. And at this very moment, Theseus will do everything in his power to not lose you. All over again.

TAGLIST:

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

@inlovewithfictionalcharacters27

@aterriblelangblr

@yournewmommy

@mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@eternallyvenus

@poolnoodlerescuer

@mads-weasley

@decrepit-bees-knees

@lanespeaks

@127djarin

@iceman-kazansky

@wilmasvensson

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander x you #caught in a crossfire

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odyssean-flower · 8 months

Text

Yandere Neuvillette + Phantom of the Opera

I posted about this a while ago

Don't have any plans to write a full fic about this in the near future. feel free to take these ideas and expand on them if you like (credit me first tho)

warning: it's very long and rambly. i really should work on that

neuvillette is one of the last remaining dragons, if not the only, in the world. his kind has long been hunted into extinction by humans. he can keep a mostly human form, but he can't hide his tail, his slitted pupils, or his horns, so going outside is out of the question

neuvillette spends his days beneath the opera house (which is built on the water of course), surrounded by ancient ruins and other sea creatures as his only company.

neuvillette is a brilliant man with the most beautiful voice anyone has ever heard, but because he is who he is, he can never show these skills, or be appreciated for them

even though he's pretty much immortal, neuvillette feels like he's already dead, with nothing to look forward to but an eternity alone

he has the powers to bring the opera house down (and possibly the world), but doesn't because...what's the point? what good will that do?

so neuvillette is resigned to his fate, until...you show up

you are a new member of the chorus, innocent and naive with big dreams of one day having a lead role. your voice is nothing special, but you keep practicing

progress is slow. it feels like you're in a rut. you feel like you'll always be in the background. no one understands your feelings, and you're told to be content with your position

one day, neuvillette hears you practice and is entranced. even though your voice was unpolished, it contained a lot of emotion and passion--things that had long become foreign to him. he sneaks a peek at you from a hole in the wall just in time to see you stop and break down crying after you went off key. you tearfully wonder out loud if you should just give up singing

that alarms neuvillette. once he heard you sing, it's as though he became addicted. hearing your voice was like seeing the sunlight for the first time after being in the darkness for ages. he needs more

he decides to politely introduce himself as the "angel of music" and offers to teach you how to sing. after you get over your initial shock of some random disembodied voice talking to you, you agree enthusiastically. have i mentioned that you are very innocent and naive

and so your private lessons begin. at first you were somewhat apprehensive about this, but your "angel" is so kind and patient, and such a good teacher, that your doubts are quickly dispelled. you can feel yourself improving drastically in a short time

meanwhile, neuvillette finds himself falling in love/becoming attached to you. he knows that he shouldn't be interacting with you, that you will probably be afraid of him and reject him like everyone else, but he impatiently looks forward to your private lessons every day. he likes to hear you talk about your life (he himself is less forthcoming about his own life), he likes how much you respect and idolize him, he feels like you two are kindred spirits

you would occasionally ask to see him in person, but he always declines, fearing your rejection. he becomes tempted as you spend more time together. what if...you'll accept him as he is?

a few months later, you audition for the lead role in a new opera and stuns everyone with your angelic voice. you receive a standing ovation when you finish your first performance. there's a new opera star in town now

neuvillette knows he should be happy for you, but seeing you being showered with attention and gifts from people who (in his view) have more sinister and impure intentions than simply admiring your voice sparks a jealous rage within him and a deep sadness that he can't court you like they can. he'll be forced to watch you shine from the darkness, and eventually you'll leave him

you notice that your angel has been speaking to you less frequently, which makes you sad. you had come to see him as your guardian angel, the one person you could confess all your hopes and fears to. you've got plenty of friends and admirers now, but they're not the same

eventually, you beg to see him, apologizing to him (though you don't know why). he finally obliges to take you down to his realm (insert "phantom of the opera" here) (actually i might try to write this scene)

you are amazed by the beauty of this underwater realm, and even more so by the beauty of your "angel". his draconic features didn't frighten or put you off at all. you fondly remember your favorite childhood stories about the hydro dragons, and how sad you were when your parents told you that they were all dead

neuvillette is hopeful. will you stay down here with him? you are reluctant and return to the surface.

as your fame grows, the waters around the opera house become unsettled and stormy. waves crash against the building. the opera house starts to get flooded very quickly

just as the staff plans to evacuate, your "angel" speaks to you again. he sounds very different this time, though. he tells you that this is all his doing, and that you can put a stop to it by giving yourself in marriage to him (he already has the wedding dress and everything). Would you be so cruel as to leave your friends and coworkers to their deaths? Neuvillette know what you will choose. your soul is as familiar to him as the waters he resides in

#neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #my works

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haunting-venus · 6 months

Text

green with desire ↳ rafael barba x fem!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), canonical svu violence, jealousy, feelings of inadequacy/anxiety ( so, light angst ), dirty talk, fem!dom if you squint really hard, some begging

word count: 6241

Of all of the terrible ideas you’d had in your life, debating punching a police officer in a crowded bar was definitely top three on the list. Your rational mind knew that it would end with split knuckles and an assault charge, while the emotional side of your brain told you to throw rationale to the wind and throw your knuckles across that brown-haired bitch’s temple.

You tried to focus your gaze on anything but the woman inciting your rage, your nails biting into your thigh. Soft light flickered off of the vintage art prints hanging on the wall, reflecting the black-and-white images of famous figures in the history of New York. Pop music sounded against the walls, just loud enough that you could feel the bump in the music at the bottom of your chest. The venue was moderately sized but felt claustrophobic with the amount of casually dressed NYPD officers that teemed at all corners, sipping a variety of beers and leaning against the polished mahogany countertop of the bar.

Leaning against that mahogany bar was a tall, slender woman with tumbling brown hair and doe eyes squinted in delight at the man in front of her. A manicured, unpolished finger circled the rim of her mojito while her other hand rested closer and closer to the man’s rested elbow. Below her fitted purple top rested a gleaming gold badge, saddled on a shapely hip. Her teeth glinted just as brightly as her badge when she giggled, lightly swatting the man’s arm. None of this would necessarily be a problem, if the man the officer was inching towards was not your boyfriend.

Instead of letting your fist connect where it was itching to, your grip tightened on your margarita glass and took a heavy gulp of the sour drink. You were a guest at an unofficial NYPD get-together, surrounded by acquaintances celebrating the recent closing of a corruption case in tandem with an officer’s birthday. Somewhere in the crowd, Detective Sonny Carisi strolled with a beer in his hand and a ‘Happy Birthday Big Boy’ pin gleaming on his breast. Tensions had run so high within the precinct the last few weeks that the need to let loose was nearly oozing off of every civil servant in the bar. The last thing anyone here needed was a librarian they barely knew from Queens assaulting a police officer and disrupting a perfectly civil get-together.

You’d met Rafael Barba while waiting in a ridiculously long line for the new coffee shop that opened down the street from the library you worked at. Caught in your own world listening to a podcast, eyes downcast to adjust a seam on your cable-knit sweater, you had collided head on with the rushing attorney resulting in black coffee tipping onto each of you. The pale blue shirt under his pin-checked brown vest and jacket had suffered the most, thoroughly drenched in hot coffee with a mottled brown stain right across his chest. You’d made a horrified, choked noise and tried to apologize as you rushed across the room in search of napkins, mumbling apologies as you dabbed at his wet suit in vain.

His annoyed gaze had softened slightly as he watched you flit around the shop with pink cheeks and wild eyes, completely ignoring the mess on your own shirt in favor of making amends to a complete stranger. He had eventually chuckled, pushing your hand away from his chest and declaring the suit a lost cause. You’d finally been able to get a good luck at him as you lowered your hands, trying to reassemble some sense of pride as the patrons of the shop gazed after your neurotic display. He was hispanic, not too tall but with broad shoulders outlined pristinely by his tailored jacket, brown hair coiffed and barely out of place even with all of your fretting. His green eyes shone with a hint of amusement even behind his mostly serious expression.

You had insisted on paying for the dry-cleaning of his suit, to which he brushed off the offer with a chuckle, promising that no grudges would be held in exchange for a new cup of coffee. He had been intrigued with your kindhearted (if strange) behavior and the way your cheeks flushed cutely when he smiled at you, prompting him to ask if you’d have time to meet for a real sit-down coffee the following week. You’d been delighted and tense at once, not one to go out on a limb with strangers, especially such handsome and well-spoken ones.

When you had met Rafael for coffee the following Thursday, the two of you had thankfully been able to avoid spilling your drinks on one another, to which Rafael had given a quick joke about in order to break the ice. You’d found yourself easily falling into conversation with Rafael, who you had learned was a prosecutor that worked nearby for the District Attorney’s office. Your nerves were quickly comforted by his easy ability to joke and his unhidden interest in getting to know you, his soft green eyes never leaving your smiling face. It didn’t take long to discover that you shared a love for historical fiction literature and high-end coffee, and you had ended the lunch with entwined fingers as he walked you to the large double doors of the library you worked at.

A few lunches quickly turned into dinners on the rare nights when Rafael was able to escape his office, where he showered you with compliments and wine expensive enough that it made you nervous to drink it. You’d quickly become accustomed to the strong feel of his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you in the entrance of his oak-furnished apartment entryway, heat rushing through your veins at the heated whispers he hissed into your neck. You treasured the quiet mornings in his kitchen almost more than the extravagant dinners. Scrambled eggs and espresso in his brightly-lit kitchen overlooking the city, his hair soft and unstyled as he swayed with you on the tile floor, that peek into this more relaxed version of your usually nothing-less-than-proper partner felt more precious than gold.

You’d never been the type of person that flaunted their relationship, especially since Rafael was such a prominent figure in the New York legal system. There was a prickling fear in the early days of your relationship that you were too plain to publicly be seen with a man associated with such prestige and power, that you would look like nothing more than a sweater-clad bookworm feigning at being worthy of a man much above her standing. When Rafael had discovered this, he’d been quick to quiet your concerns with his fingers in your hair and his head between your legs until you could think of nothing else.

After his many reassurances that he would love to show you off at any time possible, including to his coworkers, you’d become more self-confident. You’d begun to surprise Rafael at work with bagel sandwiches from an artisan bakery in between your workplaces, toting coffee and paper bags through the looming hallways of Hogan Place and barely paying attention to those who spared you a second glance for planting a kiss on the primly dressed ADA. Soon afterward, you had joined the squad of the Special Victims Unit and Rafael for the celebration of the conviction of a serial rapist. You were proud of the progress you had made with Rafael’s coworkers, forming timid friendships with the detectives that he worked so closely with on a daily basis. You were glad that you’d gained enough confidence to hold your own without using Rafael as a fallback in social situations with his coworkers, but it all felt bittersweet now that he’d been approached by another woman as soon as you had gone to chat with Detective Rollins with celebratory tequila shots.

You had gathered vaguely from Amanda that the brunette ogling your boyfriend at the bar was a recent witness in a major police corruption case that Rafael had been handling, Detective Sandra Allen from the Narcotics division. She was a hero and a villain at the same time in the eyes of her fellow cops; a snitch who ratted on her fellow officers who were spending their county-paid salary hours manipulating prostitutes into sexual favors in exchange for staying out of prison. The case made you sick, and the fact that you could feel nothing but disdain for this woman who bravely stood up and testified on behalf of those sex workers made shame burn deep in your stomach.

You didn’t need to be a police officer to notice Amanda’s sly looks between you and the scene going on at the bar, or that she was trying to hold back her laughter from the growing redness in your face that you tried to blame on the alcohol. You had hardly been listening to Fin’s rambling story about how his grandson had been inexplicably angry at the balloons he’s seen in the park because they would not stop floating, no matter how much he asked. On any other day, you would have loved to look at Fin half-drunkenly showing off his adorable lump of a grandson with a grinning smile. Right now, though, you could only hear the deep cadence of Rafael’s laugh as he finished off his scotch, and only see Detective Allen’s beautiful and flirtatious smile directed toward the man you had spent the last several months building a life with.

You were worried that the glass in your hand would shatter under your grip as you set it forcefully on the table. You knew there was no reason for you to be acting this way, feeling so scorned and bubbling with jealousy over the easy way that Allen fawned over your partner. You knew more than anyone the easy charm that Rafael brought to conversations, even when he was being a sarcastic bastard. You knew you weren’t the only woman who admired his passion and his good-looks, but having it shoved in your face like this felt much worse than just knowing it in the back of your mind.

Amanda’s mischievous expression quickly morphed to shielded concern when she noticed just how much you were bothered by the scene in front of you. Her demeanor took on the protective edge that came so easily to all the detectives you had met at the SVU, poised to talk someone down or to throw an elbow into someone’s teeth. “Hey, you want me to go do some crowd control over at the bar? I’m sure the Counselor is just waiting for the best opportunity to get out of there.”

You knew that you should just go over there and put a stop to it. You wanted so badly to have the conviction to strut over to Rafael, straddle his lap and make him moan in front of that woman, to show her just how he crumbled under your touch, how you were the one to bring him to his knees, to receive his hardships and his worship, not her. That display of power, of claim over a man that so many people wanted, would no doubt make her back off. But that wasn’t who you were. You were not the sultry-smiled woman who captured the eyes of every room she walked into, the one who could bite at a woman to back off of what was hers. So, instead, you threw back the rest of your drink, taking a moment to relish in the burn of tequila and the acidity of the lime that buzzed through your veins, and sent a tight-lipped smile to Amanda and Fin.

“I think I’m actually gonna turn in for the night. Too much tequila makes me stupid, you know.” You gave an unconvincing chuckle as you set some bills on the table to cover your drinks and a tip. Amanda opened her mouth to protest, hoping to keep you from leaving, but you were already pulling your peacoat onto your shoulders.

You had only gotten halfway down the street, heaving heavy breaths to lighten your heart rate and the burn behind your eyes, when Rafael called out your name from the direction of the bar. The street was relatively quiet for a Wednesday night, with only a few stragglers walking between the handful of establishments on the block. You steadied your expression before turning on your heel towards him with a shaky smile.

He stepped toward you with a soft look so often reserved only for you, his brows furrowed in slight worry. His black trenchcoat fell beautifully against his broad chest, green eyes accented by the specks of emerald in his patterned tie. Even after months, you still felt yourself melt a little at the kindness behind his eyes. “You ran out so quickly with no goodbye, is everything alright?”

“I’m just tired, and you seemed like you were having a good time talking to Detective Allan. Didn’t want to take you away from the fun.”

His eyebrows rose in question at the unexpected bite in your tone. You had tried to hide your rising feelings with the shit poor excuse, but Rafael hadn’t become a successful ADA by not being able to read people. It was one of the things you loved and hated about him, how he could peel back the layers of what you were feeling to gaze at the very core of you. It made you feel cared for and probed at the same time.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I was only being cordial with a witness who put a lot on the line to testify in our case.” He stepped into your space, running a thumb across your cold and flushed cheeks. His voice was steady, his eyes honest but confused. You scoffed lightly, still feeling your anger simmering but being calmed by his steadying touch. His hand dropped from your cheek at your exclamation, steadying a solid look at you. “Look, you know I am not exactly the DA’s office favorite person, much less the police department. She was worried about how her colleagues were going to see her, she wanted advice on how to deal with interoffice conflict.”

“Oh, don’t pull that. The only thing she was worried about was how quickly she could get your hands up her skirt.” The words burned your throat, emerging into the air before you could stop yourself. You knew Rafael wasn’t a stupid man, and you didn’t want him to treat you like you were either.

“Excuse me?” Rafael’s eyes hardened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as you took a step back from him. Your outburst had gained the attention of a passerby who gave the two of you a quick once over, and it only stoked your anger and shame. Rafael guided you with the motion of his hand towards the side of the sidewalk. “Look, I didn’t mean to abandon you, I’m sorry. I was only being polite to a woman who is going through what might be the worst time of her life. She needed someone to reassure her, to ask about her options-”

“So she had to wait until your girlfriend left to ask you about all of that? I’m not naive, you know. I see how women look at you, the looks they have when they realize you’re with me, like you’re settling for something that’s so beneath you. That they could give you something hotter, younger-”

“Stop! Just stop!” He ran a hand across his face, his expression softening as he saw the hurt on your face, the insecurity he thought the two of you had quelled long ago. “We’ve talked about this, I thought we had dealt with this. You are the only one I want to be with. The only one that I want to see in my bed in the mornings or bringing me coffee for lunch or watching tv in my old t-shirts. It’s only you.”

Shame and anxiety still burned deep in your blood as you felt burning behind your eyes. The anger had fizzled like a campfire under rain, replaced with humiliation settling deep into your stomach. A few tears wet the side of your face, and you avoided what you hoped wasn’t pity on Rafael’s face. “I’m sorry, I know that. I just- I just lost my temper and-”

“Look, I only want you. I want you to know that I only want you.” He brushed away the wetness from your cheekbone with a reassuring smile. He pressed a fleeting kiss to the side of your head as he pulled you into his chest, stroking a heavy hand between your shoulder blades. His woody cologne mingled with the salt of your tears, wrapping around you in comfort.“Let’s take a cab, forget about this bar. If you’re still doubting the way I feel about you, I clearly didn’t get my point across last time.”

You pulled back with a surprised laugh, tightening your grip on the sides of Rafael’s neck. A new heat flushed to your face with the intrigue in Rafael’s eyes, your ego stoked that he still found you desirable in the messy state that you were in. You leaned up, capturing his lips in an impassioned kiss, letting the feel of his stubble and the grip of his fingers wash over you like a wave. A shiver ran through your limbs to your fingertips, goosebumps rising as you felt the edge of his teeth against your lips. A heated gasp went through you as your back hit the nearby wall, feeling the solid line of Rafael’s body slot between your legs and against your chest.

“Let me bring you home, show you exactly how much I want you. Please, hermosa, let me.” His voice was thick and had an edge of desperation that shot heat through your entire body, igniting every edge of your nerves with the brush of his lips to your neck.The lick of power that ran through you at having this man, so powerful and beautiful and respected, begging for the opportunity to bed you sent you reeling. With a nod, you pulled Rafael to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, his hand gripping your waist.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d spent the majority of the cab ride from the bar stroking your thumb on the inside of Rafael’s knee, taking long moments to let your eyes linger on the clenching of his strong hands, the swell of his powerful chest beneath his vest, the slow darkening of his eyes with arousal as you raked your eyes over him. In the elevator ride up to your loft, his fingers trailed teasingly along the bottom of your sweater, sneaking underneath to rub at the skin of your hip with fleeting touches that ran heat up your spine and between your legs. You felt yourself wanting to push him back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, to go down to your knees and to hear your name echoing from his lips as you sucked him, but kept your face falsely neutral. This was part of the game, of him letting you know how much he wanted you, how he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You felt your face flush with the intimacy of the touches, his eyes glinting at your suppressed smile.

By the time you’d reached the entrance of your studio apartment, the buzz of your earlier tequila drinks had worn off in favor of the thrill of Rafael’s touch skating up under your shirt, fingers trailing beneath your clothed breast. As quickly as your jacket slid to the floor, your back was pressed solidly against the entryway wall, your hair pushed to the side to let your boyfriend suck slow kisses into the column of your throat. The nick of his teeth against the cord of your throat let a soft sound rise from your chest, your head falling back to knock against the wall.

Stepping away to remove his trenchcoat, Rafael took a brief moment to admire your panting frame, your cheeks flushed high with want and warmth. His tone was breathy, but serious as he hung up his jacket and vest.“You’re sure that you’re in the mood? I can always bring out some wine, put on that Bermuda Triangle documentary you’ve been wanting to watch.”

His words were sweet, but you could still see the heat burning in his eyes, even as he stood carefully away from you as he awaited your answer. You smiled as you stepped forward, fingers stroking the bulge in his black trousers, a rush of confidence coming from the deep groan he let into the air. “As lovely as that sounds, I think I’ll save that for after I ride you until the neighbors complain about the noise.”

“Your noises or mine, cariño?” He taunted as he pulled your sweater over your head, his hands finding your breasts with a delicate squeeze as you pulled him by the tie towards your bed in the further corner of your studio. His thumbs rubbed against the ridge of your nipple through the thin bra, your bitten lip barely containing your groan. His lips found yours again quickly, swallowing up the breathy noises you made.

“Why don’t we see who makes them come knocking first?” You grinned as pulled firmly at the back of his hair, letting a groan rumble against the seam of your lips. A swell of pride rose in your chest as you pushed Rafael back against the mattress, making quick work of his buttons as you let your ass fall firmly onto the bulge in his pants. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers indenting your pants with their firm hold. He brought his left hand between your thighs, letting his thumb rub idly against you through your pants as your movements on his buttons stuttered.

You steadied yourself against Rafael with a hand on his shoulder, rushing to remove your bra with the other hand to feel your skin against him. Your fingers stuttered over the clasp repeatedly, your head falling back at the pleasure that pooled between your legs. An easy smirk graced his handsome features at the stuttered breath you let in at the work of his fingers, sitting up at the waist to pull your breasts against his chest and rub between your legs more firmly. “Getting distracted over there, hermosa?”

The pet name brought a groan from your throat, wetness pooling in your cunt from his deep voice laced with arousal. Rafael’s pressed white button-up hung loosely off his shoulders, and you pushed the rest off with a renewed need to get your hands on his bare chest. His tan skin stretched over a strong chest and corded shoulders that held you firmly, dark chest hair brushed across your skin. You ran your hands down his pecs to run your nails across his stomach near the buckle of his belt, relishing in the shiver that ran through him.

Your tongue licked into his mouth with a moan, bringing one hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers through his salt and peppered hair while your hips moved against his covered cock. The hand over your pants faltered as he pulled away from your kiss, letting you get a look at his wide-blown pupils before he took his teeth to your neck with a moan.“Who’s distracted now, huh?”

You rolled to the side to shimmy out of your cotton pants, taking care to stretch your back to give Rafael a view of the curve of your ass as you turned. He pulled himself to the head of the bed, one hand stroking firmly against his hard cock over his trousers while he held the other near his kiss-swollen mouth. You felt a pang of wetness between your thighs at his lidded gaze, his eyes following each curve of your body like it was a melody he yearned to play. You leaned forward toward Rafael, your hair tumbling over the swell of your breasts as you climbed on top of him. His hands quickly moved back to slide along your body, one pinching your nipple while the other slid underneath the purple lace between your legs, dipping his fingers into the wetness there.

Rafael groaned as you ground your cunt against his hand, letting you seek your pleasure from his steady hand. The hand at your breast lowered to unbutton his trousers, his cock peeking from the edges of his dark briefs. “God, cariño, you're always so wet for me. You like my fingers on you?”

You stuttered out a breath as Rafael’s fingers dipped inside you, the palm of his hand rubbing gently against your clit as he stroked inside of you. The rolling pleasure from both areas of contact had sweat building on your chest, a moan coming high in your throat when you tried to answer. “F-fuck, yes, Raf, just like that. God…so good.”

Your breathy words spurred him on, adding another finger to your pussy. You gathered some composure, gripping your nails into Rafael’s shoulder with pleasure while your other hand went to stroke his thick cock. His rewarding moan was well worth the effort it took to keep a clear head as his fingers massaged inside you, bringing you rapidly to a crest of rising pleasure. Your legs shook even as you brought your hand up in a stroke, tightening your grip around the head in the way you knew made his eyes roll back. Precum dripped from the tip of his cock, slicking the way for your fingers to work faster, to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’ll be gone before I even get to fuck you.”

He groaned out your name as he flipped you onto your back, moving your hand from his cock as he moved his thumb to rub firm circles against your clit.You threw your head back in pleasure from his show of strength, his forearms and biceps flexing enticingly each time he drove his fingers into you. The fingers of Rafael’s other hand gripped your ass, bringing your hips up to his hand as he kissed his way down your neck and breasts. He murmured praises of ‘beautiful’ and ‘mine’ that made your blood soar, pleasure cresting low in your stomach as your breath quickened. Your moans pitched, your nails digging into Rafael’s shoulder letting him know you were close. He breathed out a few words of Spanish, letting his teeth sink hard into the junction of your neck as you reached your high. His name slipped loudly from your lips before you bit down on your lip, shaking in his arms as he continued to stroke you through your orgasm.

Your gaze was blurry with pleasurable tears when you faced Rafael, bringing his lips to yours in a messy kiss before sneaking off to the washroom for a glass of water. When you re-emerged from the bathroom with a half-drunk glass of water, Rafael was on his back with a hand wrapped lazily around himself, his cock jumping when he caught sight of your flushed face and the growing bruise on your neck. You crawled atop your boyfriend, letting the wetness of your release drag teasingly over the length of his cock. Rafael’s hair was tousled, strands hanging enticingly in front of his eyes as he gazed hungrily at your body. He looked delectable, sweat edging along the edges of his brow and his cock glistening when it peaked above his fingers. He looked at you like a parched man drinking in the sight of an oasis, like you were anything and everything he needed at that moment. You wanted to see just how far he would go to have you.

Testing your luck, you edged your fingers along the edges of Rafael’s arms, guiding them above his head. His eyes were curious as he followed your lead, raising his muscled arms above his head for you to wrap a hand around his wrists. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he readjusted himself as he raised a teasing eyebrow at you “Want to have me at your mercy, hermosa?”

What had started as a fleeting idea now struck a new wave of arousal over you as you gazed down at the powerful man underneath you, his eyes soft and filled with hot desire. God, he was everything you’d ever wanted presented beautifully between your legs, gazing at you like he wanted to devour you. An idea picked at the corner of your mind, sending a coy smile across your face as you draped your body over Rafael’s chest.

“Tell me.” Rafael looked at you with confusion now, readjusting his hands above his head. His tongue came out to wet his lips. He was usually the one making demands in bed, bending you to his will for both your pleasure. You felt it might be time to turn the tables. “Keep your hands there, and tell me you want to fuck me, only me.”

Your words were shakier than you’d wanted them to be, revealing your anxieties about taking control in this way for the first time. However, Rafael quickly relaxed under your touch, a new degree of interest entering his gaze at this undiscovered side of you. He looked you in the eyes as he groaned what you had asked. “God, I want to fuck you, more than anything.”

“I think you can do better than that.” You teased, licking a long stripe along the side of his neck up to his ear. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you were encouraged by the twitch of his cock against you as he gasped lightly. He looked up at you with a playful glimmer in his eye, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you asking me to beg?”

The words sent a blazing heat to your cunt, swallowing heavily at his words. Rafael’s eyes lit up in a similar way as when he was cross-examining someone in court, when they gave him the inch of leverage that he could stretch a mile. The proud look he got when he had someone exactly where he wanted them.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you cariño. Me, begging for your pussy like it’s the only thing I’ve ever needed in my life.” it was a statement more than a question, and fuck, the confidence he exuded even when he was under you like this had your head spinning with heady arousal. His words rumbled in your chest, urging another movement of your hips against his cock.

“Only if you want your cock inside me at any point tonight.” The words sounded hollow in your throat, undermined by the breathiness of your voice, you pressed against him again to quell off any embarrassment you felt. He grinned like he knew exactly what his words were doing to you, but let himself play the role you’d assigned him for now. If part of you wanted to try something, all of him wanted to comply, to fulfill your every desire.

“God, you look so beautiful like this. Please, please let me inside you. Let me get you off how I know you like hermosa. Please.” Even though you had a feeling he intentionally raised the whininess in his voice, the breathy tones still sent pangs of pleasure to your cunt. You gasped as the words left his mouth, pressing a desperate kiss to Rafael’s lips as you lined up his cock.

Your eyes slipped shut as you eased onto Rafael’s cock, the ridges of the head stroking the sweetest places inside of you that caused stuttered moans to fall from your lips. You ran the flat of your palm up Rafael’s chest, cupping the side of his cheek as you drove his cock into you. Rafael cursed as you seated yourself on his lap, your head thrown back in ecstasy at being filled, at being fucked. His hands shook above his head with the desire to touch you. He keened as you shifted his full length inside you, circling your hips to adjust to him.

You looked down at him between your thighs, flushed high on his cheeks with nothing capturing his attention but your body moving above him on his cock. Each swivel of your hips pushed his cock firmly into that spot that made you see stars and pushed deep, moaning praises from his throat. You reveled in the fact that no one else could see him like this, could make him moan and beg under them like this.

“God, everyone wants you like this and it’s just me that can have you. Just me that makes you feel this good, right baby? They all wish they could have your cock stretching them like this.” You babbled as your thoughts were overwhelmed with pleasure. You knew you sounded half mad, but you were too far gone to notice, relishing in the pleasure deep in your cunt.

“Fuck!” Rafael, moaned your name, finally moving his hands from above his head to bruisingly grab your hips. He raised his knees behind your back to gain leverage to roll his hips into you deep and steady, moans stuttering from your throat with every thrust that sent his cock deep inside you.

“So sexy, keep making those pretty noises for me, please.” Rafael’s words were near ravenous and you were glad you weren’t the only one overwhelmed with pleasure, desperately voicing every dirty thought that came to your mind when you looked at the man in front of you. Rafae’s grip along the curve of your waist allowed him to get the leverage to pull you down hard onto his cock

“Aah, fuck, please, Rafael, I-I’m gonna—d-don’t stop.” You didn’t know if you meant him pulling you down hard onto his cock or the filthy words that sent heat reeling through your body.

“God,” one of Rafael’s hands slid up to grasp your breast tightly, your nipple brushing the calloused skin of his fingers and had fire licking up your spine. His eyes were wild as he drank in the sight of you crying out on his cock, your fingers reaching to circle your clit as he pulled you against him. His tone was pinched and loud, ragged with his heavy breathing.“I want you to come, on my cock, right now. Please, cariño, give it to me.”

“Raf, God, you’re making me-fuck, yes” You felt tears brim the edge of your eyes as your pleasure climbed to something primal, each rub of your clit, every brush of Rafael’s hands against you setting you aflame until you felt yourself collapsing around him with a cry of his name. He slowed, but never stopped, his movements as he rocked you against him through your orgasm, soothing the shivers of your body with his warm hands. You panted as he came down from your second high of the night, your legs shook with the effort to remain upright.

“God, you’re killing me. Please, let me come inside you, fill you, I need-” you cracked your eyes to capture Rafael’s expression, lips parted around a moan when you moved your hands to grip at his hair. Hardly trusting your words, you nodded in your agreement with a whispered plea to ‘do it, please, come for me’. Rafael’s body went taut for a heartbeat, driving himself hard into a last few times as he came. His eyes clenched shut, his hands gripping your hips as he mumbled out praise.

Catching your breath, you rolled off of the bed to grab a towel, taking a moment to wipe yourself off before jumping back onto the moderately clean sheets, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend in his post-sex haze. This could be one of your favorite versions of Rafael, limbless and content, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as you regained your breath together. You pressed a kiss to his chest as you wrapped your arm around him, whatever insecurities you had been feeling before was long extinguished by the solidness of Rafael underneath you, his ragged breathing and the ache between your legs as proof of your mutual want.

You lay in silence for a few moments, his fingers carding through your hair before he spoke. He pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, stroking a soft hand across the back of your head. “Will you promise me that, next time you are feeling the way you did at the bar, you’ll let me know instead of storming off. That way, we can talk it through and maybe have a repeat of this, instead of you feeling awful because your mind likes to tell you lies.”

You gave a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth with your smiling lips. “Sounds like we’ve reached a deal, Counselor.”

He let out a rueful groan, pulling you tighter into his chest as you giggled. “Call me that again and I’ll be rescinding my offer.”

“Understood…Counselor.” you whispered, avoiding his playfully stern gaze by heading to the kitchen to get that wine he had promised you.

#law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #raul esparza #venus writes

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euphoricimagination · 7 months

Text

Part 2: You finally enter the infamous project, meeting your new 'teammates' as you play your first match

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Mastelist

A letter has arrived into your household, the name Japan Football Union on the front of it, with the details about the whole Blue Lock project you had agreed on.

By now you had already cut your hair into a more boyish cut, had been provided with the necessary stuff to hide your chest and a good backstory in case someone saw you with it on. And while you didn't look exactly like a boy, it was good enough to fool people.

You're now inside of the Japanese Football Union building, a bunch of boys already there when you entered. You shouldn't have worried that much, there are some here that were more on the pretty side rather than masculine.

"Congratulations, you unpolished lumps of talent, according to my judgment, the 300 of you are the best strikers under 18" Ego starts saying, making you scoff at how theatrical he was being. A pair of purple eyes look in your direction, giving you an amused look at your bored expression

"What, bored already?" He asks you, making his white haired friend look at you too

"He talks too much" you answered vaguely enough, as Ego starts debating with one of the participants. The purple hair dude chuckles while the white hair one just looks at you

"That I can't deny. I'm Mikage Reo, this is Nagi Seishiro, who are you?" He asks you

"Yn" you say simply, bowing slightly. THE Mikage Reo? The son of the biggest corporation in Japan?

"Isn't that a girls name?" Reo asks again, lifting his eyebrow

"My parents liked the name too much to give it up, i guess" you shrugged your shoulders just on time as a dude with black hair starts running towards the door, a bunch of them following right behind. You look at Ego, who had a creepy smile, and sigh "see you inside, i guess"

"Wait" Reo takes your arm "Don't tell you agree with that bastard?"

"Meh, it's better than nothing. You don't have to enter though, it's your decision after all" i say letting go of his hand, bowing slightly as i start walking away calmly. You can see Nagi trying to leave and Reo trying to convince him to stay as you pass down Ego.

"Keep an eye on him, that Isagi Yoichi has guts" Ego mutters as you pass him, making you nod.

When you enter Room Z there's already two people there, a sleeping one that had already changed and one with long red hair. You bow to the red hair one and move to your locker, wanting to change quickly before anyone else comes in

"What's that?" The red hair asks beside you, looking at your chest where the binder covered in some loose bandages was on "why are you wearing that?"

"I had some health problems, so I had to use this…" you say unaffected

"Really? Wouldn't this make it more difficult to breathe?" Asks curious

"I got used to it" you shrugged as you put the shirt on "What? Are you gonna judge me now?"

"Nah, just curious. I'm Chigiri Hyoma" he extends his hand, you took it and shake it, trying to look as confident as he did

"Yn, nice to meet you" you say and he nods, acknowledging you. You luckily finished changing when more boys started to arrive in the room, so you went to the wall to rest there until whatever Ego had planned starts. The last one to arrive was the same dude that entered first, Isagi Yoichi you presume.

After everyone is done changing, you hear the screen behind you start making noise, Ego appearing on the screen.

"Hi.hi. the others in your room are your roommates and your rivals who will push each other higher, I've already rank your abilities, that's the number you have in your uniform" he says, making everyone look at their arm sleeve, your number was the highest of the people near you "That ranking will change by the day and will go up or down depending on training and games. Finally, those in the top five will unconditionally be registered for the u-20 world cup happening six months from now"

You look surprised just like everyone else in the room, you gotta give it to Ego, he had a great plan. And even though you probably won't be able to participate, it even makes your heart excited at that.

"Time for some tag" Ego announces as a ball drops down into a bald kid, who immediately goes after Isagi

"This is ridiculous, I can't see how this game is "Top Training", I'm only participating to prove him wrong" says Kira, the kinda famous kid.

Luckily for you, you just had to dodge here and there, the ball concentrating mostly on Isagi, the bald dude and Kira. At some point the dude that was sleeping, Bachira according to the prompter, sends the ball a little too long when Kira moves to a different side, coming straight to you. You sensed Isagi's will to change, his aura changing completely after he tried to go for Kira, so you took the ball and sent it to him with only mere seconds to spare.

POW!

The ball sounds against Kira's face as the time runs out, Isagi effectively eliminating him. So that's why Ego told you to keep an eye on him, he definitely had the spirit that Ego was looking for.

"Good work, you lumps of talent, results are everything here, now get our loser! Ryosuke Kira!" Ego says appearing on the TV again, making Kira go on a rampage about how useless all this games were "In blue lock everything is related to soccer, take a good look around, you mediocre elite"

"The size of the room is the same size as the penalty area, right?" you say out loud, making a few of the other players surprised as Ego confirms your words "after all, that's the space where strikers work the most"

"SO WHAT? I GET THE SIZE OF THE ROOM, BUT PLAYING TAG ISN'T SOCCER!" he screams at you, rage in his eyes

"I mean…to tag someone requires a great ability to aim and shoot, which is needed if you want to score" you continue adding, his face still furious as Ego continues explaining how he lost. He then leaves the room annoyed, making Isagi come to where you were

"Why? Why did you pass it to me? If i hadn't kicked it then you would have lost!!" He says to you

"But you wanted to kick it" you answered simply as an arm passes around your shoulder, Bachira joining in the conversation

"Yeah, your face said so!" Bachira says to Isagi, then turning to you "Nice cover, by the way, I didn't think he would move at the last second!"

"But.."

"Results are everything here, right? Then we won by trusting you!" Bachira says, making you nod

"Congratulations, you've passed the entrance test!" Ego says from the monitor "the eleven of you will share a common destiny, sometimes you'll cooperate, sometimes you'll betray each other, now you are blue lock Team Z"

+++

3 days have passed since that entrance test, and an intensive training is now in place. Luckily for you, you have managed to hide your body from them quite easily, you woke up a bit earlier to change clothes and went to have a quick bath when everyone else was in the dorms ready to sleep. You didn't know if you were that good of a liar or they were just oblivious.

You were running in the treadmill alongside Kunigami and Chigiri when you noticed Isagi practicing his jumps, so far everything you've seen him do has been…mediocre at best

"Huh? Why does Ego like him so much?" You mutter to yourself. The same day where Kira was eliminated Ego has called you briefly to his office, telling you one more time that you needed to see if Isagi Yoichi had the capabilities to become the best striker…so far you have nothing positive to report

"Eh? What did you say?" Kunigami answers breathing hardly, understandably considering you were running at almost 20 kph*

"Nothing, just cursing Ego" you say, receiving a light laugh from Kunigami

"You know, you're more athletic than i thought you'd be" Chigiri says now, talking for the first time

"Yeah, you have a tiny frame, I'm surprised how you can keep up with us" adds Kunigami, making you raise your eyebrow "no offense, of course"

"Whatever, you do realize that my rank is higher than both of you, right?" You say with a small smirk

"Eh?! You're right! How's that even possible?! You're smaller than me!"

"Don't know, figure it out yourself" you say raising the speed a tad more, making the two other boys groan in frustration "C'mon, you can't be this tired already, we still have like ten more minutes to reach the usual 90 ones of a match"

"You're a monster, Yn-kun, a monster" Kunigami says as he raise his speed too "but I'm not losing to you"

You planned on having dinner alone, around this time you didn't have much physical movement, so you could ditch the binder for a more relaxed way to hide your chest, however it didn't make you less paranoid. That's why you much rather eat alone, so you could avoid any questions in case anyone noticed, and things were going well until a small bumblebee decided to raid your meal

"Ehh?! You have curry? No fair" Bachira whines as he sits besides you, a plate with to rice and chicken sitting in front of him

"I didn't think we will have different meals just because of 1 level difference" you say

"I know, right? I want some curry too!!" He says looking at your plate with want

"Don't you dare to touch it" you warn him, making him whine loudly again. You sigh, slightly annoyed at the boy "fine, we can share, better?"

"Yay! Thanks Yn-kun!" He says taking some curry to his plate "you know, I noticed the other day that you wear some bandages around your chest, are you okay?" He asks, making you almost choke on your drink

"I am, I just had..some small health issues"

"Do you have a scar? Can I see-?!" He asks

"No!" You cut him quickly "No, it's…something I'm not comfortable sharing"

"Ahh, well okay, it's fine. I was just curious" he smiles as he continues eating, not pressing any further "then Yn-kun, why did you pass that ball to Isagi-kun? Why didn't you shoot yourself?"

"I just felt Isagi-kun aura, didn't you noticed? He was in the zone" you explained "Isn't that the same reason you wanted to pass to him too? Because you knew he was going to shoot no matter what?"

"Well, yeah. Passing it to him felt right, but of course Kira-Kun had to move too. Do you also hear a monster when you play?"

"A monster? No…i just play however it feels nice" that's definitely an interesting take, a monster? What kind of weird bunch did Ego invite?

"Well, I like your play style too! You're definitely one of the top players here, let's practice together one day!"

"Sure, one day" you say smiling at him as he continues eating

The next day Ego calls you to the main room, and basically explained what you already knew about the plan, how team Z was the worst one of the bunch and all that

"... Whoever is best at soccer here is king, if you want a nice life, then win and boost yourselves. Now let's begin blue lock first selection. It's a tournament for the 5 teams, after the final match, only the top 2 teams will be selected. It's a survival match"

The moment everyone heard this they started babbling about their positions, everyone here was a forward, and now suddenly they had to play different positions if they wanted to survive and become the best striker. As Ego finishes talking everyone is left in a confusing state, will anyone even want to give up being a forward? You knew you couldn't just take it, while you were a good player, your job here was to help them achieve that dream, you probably won't even last until the second selection anyway.

"So… rock, paper, scissors?" You ask first

"Yeah, that seems fai-"

"Ehh!? Why do you get to decide that?! We should do it by strength instead!"

"Raichi, stop. Yn-kun is right, rock, paper, scissors is the fairest way to decide" Kunigami says stopping Raichi, who just mumbles an agreement. Everyone just agrees, starting to play

"Oh, i won" says Isagi, you also won the second place, so you had an early choosing opportunity, and Bachira was third

"Okay, so Isagi-kun chooses first, then Yn-kun, and like that down the line" Kuon explain, he was like the captain of the team

"Then i want to be a forward" says Isagi, Kuon writing down the position as Raichi scoffs

"I'll be a defender then" you say boringly when you feel an arm around your shoulders

"Ehh? Yn-kun, you are one of the best players here, why would you be a defender?" Bachira asks you

"He's right, you have crazy speed, your stamina is good too, you should be at least a right winger" as Kunigami "it wouldn't make sense if you are a defen-"

"Eh?! Are you looking down on us, you small fry?!" Raichi says to you, making you roll your eyes

"Well, I'll put Yn-kun as a right winger then" says Kuon, writing down your name in the notebook

"That's good! I'll be the other forward to then!" Bachira keeps the conversation going, with the other players ranting about how the good positions were already taken. It surprised you, honestly, you knew you were a good player in comparison to the rest of the girls, since you used to only play with boys growing up, but being considered an equal to these much taller and muscular dudes was something you never even tried to imagine.

Finally the match was about to start, you were putting the vest on.

"Isagi-kun won a chose to be center forward so let's focus our strategy around him" Kuon remind you

"Yeah" both you and Bachira answer, making you smile at each other. Bachira has been the one member you got closer the fastest

"Isagi-kun" you call him when you notice him thinking "relax, you can only go higher from here"

"Yeah, thanks" Isagi says

"We just have to win, right? Easy" Raichi says stretching

The match was against team X, one dude with spiked hair was the only one that grabbed the attention out of all.

The match starts with Bachira passing to Isagi; however, even before he was able to confront the other team, Raichi took the ball for himself, and before anyone could react, everyone was trying to get the ball to themselves. To be expected really, after the whole talk about having to be egoist to be a proper striker nobody would have just…obey. Everything was chaos until the one dude from Team X, Barou if you heard correctly by the cheers, took the ball and made a goal by himself.

Not one, not two, but five goals. Team Z was losing 5 to 0.

"Ahh we're just running in circles" Bachira says looking at the clock "there's no way we can get five points in 3 minutes..but"

"We can at least get one" you say, making Bachira look at you knowingly before looking at Isagi

"Yeah, the 3 of us can recover at least one, wanna try, Isagi-kun?"

"...Yeah"

"Bachira-kun and I will draw the attention, you shoot Isagi-kun" you say with Bachira nodding as he says, your job was to bring out the talent of the players, so that's what you'll do.

"Run, Isagi, we'll meet in front of the goal"

With that Bachira passes to Isagi, who passes almost immediately to you so you could start moving. You were able to pass one doing a nutmeg, passing the ball unexpectedly through his legs, while passing another one by just running a bit faster right before passing back to Bachira, who also passes three dudes before sending it to Isagi.

Isagi manages to get close to the goal; however the number 10 of Team X, Barou, cuts him off from scoring. You run towards the goal yourself when that happens, making the other team mark you as well, when suddenly the ball comes into your field of view, Isagi has passed the ball for you to shoot.

You instinctively take the ball, and despite having a good 70 meters between you and the goal, you do a powerful shot and make the first and only goal for team Z.

And despite absolutely being demolished by the other team, despite the sudden pass, despite mot being able to breathe properly because of your binder, despite that the only reason you were even here was to help the others score, you couldn't help to feel the need for more, to score again and again, to become better even when you were not supposed to.

"Hey! Yn-kun! Nice goal!" Says Bachira to you as you walk towards the lockers, giving you a high five

"Yeah, you were amazing Yn-kun" adds Isagi, giving you another high five

"Thanks Isagi, Bachira. But why did you pass to me? Was it because of that dude?" You ask Isagi

"I don't know how to explain it, it was unconscious, you just seemed with more opportunity to score"

He says a bit down as you enter the lockers, moving to sit down with a towel on his head while you clean your sweat with a towel. You ignored the rest of the team as they fought, an unconscious pass? Could it be that he's a natural playmaker? If he doesn't know why he passed the ball then that's the most likely reason why.

"... We're one loss away from the end!" You hear Kuon say, making the rest question him whether he had some plan or not

"Well" you hear Kunigami say "that goal that Yn-kun made couldn't have been done without Bachira and Isagi, right?

"Yeah, I'm sure we can come up with something if we start with that" you add as Raichi starts yelling again. You were still breathing hard when you noticed Bachira naked in front of everyone, so you ignored him hoping that your face wouldn't blush.

You kept ignoring the rest of the team as you focused on your body, your chest was hurting, but that was to be expected considering that you ran for 45 minutes without being able to have a full breath. You thought that your practice was more than enough, but clearly things were different on a real match

"I don't think everything that Ego is saying is true" Chigiri says going to the refrigerator, throwing you a drink as he took one for himself "I mean, he said this is to win the world cup and he was talking about world-class strikers like Ronaldo, Messi, and Cantona, but not all of them have won the world cup, but he did say ‘this is a battle to rebuild soccer from zero’. I think that might be some kind of hint"

"Oi, are you okay?" You hear Kunigami ask you

"Yeah, I'm fine" you say gaining your breath properly

"Why don't you just take off that chest thing you use?" Asks Chigiri, making Kunigami look at both of you confused

"I…I can't, I just need to get used to it" you say as you drink the energy drink "it'll take a few more matches though"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you did good today Yn-kun, that was a good goal"

And before you could answer Kunigami the TV behind you starts sounding, Ego appearing on it.

"Howdy, you lumps of talent, the second match of wing 5 has already finished. Team V crushed Team Y 8-0 so here are the current standing"

He then proceeds to explain how soccer works, why he wants this new revolution of soccer to happen and how strikers are the ones that can make this revolution happen. As you hear him talk you couldn't help to think how crazy this whole plan was, even though you pretty much heard everything he was saying once you agreed to do this.

"ACHIEVING THE REVOLUTION KNOWN AS A ‘GOAL’ CAN ONLY BE DONE WITH YOUR OWN WEAPONS!!"

Weapons, huh? That makes sense, if these boys don't know how to properly use and improve their talents, weapons as Ego called them, they won't get too far either here or in their soccer career.

"Yn-kun, we're gonna go shower, you coming?" Asks Kunigami as he and Chigiri stand up and start taking their clothes off, you really have to adapt to this fast if you don't want to stand out.

"Not yet, I wanted to get some practice done first, go ahead" you say as you stand up stretching

"Okay, don't overexert yourself" Chigiri adds as they both leave. You exchange some words with both Bachira and Isagi until you part ways, them going to the dorm while you waste time until all of them leave the bathroom area so you could shower at peace.

You were walking towards the practice area when you noticed Anri standing in the door, visibly waiting for someone

"Yn-chan, thank God you're here fast" she tells you when you approach her "Ego wants a reunion with you, let's go, you can wash up yourself there too, there's a private bathroom"

"Okay, what for though?"

"Not sure, but it's Ego we're talking about here"

She leads you to the apartment Ego was living in, a few floors above where the project was happening. You loosen up your binder on the way there, now being able to breathe properly until you have to face your team again.

"Yn-chan, come in, come in" Ego says as he starts preparing some ramen. You sit down on the table waiting for him when your stomach rumbles too "Anri-chan make her something"

"You could ask nicely, you know?" The woman says making you a bowl of ramen too "This is all he eats, Yn-chan, sorry it can't be more filling"

"It's alright, it's a nice change from curry" you says smiling at the woman as she sets the bowl in front of you, already ready. You don't really think twice as you start to dig in, Ego looking at you as he eats himself.

"So Yn-chan, nice goal back there" he says with a tone that left you wondering if it was a compliment or not "Although i would have much rather to see someone else scoring"

"Ego-san!"

"It's alright Anri-san. Isagi-kun passed it to me, it would have been weird if i didn't try to shoot, wouldn't it? After all, you were the one doing the whole talk that you needed to be an egoist and make goals" you say grabbing more noodles, an unfazed look in your face

"True, but do you think that helped them?"

"Yeah, somewhat. Some of them are still trying to understand what you meant by creating soccer from 0, so i think the combo that Isagi-kun, Bachira-kun and I did is a good start for them" You say as you drink some of the soda that Anri passed you "Although admittedly I wasn't thinking any of that at the time, I just wanted to score"

"Well, if anything your ego will make others want to improve too. What do you think of Isagi-kun so far? He passed instead of trying to score after all"

"He said the pass was unintentional, that he just felt I could score at that time. He probably has some spacial awareness and he doesn't know it yet, not everyone can just make that decision in the middle of a game" you add, thinking back at the pass from Isagi, he clearly was trying to score instead

"Well, he sounds more like a mild fielder if that's the case, so he needs to figure out how to use it as a striker. Help him find that out Yn-chan"

"Yes sir" says as you finish the food

"The rest seem to be in good shape, they just need to get used to this. Make sure to not lose again, Yn-chan, it's too early to leave"

"Yes sir" you say, however you can't help but wonder "Sir…why do you want me to help Team Z so badly?"

"Because I can sense that some of them can become amazing once they wake up, but they lack someone in the team that can help them get that instinct and nurture it. That's it"

"I thought you'd want them to figure it out in their own"

"And they still have to do that, you just need to give them some hints. You may leave now" you stand up and bow as Anri passes you a towel and some clothes before pointing where the private bathroom was.

"Ego-san, are you sure this was a good idea?" Anri asks Ego once both of them are alone. Ego smiles as he checks the recordings in his TV's from the goal you made and the faces of your teammates

"I'm sure that she can make this diamonds in the rough bloom" he focuses on Isagi face, smiling in excitement "she'll make sure to do it"

193 notes · View notes

littleadaline · 2 months

Text

I Didn’t Know Where Else To Go [P.G6]

Warnings: Reader is unwell?? Angsty on the readers side??

Word count: 2.03k

A/N: wrote this while dealing with stomach flu, so it may be inconsistent or unpolished, sorry about it!!

A/N: Ramadan Kareem to all who partake in it!! May this Ramadan heal our hearts and bring our souls some much needed peace xx.

———————————————————

18:00

You had just gotten off the phone with the agency you had landed an internship with. After countless interviews and days of going back and forth to establish a schedule, you had finally received the green light for your internship. Grabbing your cat in your arms, you twirled around, letting a shriek of excitement.

“We did it Lucía!!” The ping of your phone stole your attention. It was Aurora.

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Any news about the internship? I got a response for mine!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

OMG RORO I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT 😭 HBUUU?

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

ENHORABUENA AMIGA!! I GOT MINE AS WELL!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AURORA! I can’t wait for us to celebrate xx Is tonight any good??

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Me too! Tonight is no good :( How about tomorrow?? I’ll ask Gavi to drop me off after his physiotherapy appointment.

Your face soured at the mention of Pablo. Pablo Páez Gavira was your friend’s little brother, and despite being the same age and having similar interests, you guys hated each other. You were always bickering, exchanging snarky and sarcastic remarks about one another. Pablo’s parents were deranged by their son’s behaviour, but Aurora saw something beyond the sarcasm and lack of agreement. She often teased the two of you, pushing you to at least pretend to like each other.

“If you end up even getting along with each other, you each owe me 20€.”

“Never.” Pablo responded, shooting the basket ball into the net.

19:00

In need to contain your excitement, you put on your shoes and left the house for a walk. Strolling around the neighbourhood, you admired the early sightings of springs; people keeping their windows open, the sound of music escaping onto the streets. The smell of dinner was not unfamiliar to your nose. You realized were near Pablo’s neighbourhood when you heard the ping of your email. The smile you had harboured for the last hour was quickly wiped away as you read the title of the email.

[Termination of your internship]

Dear Y/N Y/LN,

It has been brought to our attention by our hiring committee that it will be impossible for us to accommodate your personal schedule into the internship schedule. As such, due to the late application date and your uncooperative schedule, we are forced to rescind our offer for the internship. We wish you the best in your academic and professional career,

The Agency.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Uncooperative schedule”? You knew your schedule was rather complicated, but at no point was the hiring committee bothered by it…nor had they said something either. You and the agency knew the weight this internship held for your final project this semester. If you couldn’t land an internship, you wouldn’t be able to hand in a project, and you’d automatically fail the class. Failing the class would mean you wouldn’t obtain your degree and your graduation would be delayed by a year as this class was only given during the winter. Something wet rolled from your cheeks and onto your phone screen. You didn’t know if it was tears or rain. You let your back slide against the street wall, an uneasy feeling taking over. You were hyperventilating, a million thoughts rolling in. Unable to think clearly, you ran to the only address you knew in this neighbourhood. Making it to the front of the house, you pounded at the door.

“Pablo? Pablo are you here? Please! Anyone?” You begged, sliding your body down the door as you cried uncontrollably. Your body was soaked from the rain, shivering as the wet clothes clang to you. 3 minutes had passed before rapid footsteps were heard and the door was opened in a hurry. You didn’t have the time to turn to look at whoever had opened the door before a pair of arms dragged you inside.

“Who’s that?” Pablo’s mom said, running into the entrance, apron still on.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Hey, hey, deep breaths. Look at me.” Aurora said, taking off your coat and shoes. Your chest was falling and rising at an alarming rate. Your sight was hazy as you fought tears.

“She’s freezing.” You felt Pablo’s mom dragging you to the bathroom upstairs, tears still streaming down your face. You were unable to stop. Aurora was behind you, frantically removing your soaked clothes. Pablo was following, still perplexed as to what had brought you to his house.

“I’ve got it from here,” Aurora held her hand in front of Pablo’s face. “Go get some towels and put them in the dryer for 10 minutes. Pablo do as I say or so help me God you won’t live to see another day. Now is not the time for your rivalry.” Aurora scolded her brother.

Pablo bit back his tongue, swallowing the comments he had. He obliged, rapidly jogging to his laundry closet before grabbing his fluffiest towels, and chucking them in the dryer. No matter how far back your rivalry went, he couldn’t help but feel worried about you. Your soaked clothes clinging to you, your face covered in a mixture of rain and tears, your sudden zombie-like state.

“Pablo? The dryer’s been done for 2 minutes now.” His dad’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He grabbed the towels and ran upstairs before softly knocking on the bathroom door. The door opened slightly, enough for him to peak at your slumped figure on the bathroom floor, still stuck in a zombie-like state. You were left in your bra and underwear as Aurora and her mom worked tirelessly to calm you down. Pablo’s heart broke at the sight of you. He just wanted to take away that pain.

“How’s she-”, he mustered up to say before the door closed back on his face.

“Vale, hija, respira.” Pablo heard his mom softly say from behind the door. Defeated, he walked back to his room and rummaged through his drawers. As fun as the rivalry was, the current sight made him want to burn the entire world. He dug through his clothes until he pulled a matching sweatpants and sweater set. He put the set in a basket, heading to the guest room where he grabbed the fluffy socks he kept. He grabbed those before heading down to his laundry room and putting them in the dryer to warm them up. While waiting for the dryer to finish, he walked back to the kitchen where he poured you a bowl of soup, previously made with care by his mother, and boiled some water for tea. The dryer had been done for a few minutes now when he heard the sound of the bathroom door open. He ran, skipping steps, to hand the clothes to his sister. Aurora took the clothes without hesitation, simply thinking Pablo for his actions. Gavi knew you were soon going to come out of the bathroom, so he left the food and tea on the guest bedside table. Soon enough, Aurora helped you get in bed. You had regained some colour, your hair now clean and in a braid. You were wearing the set Gavi had warmed up, the clothes baggily hanging around your body. Gavi’s inner self breathed a sight of relief seeing you settled in bed, a more peaceful look on your face.

“I’m gonna help mamá clean up the bathroom. Make sure she stays warm and at least drinks the tea or eats the soup.” She patted him on the back before closing the door behind her. Gavi simply nodded, feeling the need for rivalry fading away.

“Vale…” Gavi awkwardly sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want the tea?”

“Did you poison it Gavira?”

Gavi chuckled, taking your sarcasm as a sign of wellness.

“No, I didn’t. Tea or soup?” He tried to sound annoyed, but his newly found care for you betrayed him.

“Soup smells delicious. I could recognize your mom’s soup from miles away.” You laughed weakly.

Gavi grabbed the tray with the bowl of soup and approached the bed. He sat on the corner before bringing a spoonful to your lips.

“Mhhh…” you moaned in delight. “Gimme more.” You felt your body slowly regaining its strength. You sat up on the bed, Gavi feeding you one more spoonful of soup.

“Y/N, what happened? You had us all scared.” Pablo confessed, setting aside the bowl of soup.

You sighed, debating telling your newfound friend the truth.

“I…um. You know that class Aurora and I are taking? The one where we need to intern with a company related to the theme assigned to us? Well, if we don’t land an interview by the deadline, we automatically fail the class. And up until,” you checked your phone. “2 hours ago, I had an internship. Until I received an email telling me that they had to rescind their internship offer due to schedule issues. And if I don’t pass this class, I have to wait a whole year to retake the class. Which also means my graduation is delayed.”

“I don’t get it… How could they do this?” Gavi angrily asked. “What theme were you assigned?”

“Gavi… I’m not sure you can help in this situation…” Gavi’s eyes pierced through yours, desperately trying to uncover your secret. He had this kindness in his eyes, something you had never noticed before…. Maybe because you were too busy being at each other’s throats.

“What theme were you assigned?” He asked a second time.

“Media in sports…”

“You’re doing it with us and that’s final. I’ll contact the media department first thing in the morning. They don’t have any interns for this term, they should be able to accommodate you. I may have to twist Xavi’s arm for this, and sprinkle in some emotional manipulation, but you know the mister, he can’t say no to these puppy eyes.” He bragged.

Gavi fed you a new spoonful of soup, slowly taking more space on the bed.

“What brought you here?”

You almost chocked on your soup, the brutality of Gavi’s question taking you by surprise.

“Oye Gavira, are you trying to kill me with your brutal questions?” You heard Gavi laugh, something you never dreamed you’d be able to hear coming from him. “Since you want to know, I went on a walk to contain the excitement of the news, and I made it to your neighbourhood when I received the email. I guess my instinct just kicked in, and I ran to your house. I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…” you said, defeated.

You heard Gavi put down the bowl on the tray before he shuffled closer, pulling you into a hug. Shocked, you simply laid there, your arms laid on your side. Your body turned on auto-pilot and you hugged him back. You didn’t know Gavi was capable of such signs of affection, especially not with someone he’s been bickering with for the last decade. On the other side of the interaction, Gavi’s mind was rolling at 200 km/h. *What are you doing cabrón? You’re supposed to hate each other. Let her go! Push her away! Wait, this feels natural, almost meant to be…*

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. Aurora was boasting about how happy she was you obtained the internship with this agency. I can’t imagine how it must feel.” He whispered. You both stayed in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again. “You look tired, do you want me to leave?” He slowly got off the bed, but you pulled him right back down.

“Stay. Your presence is somewhat comforting. I don’t know what your mom put in this soup, Gavira, but it’s making you less… annoying.”You sighed, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. You heard Gavi laugh, a low but subtle chuckle, and smiled to yourself. Gavi was lying on his back, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Can I… Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked him, your voice growing shy at the request.

Gavi was slightly taken aback, but nonetheless nodded, his heart fluttering at the thought of you being so close to him. He heard the sheets shuffle before he felt your head snuggle in on his chest. He swore right away in this moment that he was done with the animosity, the backbiting, the jokes. He was going to let you in. He was going to properly love you. He was going to cherish you. And in that split second, he realized he owed Aurora 20€, not that he minded anymore.

“Sleep tight nena.” Gavi’s hand found your hair, slowly stroking it.

#fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi x yn #gavi one shot #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pedri #ferran torres #fermin lopez #la masia #Barcelona #gavi

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foreststranger · 9 months

Text

BLADE - There’s A Major Problem: I

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(ꜱ) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ you’re dragging around a dead body lol

ꜱᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ 『honkai: star rail』blade x gn!reader ft. silver wolf and kafka as emotional support

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ a kinda (barely) angsty-hurty/comfort-maybe-ish-sorta (?) unpolished short-tiny-small-lazy fic where blade dies so you gotta drag him back home and wait for him to heal himself back to life or wtv

𑁍 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.9k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

↳ this is based on a dream i had abt him lol anyway i have like 5 diff fics i’m writing and i have only this one finished lmfaooo anyway anyway i also wanted to say sorry for not posting anything in 10 whole days i’ve been a little unmotivated but i’m not gonna be posting for a bit as i’ll be having some family members visiting and unfortunately they speak english and might catch me writing these… HSR x reader fanfics are not something i’d like them to know i write 😍😍 ANYWAY ANYWAY ANYWAY THEY’RE COMING TODAY SO I DECIDED TO CUT THE FIC SHORT MAYBE I’LL CONTINUE IT SOON THOUGH

“Blade, I promise. I’ll always be there to clean you up and take care of you when you’re hurt.”

It feels like years since you made that promise to him. And you regret it. You didn’t know what you were getting into by involving yourself with this man. Blood soaks into your shirt as you look down at him. He’s definitely dead. While you knew of his immortality and regenerative abilities, you can’t help but be a little worried. What if… he doesn’t wake up this time? Blade would certainly want that, but you’re not sure what you’d do without him. His features are soft in the gentle starlight, and he looks… at peace. The only other times you could see him like this were when he was sleeping. After a few more minutes of just admiring him, you remember what you’re supposed to be doing. Your hands grab him from under his arms, pulling him along the cold ground, huffing as you do so.

“Why did you have to go get yourself killed…” you mutter to yourself. Blade is far too heavy for you to carry, so you’re forced to drag him around instead. Even then, it’s a demanding task. Your home was still around a couple of kilometres (roughly a mile) away. You felt like a murderer, bringing around the bloodied body and leaving trails of blood. How were you meant to go back to your neighbourhood like this? Your clothes and hands soaked in scarlet fluid, a dead man in your arms. Under the cover of night, perhaps no one would notice. You grunt as you hoist Blade up a few steps of stairs. Walking backwards, you don’t realize that you’re about to walk into a wall. Until you bump against it, of course.

You crash down to the floor, a piercing pain attacking your skull. Leaning against the wall, you try to lift Blade onto your lap. The effort of lugging him around and the throbbing pain in your head leave you huffing for air. You wipe your crimson hands on your thighs before hugging Blade against you.

“Do you have to be so reckless, Blade…?” You shut your eyes tight, trying in vain to block out the headache. “How am I meant to take care of you…” You hold him close, your face pressing into his back and his dark raven hair.

“I made a promise to you. So, now… I have to take you back home. Try to make this easy for me, okay?” His familiar scent filling your lungs is almost enough to make you completely forget that he’s a corpse as of now. Blood pools around you, soaking almost every inch of fabric covering you. Is it normal for someone to have this much blood? You can’t even tell where it’s coming from, seeming to just flow out of him.

“I love you…” you whisper, planting a gentle kiss on his head. Closing your eyes again, you try to catch your breath before having to drag him off again. When you finally decide to get up, the light of the stars seems to illuminate a path for you, leading the way home. Maybe that’s why they call it Stargazer Navalia.

After a few more minutes of struggling, your pocket buzzes. You’d forgotten that you were keeping Blade’s phone on you. Quickly reaching for the phone, you realize that it could only be one of the Stellaron Hunters.

You put the phone down and breathe out. Both at Silver Wolf’s ridiculousness and in relief that you won’t have to lug around Blade alone anymore. ‘Dear beloved one and only’ is a huge stretch. Though, it was a little nice for her to recognize your… relationship. The Stellaron Hunters were almost like your in-laws, after all.

“Blade? We’re gonna be home soon. Kafka said she’d come help me out.” You can’t help but let out a little chuckle. “I’m so helpless… I can’t even bring you back by myself. At least you’ll be safe soon, though. You’ll be in bed and awake before you know it, Bladie.”

He hated that nickname — saying it reminded him of someone he’d rather not associate with you — but you couldn’t help but call him it sometimes.

Knowing that Kafka is on her way, you decided to settle down for a little and wait for her. But before you can even sit, Blade’s phone vibrates with another notification.

ask before translating, taking inspo from (not copy), reposting, etc. my work. remember to credit me and if you’re taking inspo from it, please @ me as I’d like to see what you do with my ideas!

#blade honkai #honkai: star rail #honkai star rail #blade x you #blade x reader #/e dance3 #grrr i love indulgent self insert fics so much I can’t stop writing them #.forestfics ☆

150 notes · View notes

slashy-hanako · 3 months

Text

Dead by Daylight Killers Being Jealous

Reader insert, no use of Y/N, gender neutral.

This is my first time writing on this account, I hope you like it.

Characters included: Anna (Huntress), Caleb Quinn (Deathslinger), Danny Johnson (Ghostface).

☠Warnings: Blood and gore, strong language, sexual themes.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

♥ Anna - The Huntress ♥

Such an athletic and skillful woman would prove to be a great challenge for anyone looking to reach your heart. Behind the mask, there is a face marked by war and famine but still beautiful with its modest charm. Anna is a territorial lover, you are hers and anyone who crosses the line she sets will meet her hatchets. She is violent with her impulses, you would have to stop her from acting upon simple interactions you might have with friends, such as friendly hugs or hand-shakes. Anna does not try to hide her feelings, it will take a good time to educate her about the boundaries of what is appropriate, and even if she loosens her grip on you a little she will still overreact if she sees someone actively flirting with you.

It was a cold evening, you found yourself shaking even near the campfire, your body trembled and your skin arched in response to the chilling wind biting through your defenses, even with a coat the fog seemed to swallow all the heat from the surroundings. You could not bear it any longer and indulged in the request of a survivor to keep you warm, lying by their side so they could wrap their arms around your frame. You knew they liked you, and it felt terribly wrong to allow them to be this close just because you needed it, still you ignored the thoughts and closed your eyes. You felt warm and were finally able to sleep.

As the hours passed, your slumber was interrupted by the feeling of strong hands holding your waist, it was not like the other survivor who had kept you warm through the night, it was different. You felt the hot breath of the broad figure behind you, so close to your neck, the voice that hummed a lullaby was the familiar one of the Huntress. You were shocked, wondering how she got there, but you remained silent as she embraced you tightly and placed a leg over you, you were being squeezed and it was all the warmth you ever needed.

When she left, after you had proper rest, the camp was empty; she had scared all the other survivors, luckily violence was not allowed outside of trials, but she would sharpen her hatchets to focus on a certain someone who dared to take advantage of your vulnerability.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

♥ Caleb Quinn - The Deathslinger ♥

Caleb was a rough man, unpolished and disheveled all around, he never felt confident about his appearance, or his age, or his personality; he didn’t have much during his life, and his passions had been stolen from him, but not anymore. He is not one to express it loudly, it is difficult to read his deadpan expression, but when his left eye twitches and he clenches his teeth it is because something is bothering him.

He might pin you against a wall and be direct with his questions about what is happening, Caleb is blunt like a mace and too anxious to allow the possibility of someone taking you from him, and when he gets a name things will be complicated.

It was not unusual for relationships to blossom amidst survivors, the time in the entity’s realm would go so slowly sometimes that having another human to hold was what kept one from snapping. You had seen a certain someone stealing glances at you, during the trials they would constantly follow you around and on occasion even pulled you with them inside a locker, claiming that it was to keep you safe. You had noticed those advances, but your heart belonged to someone else, and this someone had a dead aim.

It was a trial like any other, if not for the fact that the Slinger was not paying too much attention to you and the other two survivors, instead he would chase only one person, the same one who kept flirting with you every time you were together. You knew exactly what was happening, but you would not dare saying it in front of Caleb, if you accused him of being jealous he would be mad. Instead, you focused on doing the gens while he kept your friend on the ground, watching them crawl around like a slug.

The bounty-hunter would follow the miserable soul, his boots oftenly making contact with their body as he kicked them around and smirked, delighted with the cruelty and suffering. “If I see your hands on them again, I will make sure you can no longer use them.” He would mumble, piercing the back of the survivor with the spear of his marvelous weapon; Death to Shorebay, what a masterful piece of art that gun was, perfect for torture as the Deathslinger kept the harpoon stuck in the survivor’s body to drag them around until they bled out.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

♥ Danny Johnson - The Ghostface ♥

As an inquisitive spectator, Danny has watched survivors from far away, he had his moments of voyeurism and shameless photography while invading their privacy, be it inside or outside trials, after all there are no rules against making pin ups with pictures. But you were especially intriguing to him, you knew someone had been following you, leaving mysterious notes for you to read, mostly with strange questions and nonsensical observations; ‘What is your favorite horror movie?’ had been the start, followed by a note written in blood ‘You like a man with a knife?’, it was disturbing and you expected it to be a prank from one of the survivors, maybe someone was just having a good time laughing at how distressed you became.

But time worked its wonders and soon you dismissed these events as nothing but a hoax from your friends. You could sleep in peace, and it was during one of these moments of careless slumber that you were awakened by the feeling of gloved hands caressing your skin, groping, pinching, someone wanted to call your attention. When you opened your eyes, there was the sight of the Ghostface white mask, his hand covered your mouth so you would not scream, and he showed you his knife, running the tip of it delicately over your chest. Was he crazy? Killers were not allowed to do that outside of trials.

“Now keep your fucking mouth shut, darling.” He warned, caring little about the entity’s rules “I will not hurt you, at least not now.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, he was too close. “I saw you are getting close to that… What is their name…? Uh… I forgot.” He shook his head “I thought we had something, you know. I sent you so many letters and now you betray me, holding hands with that lame bag of flesh.” It made sense now, he was the one stalking you.

Danny was delusional for sure, he had lived too much inside his own head, with his sick fantasies and distaste for society in general. A man like him lived only to spread violence, chaos, he was an avatar of decay.

“I will give you one last chance, next time we meet, you bring them to me, and I will pretend this never happened.” Then he cleared his throat “If you don’t…” He pressed his left hand on your neck, the mist enveloped him, threatening to take him for punishment for crossing the lines, then his grip loosened “You are mine. Remember that.” He muttered, standing up and tossing a picture at you, before disappearing in the shadows.

The picture was a nice one of you in an intimate moment with someone else, but their head was cut from the picture.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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bakvrue · 10 months

Text

love makes me stronger

izuku midoriya x reader

after an incident in which you were captured, izuku comes to rescue you and in turn is forced to listen to a villain's monolog. will the villain be able to tug at izuku's heartstrings after all he's done? 1.1k

Your hands brace against the material now holding you hostage. It's hard and rough to the touch, almost like unpolished quartz, with a golden glow. Your fingernails scraping against it makes the hairs on your neck stand up, but the one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you can see through it; so that you can see him and know that he's alive.

Izuku kneels before the man who entombed you; blood drips down his face as he clutches his ribs, and you can tell by the way he's positioned his leg that there is something wrong with his ankle, but even if his body is bruised that look in his eyes never waivers.

He stares down the man in front of him. The man who burned down a hospital to steal you away in the chaos and who set an army of henchmen to 'clear up the stragglers.'

You can still feel the man's hand on your mouth from when he dragged you away, whispering in your ear, "This is all your fault you know, yours and his."

You didn't know what he meant then but the more he speaks the more you're able to peace together.

"The great Deku," he sneers, "Japan's savior, in fact, the world's savior. And what is he here for? As the city outside is being overrun?"

The man yanks Izuku’s hair, turning his head so that he can look directly at you. There's a falter in Izuku’s breathing when his eyes meet yours, and his gaze softens.

"You're here for the woman you love." The man's gangly voice cracks, "Pathetic."

Izuku's eyes flash with a dark murth as he straightens himself. "You said you wouldn't hurt her if I came. I'm here, so let her go." Izuku's voice is authoritative and so much unlike the voice that whispers into your ear late at night. It sends a shiver down your spine.

The man takes a few steps, pondering Izuku’s request. A hand on his chin his trenchcoat flaps against his legs.

He quickly turns on his heels, and makes a check with fingers. "No."

From the ground a prision of the same make as yours quickly snaps into place around Izuku. This must be his quirk.

Izuku starts to bang against the new walls around him until the man clicks his tongue. "I wouldn't do that if I was you, hero."

The man's fingers twist, and the walls around you start closing.

"NO! Stop!" Izuku yells.

You try to use strength against the walls to stop them but it does nothing until the man untwists his fingers. The walls then stabilize in their current condition.

"I was like you once, hero." There's hatred dripping from the man's every word. "Had someone I would have risked everything for, and they were taken from me! My partner was killed because you HERO'S don't care about anything but yourselves! All those years ago when you 'saved Japan,' when us evacuees we're supposed to be safe! When hundreds of us got stuck under the collapsing barrier, who did the heros save? Not them.

"My quirk wasn't strong enough then. I could barely hold two cells open, and they couldn't withstand the force they can now. I watched the hero's save their own while I was helpless to save mine!

"Do you know how that feels?" The man's voice raging against his vocal cords as he glares at Deku.

Izuku lifts his head, his eyes meeting the villains, shrouded by the hair sticking to his forehead. Izuku chooses to remain silent. He knows of loss, and pain, but this man's pain does not justify his crimes.

"Love is a burden. Even with love I wasn't strong enough, but without it? Look what I've done without love… the power I've amassed…" He pauses for a second before spinning to face Deku directly. "Love is weakness."

Izuku's nose flares and his fists ball at his sides.

The man flicks the wall between him and Izuku, "Let me destroy your weakness for you."

He twists his fingers and a panic jump starts your heart. The walls slowly start to close in on you, your breathing increasing in the small space making you light headed as you push on the walls.

Izuku winds his arm back and punches the wall in front of him. The orange glow pulses as it's hit, again and again.

The villain throws his head back and laughs, "That is unbreakable Mr. Hero. Not even diamonds can drill through it."

Izuku keeps punching, each time putting more and more energy into his punches as the walls around you become just an arms length wide.

"If you have any last words to your beloved, now would be the time to say them, dear hero."

The repetitive motion of his punches has been building Fa Jin and, even with his knuckles now bloodied, he punches again at one hundred percent.

The orange pulse from the punch’s impact ricochets through the walls, getting faster and faster until the walls burst.

"You're wrong." Izuku stands and takes a menacing step towards the man, who is now backing up slowly with shaky legs. "Love makes me stronger."

Izuku takes another step, and your walls stop moving.

"Release her."

Another step forward.

"Now."

The man's hands shake as he releases the walls around you, and you collapse gasping for air.

But Izuku isn't done.

"You have hurt and killed countless people, made them endure the suffering you did. We all lost people in that battle. You lost someone important to you and I'm sorry for that." With every word he gets closer to the man until he's backed him into a wall. "But. You. Are. Wrong. Love doesn't make you weak. Love is the reason you keep fighting."

The cowering man slips down the wall, crumpling into a blubbering sack.

Izuku looks to you before handcuffing the man, making sure you're okay before calling for backup.

He had to get the official hero duties out of the way before he got to you because he knew as soon as he did he wasn't going to let go for the next week.

With the phone call made, and other heroes on their way he finally lets himself run over to you. The injuries he sustained earlier are forgotten as he wraps his arms around you; the ribs, the ankle, all of it is fine now that he has you in his arms again.

And you hug him back, clutching at every piece of him. Making sure he's alright and alive, as he does the same to you. It's not until he hugs you and buries his face in your neck that you can feel his tears against your skin. You hold him tighter, as your own tears start to fall.

Love makes him stronger. Your love and belief in him. And it's the thought that echoes through your mind as other heros and first responders flood the scene. All of them moving around the two of you locked in this embrace.

#💕.izuku #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader

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seiueina · 10 months

Text

I couldn’t help but think what it would be like for the significant other of Ego Jinpachi…and how married life and parenting life would change drastically while he took more of his responsibility to the Blue Lock Project.

unfinished, not proofread, i’ve had this in the drafts for so long so i am deciding to just post it now :3

“Where is the stupid pass?” You utter as you scramble through your backpack, the backpack that was filled with a lot of things..things that are needed for the kiddos and needed for you. You always noted that you have to clean the backpack out at some point but with raising two children at the age of 4 almost entirely by yourself…is exhausting and you always forget to clean the bag out.

“Mommy I need to pee!!!” Your daughter, shouts just as you found the pass in order to enter the Blue Lock building. “Give me one second! Let me scan this real quick!” You exclaim as you hurriedly put the pass against the scanner, the scanner stays a red LED color, you gasph. Repeatedly putting the pass against the scanner.

‘Entry Denied’

At this point in the day, you we’re already overwhelmed. Taking your son to his soccer game early in the morning and then running home quickly because you forgot to pack your daughters ballet shoes…rushing then over to the dance studio and now ended up here. Unable to get through the door and to a bathroom in which your daughter (for some reason) needed so urgently all of a sudden. You stood there, the tears lining your waterline.

You wanted to let everything out. Cry, scream, shout, curse your husband out the moment you saw him. Years before this…it wasn’t like this. You wouldn’t have imagined your life to become of this. He promised you that he will split his attention from this Blue Lock Project and his family. But he didn’t live up to the promise.

You would go days without hearing a single thing from Jinpachi. Any and everything that you were updated about your husband was given from Anri. The woman who is working with your husband on this “stupid” project. You didn’t feel any remorse for her, you couldn’t bring yourself to even though at this point she’d seen and been in his presence longer than you have in 3 months. And including now…even more so you couldn’t hate Anri, especially when you hear her calling your name.

“y/N-sama!!!” She screams and your ear perks up. “I can’t get in!” You shout back, and she runs up to the door and puts her pass onto the scanner, it quickly lights up green and the door opens. “Mommy I need to go!” Yumi, your four year old daughter utterd again and you swiftly grab her from the ground and rush towards the sign with the restroom sign. Your son, Yuri, quickly following behind you. Luckily, you were able to get to the restroom and Yumi was able to go to the bathroom just in time before an accident occurred.

“Let’s go see your father.” You huffed before leaving the restroom and finding his office. The moment you got there, his eyes were glued on the many of many screens plastered on the wall. He didn’t bat an eye at the supposedly three important things in his life. “What did I say about knocking. Anri- I am”

“Jinpachi.” You exhaled, he turned his head around to see you standing near the door. Your children running around his office as you couldn’t care less about what they were up to in this moment. “Oh. y/N.” He breaths out before returning his head back to the many of many screens, all displaying each individual clips of the players.

“That’s all? Is this really what we mean to you?” You grumbled, walking closer and closer to your husbands desk chair. “Look at me Jinpachi.” You say as you turn his desk chair around. He now faced you.

“Why are you even here? Can’t you see, I am busy reviewing match clips of my unpolished gems.” He replies with a growing urge of annoyance. “So your more interested in these “unpolished gems” then those gems?” You shout, pointing over to the two children the both of you created, he looks over in the same direction then back at you.

“Watch your attitude when you’re talking to me. You’re the one who came here unannounced.” He scoffs standing up from his seat. The two of you were almost the exact same height, Ego only being one inch taller than you, he just barely towered over you, but with just enough space for him to sinisterly smile down at you. “Let’s get a divorce then.” You say, leaving him in utter shock as you go and grab the kiddos from the couch. “I am sorry for yelling.” You apologize to your children as you saw them with hands over their ears. “-C’mon, papa is busy with work…maybe one day he’ll want to see you!” Staying as optimistic as you could.

You were over it to say the least. Ego Jinpachi wasn’t the same man you fell in love with 10 years ago. He’s changed drastically and you can’t help but blame the JFU and this whole Blue Lock Project. With each kid holding your respective hands, you walk past your soon to be ex husband.

“Bye daddy!” Both kids cheerfully smiled and waved at him as the door to his office opened. There you startled Anri who was holding a laundry basket. “Ah! y/N! Leaving already?” She awkwardly laughs before looking up at you. “-No she isn’t.” Your husband blurts out. “Errand girl. Take Yuri and Yumi somewhere…I have an important conversation with my wife.” Jinpachi continues as Anri raises an eyebrow. Looking at your face.

“I guess I can take them to meet the players!” Anri whispers, you wanted to hear your husband speak to you…you didn’t know why. He could have given you his time a day a few seconds ago, so why now does he want to give it? You hand your kids over to Anri. “Okay babies, go with Anri-chan, she’s gonna show you guys all over while daddy and I have a talk!” You say cheerfully before sending them off on their way.

Once the doors to his office closed he quickly started, “You’re not divorcing me.” He speaks and you walk closer to him. “What if I am?” You reply, arms crossed over your chest.

“y/N. I am still in love with you.” He says looking at your face, seeing any type of reaction that’ll perform. “Really? Well it sure don’t look like it!” You exhaled, shuddering your shoulders he steps back, exhales a breath.

He stays quiet, standing in the same position. You rub your temples, "Exactly what I was thinking...am' gonna pack me and the kids stuff and stay at my parents until further notice. I'll contact the lawyer and they'll give you call." You speak aloud, hesitating to turn around and walk to the door just in case, maybe, he'll say something. But he doesn't.

“That’s what I thought…” Whispers came from your mouth as your waterline brimmed with tears as you turn around to exit Jinpachis' office.

#ִ ࣪𖤐 satoberrie #ִ ࣪𖤐 sumijade's writing #ego jinpachi #blue lock #bllk manga #bllk x you #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x y/n #bllk headcanons #bllk ego #jinpachi ego #ego jinpachi x reader #anime

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ambrossart · 1 year

Text

Post Prom - “The Morning After”

Summary: A deleted scene from the epilogue of Dancing with Myself. This is unpolished and unedited. I just wanted to share it because I love Wayne. 🥺 Warnings: language Word count: 1,573

Morning arrived a lot faster than you expected, the events of last night fading away like a pleasant dream. You woke up with a slight headache and smelled bacon sizzling on the stove.

Oh no, you thought, and felt your stomach churn with dread. You sat up on your elbow, expecting to find yourself trapped inside the painted walls of your own bedroom. Instead, you found yourself staring right into the piercing eyes of a frightening, fleshless monster, grinning at you with a mouth full of teeth. A quiet laugh escaped you and you smiled back. It wasn’t a dream. You were in Eddie’s house, in his room, in his bed, wearing his Megadeth shirt. You looked down at it and blushed. Then you felt a warm weight next to you and your blush deepened.

Shyly, you peeked over your shoulder and saw Eddie lying on his side, snoring softly with his face half hidden behind his forearm. He was still wearing the chain on his wrist, but his rings were resting on the nightstand beside him, all but one. He must have forgotten to take that one off.

A look of wonder consumed your face as you stared at him, your cheeks still burning with excitement. Admittedly, you felt a little silly getting all flustered over something as simple as this. Hours ago, you had this guy’s tongue in your mouth, but this—this totally innocent moment—had you blushing like a schoolgirl flipping through her anatomy book.

Silly as it was, somehow waking up next to him felt more intimate than anything you did last night. Honestly, you weren’t sure you would ever get used to it.

Outside, the clatter of dishes brought you crashing back to reality. You were in Eddie’s house, in his room, in his bed, wearing his Megadeth shirt… and his uncle was cooking breakfast for himself in the kitchen!

You slapped your hand over your mouth, smothering a yelp of panic. What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to face him like this? Good morning, sir, I’m the floozy that went home with your nephew last night. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I drank your beer and made a mess of your kitchen. Also, I might’ve ruined your jacket.

Oh shit. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t an option.

So now the only way out of this mess was through that porch door. It was well within reach, less than ten feet away. If you were really stealthy and really lucky, you could sneak out the door without him noticing you.

Quiet as a thief, as Elaria Quint, your old D&D character (who ironically enough was terrible at sneaking—yeah, her stats were absolute shit), you crept out of bed and searched for your clothes. You found your prom dress draped on the back of Eddie’s desk chair, but your shoes were nowhere to be found. Where had you taken off your shoes? You had them on when you left The Hideout. You had contemplated taking them off when you entered the house, but then you saw that Eddie had kept his on, so you left yours on too because you didn’t want to seem weird. Then they stayed on for most of the night even though they made your feet hurt, until…

until things got a little heated and you two decided to move to the bedroom. Yeah, that’s when you had taken them off. You had tripped on your heels because you were a little tipsy from the beer (Wow, one can of beer made me tipsy. Damn, I’m such a lightweight), so you slipped them off and tossed them to the side, where they were now:

on top of the washing machine,

in the kitchen,

where Wayne Munson was currently making himself breakfast.

Fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go barefoot. Yeah, I’ll run out of here like Barney Rubble, I don’t give a shit. Yabba-dabba-no, fuck that, I’m not doing this right now. I’m not taking that walk of shame. No way!

You tip-toed to the door, took a deep breath, and poked your head out into the hallway. The coast was clear. The door was right there. A couple quick steps, a twist and a push, and you were out of there.

You inched forward, stuck your hand out and… paused.

What would Eddie think when he woke up and saw his bed empty? Would he think you left because you regretted staying? Would he think you were having second thoughts about him, about your relationship? Would he think you were being flighty and running away again?

He would. You knew he would. And it would absolutely break his heart.

Oh shit, you thought. You couldn’t do that to him. Well, okay… This is how much I love you, Eddie. I’m taking the hit for you, just like in D&D. And you better save me when you wake up because I am not facing your uncle alone.

You drew your hand back and—

“You don’t have to sneak around,” Wayne said from the kitchen. “I already know you’re there.”

You sucked in a startled breath and felt your back straighten in surprise.

“Oh,” you said. Well, great, I just had a moral debate for nothing.

You shuffled down the hallway timidly while combing out your bedhair with your fingers. Eddie’s shirt went a little past your hips and his boxers stopped at the middle of your thighs. In hindsight, you should have changed back into your prom dress before leaving his room, but at this point, the jig was already up, wasn’t it? You could’ve been wearing a nun’s habit and he still would’ve made the same assumption about you.

“Hi,” you said with a nervous tremble in your voice, “I’m Y/N…”

“Hello,” Wayne replied with a deep drawl. He was standing in front of the counter in his work clothes, his eyes dull and tired. As soon as they met yours, you blurted out, “Nothing happened!” and he just nodded his head and grunted, “Mhm,” completely unfazed.

“I noticed you’ve got a lot of mugs,” you said, gesturing toward them with your hand. “You must drink a lotta coffee.”

“Mhm,” Wayne said, and raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Bit of a smartass, aren’t you?”

“Only sometimes,” you said under your breath.

Wayne’s eyes narrowed as you stepped closer. “I know you.”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Pretty sure I just have one of those faces.”

“No, I do. You were yelling outside my house—pretty loud, too.”

“Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that was me.”

“You woke me up.”

You cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that… Your nephew was being very stubborn.”

“He does that,” Wayne said. Then he dropped his head and scratched the back of his neck for a few seconds. “Well, are ya hungry? I’ve got some bacon left, and I can cook you up some eggs, if you’d like.”

Your face broke into a smile. “Sure.”

“Have a seat,” Wayne said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. You sat down at the table and made yourself comfortable.

No words were exchanged as Eddie’s uncle fried up some eggs on the hot plate. You sat in your chair and nibbled on crispy slices of bacon. Wayne had his back to you the whole time, letting the pan do the talking for him. The kitchen was silent apart from the quiet sizzle and crackling of hot butter, but not awkwardly so. In fact, it felt rather pleasant… homey, almost. You settled into it and let out a tiny, happy sigh. Then Wayne set down your plate, poured you a hot cup of coffee, and sat down across from you.

“Thank you,” you said, and broke the sunny yolk with your fork.

You were halfway through your breakfast when Eddie finally emerged from his bedroom, rubbing his face tiredly, his hair half as messy as yours.

“G’morning,” he said to his uncle; then he looked at you and said it again, his tone warm and soft. He grabbed a slice of bacon off the table, swiped it through your egg yolk, and ate it while leaning against the counter.

“I tried to call you last night,” Wayne said to him. “I wanted to see how your night went.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Oh…”

“You told me to fuck off,” Wayne said, and you blew a huge bubble into your coffee and almost started choking. Wayne looked at you briefly, then went on talking: “Then I tried to call again and you unplugged the damn phone.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I"m very sorry.”

“Mhm,” Wayne said. “Don’t ever do that again, m'kay? What if there was an emergency?”

You brought the coffee mug back to your lips, simpering. “So irresponsible, Eddie…” and he shot you a playful glare.

“I take it you had a good night,” Wayne went on, looking at the both of you.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a small smile. “Yeah, it wasn’t half bad…”

“Well, I’m glad,” Wayne said. Then he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, took a single deep breath. “Now, would you care to explain how my jacket got so damn dirty?”

You winced and shot Eddie a secret, pleading look.

“Yes,” Eddie said. “Yes, I can explain everything…”

As he turned to you, his lips curled into a loving yet vengeful smile.

“She did it.”

DWM MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x dwm!reader #wayne munson #dancing with myself #dwm #dwm short #deleted scene #ambrossart

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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

Text

tightrope. 08.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content. Word Count: ~16K Previous chapter: 07.

The light shone brightly through the large windows and it only took me seconds to feel the effects of a sleepless night. Minutes after getting out of bed, I wished I could crawl back and sink into the softness of my comforter and the scent of my lavender-sprinkled pillow.

Last night offered me no rest.

With each sip of coffee, memories of an eventful night came back to me in blurs. I could make out the unpolished lines on a man's face, whose filter had been diluted by whiskey and beer. He spoke without much thought for what he was saying, yet his words rang perfectly in my mind, echoing off the walls I had built up to guard myself against him and stinging me like a needle, striking deep within my soul.

I had no excuse to keep stepping back and forth.

It was time to step into his page. If he still wanted me to.

That feeling in my stomach, not the butterflies I would often associate with him, but the fear and regret, a guilt that shouldn’t have a place inside, far more bitter than the coffee I was sipping, left me shaken and a gentle peal of laughter rippled through my gut as if my consciousness was laughing at me.

My arms and legs were tingling, craving for movement to disperse all that energy and nerves I was storing up inside, but I had to console myself with a deep breath and the refreshing sensation of the cold pool water I was dipping my legs into, but it was late and I had a team call in a few minutes. I stayed on the edge of the pool for a while, gaze travelling between the horizon and the tiny waves my legs provoked on the water's surface when they moved and my attention all over the place, drifting back and forth to the memories of last night.

Before heading upstairs, I tried again. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill every corner of my lungs and hoping that when I released it, Carlos’ face, highlighted by the faint light, and the memory of his hoarse voice whispering my name, would be freed with it.

But they weren’t.

During my shower, my walk downstairs and even when I was logging in to the laptop to get my call started, it was still only him on my mind. His face, his plea, my name.

Eva.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at my reflection on the screen. No one had logged into the call. My eyes drifted to one of the walls of the office and then to another, stopping on the shelf again.

The helmets, the books and photographs, the personification of a dream worth chasing.

I missed the thirteen-year-old girl I once was, whose only dream was racing and who was capable of doing everything to not abandon the track—back then, the first step was getting a seat in Formula BWM and racing Carlos again.

She never got it in time to race with him.

One morning we raced each other without knowing it would be the last. One morning, for the last time, we ran to the van, heavy backpacks on our shoulders and huge grins on our lips. One morning, for the last time, we got to lunch and proudly announced who had made the best time.

One morning was the last and maybe, with a bit of effort, I could find a date somewhere in my mind to pair it with, but I didn’t need to. Didn’t want to.

Even though we never raced for a real purpose and the winner never won anything but pride, we always gave it our all. The thrill of the competition and the passion for the sport strengthened the bond that the occasion had created. He was once just my brother’s friend, the neighbour boy that was, by chance, in his class, and so much more grew from that.

I’d fallen in love with racing at the same pace I’d discovered myself; his name and his face were a permanent feature in that process. Despite everything, he was part of me and my essence, especially the racing side of my identity.

And those helmets, the house, his words so full of hope, were making me find that side again. Find the girl I once was, that version of myself that time had taken away. I wanted to be that version, because of him and for him.

I grabbed my phone and searched for my dad’s last message.

“Morning. Get me a meeting with Deborah Mayer.” I sent him.

As I packed my laptop into its case, vowing not to return to the office until the end of my vacation, I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my back. The day was getting hotter and even with the walls providing some protection, the midday sun was oppressive.

I glanced out of the window.

The backyard and the terrace were completely deserted. The chairs around the gazebo table were exactly as we’d left them the day before and Ana’s towel still hung on the back of one of the chairs. I couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the group were still sound asleep in their beds or if they were too hungover to venture out into the heat of the day.

I got my answer the second I opened the door of the office, as I heard the sound of my brother’s voice echoing down the hallway. It seemed that no matter the situation, they had found a way to have some fun.

“Good morning, sleeping beauties," I said cheerfully as I entered the living space where both couches were occupied by my friends. Rio was stretched out on the corner of the big L couch, eyes closed and head on a soft pillow, with Marjorie’s head resting peacefully on his shoulder. On the smaller couch, Ana was focused on her phone, scrolling through something with a look of intense concentration.

She glanced up at me, her expression worn out, but with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“I think they fell asleep again,” Ana said, leaning over the coffee table to retrieve her mug. Two other mugs sat on the tray atop the tiny table; the aroma of coffee mingled with the ocean breeze wafting through the open windows.

I picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it in my brother’s direction. “Good morning!” I repeated, this time a bit louder.

The pillow was still in the air when Carlos stepped in from the kitchen, white polo and navy shorts adorning his frame. He hadn't shaved yet and his hair was still wet. The sun’s rays hit his face, making his eyes appear brighter and highlighting the tiny portion of green in them.

“Morning,” he said.

He was holding a green bowl. I could see bits of granola on the surface of a white substance, likely yoghurt. My stomach growled. I didn’t have much for breakfast and I was famished. I smiled at the Spaniard and turned my face to the couple on the couch, now awake and sitting upright. Marjorie's hair was dishevelled and dark circles were visible under her eyes.

"How's that hangover treating you?" I asked her, sitting on the armrest of the couch; Carlos sat on the other side of the couch, gaze fixed on the TV.

“Still alive, so that’s a good sign,” she gave me a weak smile and leaned her head against Rio’s shoulder once more. “But I’m definitely feeling it.”

"Yeah, you definitely look like you're feeling it," I said as my brother kissed her forehead and she giggled at her own disgrace. I glanced at the TV for a second, the silence bothering me. “Anyways,” my eyes wandered through the room. I thought Ana had fallen asleep, but she quickly moved her head when I spoke. “What are the plans for today?”

“We talked about hitting the course,” Carlos replied, his eyes not leaving the TV for more than two seconds.

“Golf?” I turned back to Rio, almost begging for a change of plans. “Isn’t it too hot for that?”

He pinched both sides of his forehead and then the bridge of his nose, indicating that I may have spoken too loudly. “It’s not like we can go to the gym or a ride in a boat in this state. We’re leaving in an hour or two. It must be less warm by then.”

"Oh..." I glanced out of the window. The yacht was swaying on the waves and the sun was casting a bright line on the ocean. "I think I'll pass, but have fun.”

“No, no way!” Ana intervened. “We’re all going. You’re not going to spend the day alone.”

The other three exchanged looks and I knew right away that they were in agreement. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I said hesitantly. "I’m not playing, though.”

“Yes, you are!” Marjorie said, before yawning and stretching her arms up to the sky. “I've already convinced these two to teach us how to play. You’re not bailing now."

I glanced over at Carlos, that just shrugged at me, and then to Rio. I couldn't help but notice the huge smile on his lips. He looked over at Marjorie, adoration clear in his eyes. “I married the right one,” he said with a satisfied nod.

"Golf it is, then," I said under my breath, defeated, and glanced at the kitchen archway. "I'll grab something to eat and get ready."

I turned on my heel, famished and frankly annoyed at the plans set for the day. The room had fallen silent again, with only the voice of one of the journalists on the TV audible. However, it changed when I stepped through the kitchen archway, as another set of footsteps followed mine. I spun around to find Carlos standing there, his empty bowl in his hands and the puffiness under his eyes setting a tired expression on his face.

My thoughts whirled around in my head. I had so many questions to ask him, ones that had been building up since last night and whose importance kept increasing. We were alone for the first time since the night before. I had every question on the tip of my tongue, but my courage slipped away. I didn’t even know if he remembered anything.

“You startled me,” I said before turning back around and entering the division.

The kitchen was empty and the only audible sound was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the chirping of some birds skirting on the window sill. While I walked to the refrigerator, Carlos stopped in front of the sink.

"There's a bowl for you in the fridge," he said. "I thought you might be hungry."

Oh?

"That's…” the gesture surprised me, but so many questions layered over the action. I forced a smile, not wanting to seem arrogant. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you."

There was a bowl in the fridge, with a generous helping of crunchy granola and dark chocolate chips floating atop the creamy yoghurt. Dark chocolate. His bowl didn’t have any dark chocolate. He added it to mine because he remembered I liked it.

“Hope it’s not soggy. You took a bit more than I expected.”

“They look fine. Thank you.”

Slowly, he turned back to the skin and started washing his bowl and a couple more mugs; I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on the image as I approached him to grab one of the spoons he’d just washed from the dish rack. His face turned toward me and seconds later the sound of the water faded.

I sat down on one of the stools of the island counter, my attention shifting between him and the cereal, incapable of allowing my eyes to sit on him. Every time they caught a glimpse of him, the memories of the night before would appear.

But he didn’t have such a problem.

I could feel myself crumble under his eyes.

“About last night,” he broke the silence, voice so low it made me drift into another frequency. “I had a few too many drinks. I need to apologize.”

“That’s fine. Don’t worry.”

But then he bit his lip and after a fast nod, he spoke again. "I just want you to know that I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I don't want to come between you two—not that I could."

I was expecting an apology, but the intensity of his gaze surprised me. He grabbed the kitchen cloth on the counter in front of me and meticulously cleaned his hands. I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No, we—” A pause. “I wasn’t—I didn’t— Nevermind.”

“I can… get you his number?" he offered, still cleaning his hands, his voice actually overlapping mine. “If you haven’t gotten it, yet.”

At this point, I don’t think we were even listening to each other. I paused for a moment, considering his words and waiting for him to listen to me. I knew he didn’t mean it. His clenched fits around the cloth told me that and much more.

I shook my head. “I don’t want that.”

Carlos nodded slowly, his expression puzzled. The line of his brows cast a shadow over his eyes. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“How many times do I have to ask you to not do that thing?” He frowned further. “Trying to read me. It feels like you’re actually inside my mind.”

He snorted. “Are you annoyed?”

I swallowed hard, the cereal was forgotten in front of me. It was clear that we were both tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, but I didn't know how to approach it. And, to be sure, I didn’t even know what it was, exactly. Was it the kiss? Was it his plea right before he fell asleep? Or was it simply the fact that we were both so obviously attracted to each other, regardless of anything else?

“I am.”

“Why?”

“How much do you remember from last night?”

“Enough.”

“Enough?” I tilted my head and he raised one of his eyebrows. “What does that exactly mean?”

“Means that I saw you kissing that guy.”

I nodded. “So you remember going there and asking me to come home?”

“I do.”

“So you should know why am I annoyed.”

“Eva, porfa—” He rolled his eyes, hands going to his hair and taking their time making their way through the strands. “What do you want me to tell you? I was drunk. Seeing him… You two together…”

“You have no reason to put on a show and get mad at me when you practically shoved me into his arms.” I took a long, deep breath. “And for a second, I was thankful when I saw you walk there, until the moment I understood why you were there.”

His eyes widened. “Thankful?”

“Are you that dumb?”

“You didn’t…?” I shook my head.

“No, you idiot.” I snapped at him. The deep shadow under his brows intensified, his jaw clenching at the same pace my words reached him. I could breathe the rage. “I didn’t want to kiss him. I probably gave him some mixed signals, but—”

“That fucking—” He mumbled, more to himself than to my ears and just as he pronounced those words, and I silenced mine, he took a deep breath. I didn’t remember the last time I heard him swear. “I’m sorry. I should have—”

“What?”

“Done something. I don’t know. I didn't mean to, but seeing you with him... I got a sense of possessiveness. I just wanted to take you out of there. For the wrong reasons?” he paused. “I’m not proud of it.” His eyes were closed, jaw locked and fits clenched. I bit the interior of my cheek, my stomach twisting in reaction to his affirmation. “And him… He’s not…”

“All this because you were so busy with some bimb—” He bit his lip, stopping his lips from curling into a grin. “Are you having fun with this?”

“I am, now.”

“What game are you playing?” He let go of his lip and his grin grew to its pinnacle. I had to take a deep breath to not say anything else. “Carlos.”

“What do you want me to say?” He shrugged. “Or else, to do? I can’t make it more clear, Eva.”

“We’ve talked about this. You’re not making this any easier. You’re being—”

“What?” He paused. “Selfish? I’m aware. I’m also aware you’re instigating every little feeling and emotion I tried to mute for years. I feel like I was fighting an addiction and now I’m on the verge of relapse.”

“You can’t—”

“I know I’m far from doing the right thing, but in two days you’ll be going back to Madrid and I’m not sure when or where I’ll see you again.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to feel like I missed my shot. Again.”

I couldn’t breathe. The air was too thick, too heavy and the floor was tilting under my feet. The way he said it, the way his lips curled into a smirk. God. The war that I was waging between my body’s needs and my mind’s fears again pushed its way to the front of my mind as soon as he said those words—in his eyes, I could sense the same turmoil I felt inside.

“You can either reject me and let me go, or you can be jealous of anyone around me. You can’t do both.” He said, voice so low and horse, a hint of tiredness warring on his features. “You need to make up your mind, Eva.”

"It would be easier to talk about it if I hadn’t already."

“You’re masochists”, I said as we arrived at the clubhouse as a group, finally hiding from the heat and the sun that felt unbearable during the small walk there from the parking lot. “And probably stupid if you’re really thinking about playing in this heat.”

“Let’s get her some clubs,” Rio said to Carlos with a wink, just as he put a hand around my shoulders and dragged me to the reception. Although I tried to battle my way out of it, I couldn't escape without a bag on my shoulder and a white glove in my hand. Carlos seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling as I pulled the glove onto my hand and did the strap around my fist.

“Suits you,” he said with a grin.

We made our way to the driving range and I was blown away by the sheer size of it all, from the magnitude of the manicured lawns and perfectly trimmed hedges of the green mantle ahead of me to the luxurious ambience that enveloped us. The sun cast a beautiful light over the grass and the air was dry and hard to breathe, but the shade of the driving range gazebo made it more tolerable.

“It won’t be so hot in here,” Carlos’s hand gently touched my lower back, as he guided me to one of the unoccupied benches in front of a free tee area. “Want something to drink?”

The rest of the group settled on the other benches and around the small green patches of grass. I looked around, absorbing the energy, wanting to be in the same frequency as all of them. Marjorie was far more excited than me and I certainly didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“A mojito,” I told him. It would definitely bring up my mood. “Or a mimosa.”

“No water?” I frowned at his question, quickly shaking my head.

“You want to stay here the whole afternoon and yet you offer me water?”

Carlos chuckled. "I'm sure we can find something like that around here," he said. “I’ll get you some water anyways.”

With a gentle nod, thanking him, I turned to the horizon, taking the opportunity to glance around the driving range, to take in the sights and sounds of the golfers around us and the white carts driving towards the 18-hole course.

"You're sure you really want to stay here?" I asked, turning my gaze back to him. Carlos had his arm and hand up, calling the attention of a young waitress. "I can go with you all out there, no problem.”

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want to stay here.”

“If you’re here just because I was complaining about the heat, we—”

“I’m here because I want to,” he paused, “and because Marjorie forced us to promise we would teach you two how to play.”

I twitched my mouth. "So you're really committed to that?"

"As much as you are to learning," he said with a wink, to which I just rolled my eyes.

“I think you’re mistaken. I just download two eBooks before coming here.” He laughed at my words.

The waiter eventually came over and Carlos ordered two fresh bottles of water and a mojito. The moment the girl left, he turned to me with palpable excitement. In his hands stood one of the clubs he’d grabbed from my backpack and, with a flourish, he passed it to me. I couldn't help but laugh.

“Wait,” I said and his gaze almost automatically looked up to meet mine. “Is all of this because I once called you professor?” I teased, whirling the club around in my hands. “Have you been dreaming about it ever since?”

Fighting a reaction, he just shook his hand towards the centre of the green patch ahead of us. “Come here,” he ordered as he laid one ball on the tee, his voice holding some sense of authority. “Let’s start with the basics,” his hand motioned to the space between him and the ball. “Show me what you remember.”

My feet quickly took the same route his feet did before, making me stand between him and the small white sphere. Despite getting so close to him, close enough to hear the murmur of his breath, Carlos didn’t move.

“Can I help you with this?”

“Sure,” I said. Saddled with the pressure of his hands that quickly travelled to mine, I felt the warmth of his chest and the embrace his arms wrapped me in. After correcting my hands, he put both of his on the sides of my waist, moving them slightly. “You just need to bend the knees a bit more,” he indicated and my body responded with ease.

Carlos stepped away and moved closer to the bench. Enough to give me space, but close enough to me to remind me he was still here, which didn’t soothe my whole self still, which was left in disarray from the previous proximity. The wind blew gently, carrying with it the fresh scent of the ocean and the newly cut grass. Carlos's specs, perched atop his head, didn't prevent the breeze from lifting up the locks of his hair, blowing them back from his forehead.

“Relax the shoulders,” he instructed and with a nod, I shook my arms slightly, releasing the tension. “Go at it.”

Copying Marjorie’s gestures and recalling the lessons from my father years ago, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling my body align with the club before I took a swing, the sound of the ball hitting the tee filling the air. I opened my eyes and saw the ball flying far away from me and my companions, who were cheering me on from the sidelines.

“Not bad,” the Spaniard said, passing by me to get another ball from the bucket. “Almost a natural at this.” He laid it at my feet and got up. “Next time, try to be focused on the ball and not the teacher.”

Something had changed. I couldn’t help but notice a spark of delight in his eyes or a hint of teasing in each of his words. There was a palpable energy between us, one I knew he was feeling too. I opened my lips to talk, a comeback already on the tip of my tongue, but with a sudden jolt, the sound of Marjorie’s club impacting the ball made him turn away.

"Oh my god!" She shouted, her eyes widening in amazement as the ball sailed across the sky, seemingly flying away. "Babe, do you see how far it went? Eva! Carlos! Did you see that?" She looked at me, then at Carlos.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Marjorie's joy. "That was good!" I said. "But don't get too cocky. I'm sure I can make my ball go farther than yours," I winked at her and turned to Carlos. "Make me better at this."

The Spaniard raised an eyebrow, lips shaping into a confused smile. He looked around and all it took was to look at Rio, whose expression instigated him to join in, for Carlos to shift his own. "Now you're interested?”

"As you said the other day,” Marjorie patted Carlos on the arm, as she walked towards the bucket of balls laying at Carlos’ feet. “All it takes is a bit of competition and Eva gets motivated."

He chuckled; a deep, throaty sound that made me smile. “I can see that. The goal is beating Marjorie?”

I shrugged. “The goal is to not totally suck at this.”

Carlos walked over to me, his strides were more conscious and assertive than before. “You beat Marjorie, you decide how, where and when to celebrate your victory. If she wins, we have dinner tonight.” I raised my eyebrow.

“How does that sound?” His eyes searched mine for an answer.

I met him head-on. “I can get behind that.”

“Good,” he seemed satisfied with my response, giving me only a gentle nod before gesturing towards the ball. Carlos stepped back, close enough so I could still hear his instructions and corrections, but far enough from the angle of my movements.

Glancing at the couple in front of me, I saw Rio move away from Marjorie and walk towards Carlos. Marjorie was looking down, holding her stance.

After positioning both hands on the pockets of his shorts, my brother glanced at me. “Ready?” I nodded. “Go ahead, girls.”

For the first time in a while, I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to win. Despite this, my heart beat rapidly in my chest and I wasn’t sure why. I faced the white sphere, my body inching forward. I closed my eyes and swung the club, feeling the tension leave my shoulders as the ball flew through the air. When I opened my eyes, I saw it soaring high, farther than I expected it to go.

With a loud thwack, Marjorie’s ball cut the sky. I wasn’t sure how to react when her ball flew higher and farther than mine. She knew exactly how to react, cheering in delight and wrapping her arms around Rio, who joined her to celebrate.

I glanced over at Carlos, his nose scrunched up as his eyes searched the green mantle in front of us, too bright from the direct sunlight. “That was impressive!” He clapped once, his enthusiasm adorable and contagious. He then raised his hand towards Marjorie, who was still giggling when she raised her hand to high-five him.

God, how can this man make this mildly interesting sport into something actually enjoyable?

“Yours was not bad, Eva,” my brother said, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I had to lift my eyes from where I was already bent down, preparing to place another ball on my tee, to look up at Rio. “But I’m sorry to say, I think this might be the first sport you will fall behind us in.”

I sighed and stood up, adjusting the pleads of my skirt. "Don't push it.”

Carlos chuckled, the sound bringing a sense of calm. "Alright," he said, patting my brother on the back before turning to me. "Ignore him and focus on me.”

Not difficult, I wanted to say.

Once again, he positioned himself behind me, this time not asking anything before his hands settled on my waist. I felt a slight shift as he adjusted my posture, the sensation of his fingers brushing against the skin of my thigh through the fabric of the cotton skirt.

"I don't think I need any more help," I said, my voice quiet, but he still remained close, his presence a tangible reminder of the tension that lingered in the air.

“I do,” a pause. He patted my thigh with two fingers. “Spread your legs.”

Oh.

Carlos was closer than I anticipated, his words brushed against my earlobe and set on fire a darker side of my mind that was awakened by that command. I complied; what else could I do? I would have taken over the world if he had asked me to.

“A bit more,” his fingers continued there. Then, he patted my skin once again. “Perfect. Now, your grip,” he continued. His voice was so stern and unwavering, I almost felt anger at his composure in this situation. Carlos moved his hands, now firmly on top of mine as he corrected the angle of my fists. “Keep them like this when you lean forward. Don’t bend them back like you were doing before.”

And he stepped back.

The scent of sandalwood vanished and the comfort of his chest departed with it.

It felt cold even under the almost 30-degree sun.

I leaned forward, turning my face in his direction, looking for his approval. Before giving me a slight nod, he regarded me for a couple of seconds. His eyes were set away from my face and not quite on my hands. Was he looking at me? At my ass?

“Like this?” I asked and his gaze quickly met mine. It was only then that he nodded.

“Keep your grip light, but not too relaxed. You need to have control over the club.” A pause. “Swing once or twice before hitting. Pronto?”

“Pronto,” I answered before shaking my arms and getting into position. “Ready when you are, Marge.”

Marjorie’s ball was the first to take flight, soaring away and disappearing into the bright blue sky. My swing took a few more seconds and, despite all the effort and focus I put into making it a great hit, a high-pitched cheer from my right made it clear that my drive was still not as impressive as hers.

“Closer, but not quite there, yet,” Rio said, a playful smile on his face as he glanced over at me. “If we hang around here for the rest of the day you'll eventually get the hang of it.” He paused and I turned around to go have a sip of the mojito waiting for me at a small table. “Or you just suck at this and no time in the world will be enough.”

I flipped him off, my lips busy with the straw, sucking in the fresh drink. Rio chuckled at my response and I rolled my eyes in response, a smile tugging at my lips. Carlos stepped forward and took one club from his bag, turning his attention towards Rio.

"Alright, let's see what you’ve got," Sainz said, shaking his head. "You've been talking a lot, but I haven't seen you do anything yet."

Rio's face lit up in response to the challenge, his competitive spirit visible in the way he stepped up to his bag and took one of the clubs. His strides were confident when he walked towards the tee, face scrunched up in intense focus.

With a steady swing, he hit the ball and it flew far into the horizon. He let out a satisfied “Ha!” before turning to his best friend.

“Show me what you got, Chili,” my brother said with a victorious grin on his lips.

Carlos raised his eyebrows, his expression one of amusement. "Sure you don't want to give me any advice?"

Rio shrugged and Marjorie walked towards me, taking one of the bottles of water the waitress had left near her stuff. As I focused on my sister-in-law, the banter from the guys filled the background. She sat on my bench and crossed her legs.

“You seem excited,” she said, her hand aligned with her eyebrows as she tried to look at me, positioned between her and the sun.

“You’re wrong. I’m being humiliated,” I chuckled and as a loud thwack filled the air, I looked back to see Carlos’ ball cross the sky. He winked at me before turning back to Rio.

Rio gave a low whistle, his eyes still on the horizon, and shook his head in wonderment. "That was some good stuff," he said in admiration. I turned back to Marjorie, but Rio’s words made me pay attention to him once more. "You found yourself a good teacher, sis. If only he was as good at teaching as he is at playing…”

Rio's words lingered in the air and I felt a sudden tension arise between Carlos and me. I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed for the way my brother had said it, but, as it seemed to be the norm, Carlos appeared unfazed.

"Eva is a tough one to teach," he gestured to the tee area. I left the mojito on its coaster and grabbed my club before walking towards him, ready to find out what he had in store for me. "She's a bit stiff, you know?" He continued, tapping my arms with his fingers. "These arms," he added, poking them gently, "and these abs," he continued, poking the sides of my waist, making me giggle due to the ticklish sensation. "They need work. She’s been lazy."

Marjorie looked at us with a crease between her brows and then at Rio with a more confused expression. Ana was also looking over at us and even from a distance, I could notice her confusion. The corners of my mouth instantly turned up in a self-conscious smile and I straightened my posture, still trying to process the giggle that had just escaped my lips.

Carlos, seemingly unaware of the commotion he had caused, guided me to the centre of the tee area and stepped back. He corrected some flaws he had noticed in my stance. “Three more hits. Make me proud,” he said

My heart fluttered at the challenge and I nodded in agreement, my mind set on not totally sucking at this game. If I couldn’t beat Marjorie, I wanted to be almost there. After another deep breath and a swing of the club, my eyes fixed on the ball as it flew away. When I opened them, the ball was soaring high and I let out a victorious hoot.

"That's more like it!" Carlos said, clapping his hands in approval. "Again."

I repositioned myself onto the tee, feeling a renewed sense of determination. My feet moved in place, adrenaline rushing from the handle and taking me whole. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and swung the club with all my might. The sound of the club hitting the ball filled the air and when I opened my eyes, I saw the ball flying far away from me.

"That was a great hit!" Carlos said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He stepped forward and patted my back, his hand lingering for a few seconds. "Last one. It’s all or nothing.”

My determination was evident in my stance, but I gave him a gentle nod before I bent over to pull another ball from the bucket. The Spaniard stepped back, siding with Rio who, just like him, had his arms crossed over his chest. While Marjorie arranged her hat, tidying up the ginger strands of hair under the white brim, I adjusted the band of my skirt around my waist.

The faux leather glove was not comfortable and my hand was sweaty under the warm material.

“Ready?” Marjorie looked over her shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” I gave her a tiny smile.

All the distractions faded away, vanishing from my mind as my gaze fixed on the end of the field ahead of me. My arms felt relaxed yet in control. My focus was on the ball and the horizon and not on Carlos’ arms, which had been around me moments ago. Not on his low, warm voice against my ear. Not on his hands, on top of mine, handling me like a doll.

Joder.

Marjorie had already hit her ball and I was still there, my mind so preoccupied with pushing away all the distractions that the main one made me freeze in place.

Focus, Eva.

I took a deep breath and shook my arms, trying to get rid of the tension, but I was too deeply immersed in the warm comfort his presence had evoked in my body and the traps my subconscious had set up for me.

Maybe I never intended to win. The look on Carlos' face, the undertone in his eyes when he saw my ball fall into the grass and noticed Marjorie had won, giving him the privilege to control our night, made me wonder why I had even tried.

“Olivia is asking for you,” Marjorie sat to my right, on one of the foldable chairs me and Rio had carried to the pier some day before. She handed me the phone, where my niece’s face was plastered into.

“Tia Eva!” Olivia, my three-year-old niece said, her hands extended to the screen and a huge smile on her tiny face, revealing her imperfect denture. Adorable.

"Hi there, baby," I said, waving to the camera. "Where's Grace?"

My mom, holding the phone behind the camera, pointed it to the other side of the room. There, my niece was sitting on the floor, playing with a pile of books. I chuckled, my heart melting at the sight.

"Are you two behaving?" I asked. My niece answered with two nods of her head, making her pigtails swing. "Is Grammie behaving too?"

She scrunched her nose and looked over the camera, probably at my mom. "Grammie gave us ice cream from the store.” After speaking, she quickly brought up her finger to her lips. “Don't tell Mom."

From behind the camera, my mother asked the same thing. Marjorie, just two steps away, had already heard it. Ignoring her mad face, I turned my attention to the little girl on the screen.

“Can you give a kiss to Grace for me?” Olivia's face lit up with a smile and she got up from the floor. “Liv, you don’t need to— Okay, you’re doing it now.”

Reaching Grace, Olivia got on her knees and planted a kiss on her sister’s forehead, whose face instantly brighten up. "Fatto!” She screamed from afar.

A shadow fall on my back and when I looked down to the corner of the screen to see who was shielding me from the sun, my eyes met Carlos' grinning face. His head was hovering just above mine.

“Hola, señoritas,” Carlos said with a warm smile and the two faces on the screen shifted to meet his gaze. “Your papa told me you asked about me. Here I am.”

“Chili!” Olivia shouted, while Grace just jumped in her place. Liv, the most easygoing of the two got closer to the screen, the excitement in her voice growing louder with each step. “Papá said your house is big and you have a boat, and a pool, and the whole sea.”

Carlos gave a hearty chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's true," he said, nodding his head in affirmation while taking the phone out of my hands. "But we’re not having much fun. This it's nothing compared to when I visit."

Grace shook her head, still seated in the back. “Grammie doesn’t have a boat,” she murmured with a sigh, her eyes wide with amazement.

My gaze turned to Marjorie, who was just smiling at the image of Carlos with her phone in his hand, walking around the pier and showing the Riva yacht to the twins. He seemed to be convincing them that we were not having too much fun and it was evident that he was succeeding in his mission.

“Does he visit a lot?” I asked Marjorie, my back meeting the back of the foldable chair again.

Her clear eyes drifted from the Spaniard and turned back to me. "Almost every time he’s at home." She paused and looked back at the image of Carlos, her voice softening. "They are crazy for him."

He smiled and his gaze shifted to me. His expression softened and I felt a warmth embrace me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

"I got that idea at my mom’s birthday party,” I said, still following his strides over the pier, the adorable sight and sound of his excited voice talking to the twins. “When I saw them so comfortably waking and being around him, Olivia’s tiny hand on his hair… my heart melted.”

“Of envy or—”

“Don’t be stupid,” she laughed and I hit her on the arm.

Marjorie turned her chair to me. I didn’t need to be a psychic to guess what she was about to say. “You’re getting along well,” and there it was. I rolled my eyes. “Although you almost tricked me last night, kissing the German guy.”

"Yeah, let’s not talk about that," I said, my gaze on Carlos and my attention on the sound of his voice carrying over. He was telling the twins a story, his intonation and gestures making it more vivid. Blue shorts, with tiny single-seaters printed on them, and a rose gold iPhone in his hand.

A gentle tug at my arm distracted me. I turned in Marjorie’s direction, only to find her smiling at me.

"You have to admit," she said, a soft glint in her eyes. "He's pretty charming."

And if it was a movie and he was aware of his cues, he laughed at something and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Carlos had a way of making everything seem so easy.

“Where is this coming from?” I asked her, “Why this sudden interest? Last Friday you were asking me to ignore him the whole week because you needed, and I quote, a nice drama-free week with your dearest hubby.”

She sighed. “I’ve seen the way you both look at each other and last night… I could have been drunk, but I clearly noticed how pissed he got when he saw you with the other guy.”

“His name is Uwe,” I added.

“Him,” she shrugged. “The second I saw Carlos’ face… I knew you were not telling me your whole story.”

I cleared my throat and tried to shake away the sudden feeling of being exposed, of the truth being unveiled. "Marjorie," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We are just friends."

Her eyebrow raised and she gave me a knowing smile. "Right," she said, her voice softening. "That's what you two keep saying." She looked over at Carlos, her gaze lingering a bit too long, before turning back to me with a knowing smile. "The way you look at each other, though…” she let out a long, dramatic sigh. “The eyes, chica, they don’t lie.”

“Ugh,” I grunted, defeated, dragging my hands over my face. “You’re so annoying. What do you want me to say?”

Marjorie's gaze softened and she smiled. "I'm not asking you to say anything. Just be honest with yourself." She gestured to Carlos, who was still playing with the twins and nodded her head in his direction. "Look at him. What do you see?"

I sighed, my gaze still fixed on Carlos. He was holding the phone in one hand and the other was now in his hair. With slow steps, he approached my brother and sat by his side under the shade of the gazebo, the phone in front of them both.

“A devilishly handsome man in ridiculous swimming trunks talking on the phone with two toddlers and somehow sounding more childish than them.”

Marjorie smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "What I heard was: a man who, despite his tough exterior and terrible communication skills, is a gentle and caring soul who understands you, loves your family like his own, and is willing to put in effort for you.”

She looked at me with a victorious grin.

“Manipulative bitch,” I whispered under my breath, a comment to which she responded with a strident laugh.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” Marjorie asked me with a playful glint in her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, the sun playing with her red hair, making it look like a flaming halo around her head.

“I think you do,” I said, my lips curving into a smile. “But it doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“You’ll thank me later,” she said, her voice softening. “Now go talk to him.”

“Later,” I said, standing up and fixing the strings of my swimsuit. “We’re having dinner together.”

And before I turned around to make my way to the gazebo to talk with my brother who was, once again, alone, I had the opportunity to witness the almost impeccable “o” shape that Marjorie's lips had formed.

The sun was still high, but the dusky colours of the sunset were already starting to paint the firmament. My eyes scanned the surroundings as I traced the cement of the pier, the small rocks and the sand hurting the bare skin of my feet. I missed these long sunsets and the easy-going life by the sea. The casual conversations, the banter, the small routine we’d constructed for ourselves.

It was all so easy.

The warmth of the setting sun and the sound of the waves against the pier were the perfect background melody to the conversations that so easily flowed. My brother’s laughter mingled perfectly with the engine of the jetskis roaring in the distance. I touched his shoulder before sitting on an empty chair in front of him.

Carlos, sitting next to him, raised his eyes from his phone, his lips forming a faint smile. Marjorie’s iPhone was now balancing on Rio’s leg.

"Did they finally let you go?" He frowned, not quite understanding the question at first before realisation dawned on him.

"Your mother had to bribe them with ice cream, actually," he said, taking a sip of the Estrella Galicia he was holding in his other hand. "I'm sorry for stealing them away from you; I didn’t let you finish talking."

"Oh, don't worry about it,” I raised my hands, shanking them in front of me. “I talk to them every day, it's no big deal."

A gentle nod of the head and a raspy sound came from Rio, who cleared his throat. “Are you finally filling me up about the email I got from Dad?”

I paused for a moment. “Email? Actually, Dad’s why I came here.”

“Do you need me to—” Carlos stepped forward, pointing at the sea before standing up and taking Marjorie’s iPhone from Rio’s leg. “I’ll take this to Marjorie,” he said, his voice calm and assured. His eyes then shifted to me. “Can you be ready in one hour?”

Rio’s confusion was evident, as his eyes moved between the two of us. “For what?”

I shook my head in response, my eyes going back to Carlos, already walking towards Marjorie. “Not at all. Where are we going?”

The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as Carlos continued his journey towards Marjorie.

My brother seemed to notice the lack of response, looking between the two of us in confusion. “Where are you two going?”

Carlos only responded with a simple command. “Just grab a sweater then,” he told me. “I’ll be back soon.”

A feeling of uncertainty filled me as I watched him disappear down the corridor, leaving Rio and me behind. With his back now facing me in the shadow, I could see in full resolution the muscles glistening under the sun, the soft breeze lifting the dark strands of his hair up in the air. He sat where I was sitting a minute ago and before I could pay attention to what he was saying to Marjorie, Rio called for me.

I turned to him. “I don’t know either.”

But God, how I was dying to know.

"So then," he gestured with his hand. "The email…?”

“Right,” I exhaled and sat upright. “What email?”

“Dad sent me an email. You apparently want a meeting with Deborah Mayer?”

“I don’t know if it’s a fit, but The Iron Dames seem like a good first step to reenter the scene,” Rio nodded. “I’m looking at F3, too. I need to do something. Find a place. They can help.”

“Oh,” he moved in his seat, his hands landing on the armrests of the beach chair. “F3? Dad won’t like that. He started to ramble about you’re seat at WEC, and—”

“Rio,” my brother looked at me. “Don’t ask me why, but I want to do something. I want to do something. And I don’t care if Dad is behind me on it, but I can’t feel like this while racing. I’ve spent the last year trying to understand why I feel so… lost. I love the team, I loved The Challenge, but that was not what I was fighting for.”

“F3 is?”

“F1 is.” I paused. “F3 is the first step.”

“Eva, you’re aiming high…” he started. “I get it. You need to find your passion again. But are you sure this is the right move?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“And if he says no?”

“Why would he?”

We sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound of the sea lazily kissing the shore. I thought about my father and his expectations for me. Wondered what he said in the email he apparently sent to Rio. At that point, I hadn’t heard anything from my father after my text. I can’t complain about him. Dad had always been supportive of my racing career, but he also had his own agenda. He wanted me to be a champion and win races. “You either win or lose.” I heard him say time and time again. But racing wasn’t just about winning. Racing is not just about winning—it is about the thrill of the competition, the rush of adrenaline, and the feeling of being alive.

Rio knows that.

"I know it's a risk. And it could be a waste of money. And could go terribly wrong but—”

“Breath,” my brother said. Understanding writing in his eyes. “I get it. I was there once.”

“What did Dad say in the email?”

“It’s not worth it to repeat,” his lips drew a fragile smile. "It sounds like you've decided.” He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his Estrella Galicia. “What do you need me to say?”

The corner of my lip kicked up in a subtle way and his did the same, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You know… just that typical big brother stuff. You can always call me, you’re capable of that and so much more… I'll be by your side no matter what… " I said with a shrug, gesturing with my hands, imitating his Italian gestures that, for some reason, he had picked up from my dad to a degree that I hadn't managed. He chuckled softly, as though he had been privy to my thoughts.

Rio's eyes softened and he gave me a small nod of approval. "Of course, I will," he said. "You know I'm always here for you, Eva. Besides," he added. "I'm sure Carlos would be a great help too."

“I don’t want to go there…”

“What I mean is that he’s always been a great support for you before. You work well together, or— used to. He knows the field. He knows the people. He can help. Mayer can help you, but I’m sure you can also find some support in Ferrari. You’ve won their championship… But don't forget—Carlos is the one who got you interested in the sport in the first place." He paused and gave me a pointed look. "And he's the one who has been in the industry for years. He can give you great advice. Don’t be too stubborn. Use the help, open as many doors as you can." He reached over and squeezed my hand gently. "And you know I'm always here for you, too.” He paused. “See? I can do the big brother bullshit too.”

“So caring,” with an eye roll, I gently slapped his hand. “So, you think I won’t fuck this up?”

"You? Fuck it up? Nah, never," he shook his head and gave me a reassuring smile. "You got this."

The words lingered in the air for a while and I was at a loss for what to say. Motorsport-wise, Rio had been my rock ever since the first day I set foot on the track. Carlos had been there with him too, clutching my hand and making me laugh on our way home when things didn’t go as I expected them to.

Both of them had been there for more than ten years, supporting me on and off track. Better, we’ve been there for each other. And even if I’d lost a major pillar somewhere along the way, which hurt like hell, we were collectively working on rebuilding it.

A wave of gratitude washed over me when I laid my eyes on my brother. Reaching out, I grabbed his hand.

“Thank you,” I let out. “I’m sorry for not making it easier for you to have this same conversation with me months ago.”

Rio shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It's okay. It's all part of growing up, I guess." He glanced around the pier, taking in the sight of the sun setting, the laughter of the others, and the feeling of warmth that filled the air. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I knew the island air would help you figure out a thing or two.”

The corner of my lips tugged up in a gentle smile as I looked at my brother, my hand still in his. On my palms, the warmth of his skin spelt a confirmation of his presence and companionship. I knew he was right from the moment I’d stepped on that plane.

Ever since then, I was invited to see the world from a new perspective and new paths unravelled in front of me. Whether I’d chosen to trace the right ones, I was yet to discover, but at least, I felt ready to try.

The sun was still high, but the dusky colours of the sunset were already starting to paint the horizon. The wind was gentle and it brought the smell of the sea to my nose and played with my hair, which caressed my face.

My eyes scanned the surroundings as I traced the cement of the pier, the small rocks and the sand hurting the bare skin of my feet. I sat on the pier, my legs hanging down from it, toes pointed at the water, being kissed by the occasional splashes Rio provoked, riding Carlos’ electric surfboard a few feet away.

My brother’s contagious laughter mingled with Marjorie’s screams of joy, as she cheered him from a smaller boat owned by the Sainz. The other four accompanied her—Ana filming Rio, as he crossed the mirror of water effortlessly. I closed my eyes, my entire being encapsulated in that moment, and attempted to block out the nerves.

Carlos’ yacht, a gleaming beauty, moored in front of me. Its brown hull shone brightly in the sunlight and gentle waves kissed its shell. I just waited, impatient. My heart raced in my chest, filling me with a warmth that had nothing to do with the setting sun.

Every couple of minutes, I glanced at the other end of the pier, scanning the backyard and trying to see in between the branches of the trees, trying to spot him. Carlos had texted before I left my room, after brushing my wet, salty hair and exchanging my sun dress with wet patches around my breasts and sand trapped in the cotton fibres for a new, cleaner one.

“Wait for me at the pier. I’m a little late,” he had written.

And despite the fact that I’d replied to him with a breezy “No problems!”, I had a lot of problems.

It was Carlos who I was meeting, for a date at sunset, probably in his yacht, to discuss the feelings none of us seemed capable of wanting to hide or deny. My sixteen-year-old self would be dying for something remotely like this. That thought alone made me smile.

Raising my head and turning it to my right, once more wishing to end this waiting game, my eyes finally caught a glimpse of a man. Bare feet on the grass, a white t-shirt and navy blue trunks with the white Formula Ones printed on them, a brown wicker basket in one hand and a bouquet of daisies in the other.

I got up, my eyes never leaving the flowers and the man carrying them.

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't help but smile as I watched Carlos approach me, a gentle breeze lifting his dark hair, his eyes twinkling.

"I’m so sorry, it took more time than I was expecting," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. He extended the bouquet of daisies in my direction. "I brought you these.”

I took the bouquet with my free hand. The other one was too busy clenching the fabric of my jumper.

"Thank you," I said, my lips curving into a smile as I brought the bouquet closer, inhaling its sweet scent. “What took you so long? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He raised the basket he was holding and crossed the distance between the pier and the yacht. “The food.” Carlos left the basket on one of the seats and came back to the end of the boat with his hand extended to me. “I thought we could enjoy a picnic at sea.”

My hand felt so light when I found his touch. His fingers wrapped around my hand so gently and effortlessly and he helped me get in. Then, his hands travelled to my waist, navigating me around. I laid down the flowers on top of the basket, the sweater on the back of one of the seats and leaned against it while Carlos got the boat ready.

Of everything I’d imagined for our dinner, this was not it. This was romantic.

The flowers and the wicker basket. The sweater and the breeze that became more chilly with each passing second. The smell of the food and the pastel colours that the sunset was bringing into the atmosphere. All of that transported me into a dream.

After undoing one more set of ropes and throwing them to the pier, where they fell with a silent thud, he turned to me and motioned to the seat in front, beside the one in front of the helm. I settled in before he reached the helm.

Carlos glanced at me before turning the key on the ignition. The engine roared to life, the vibrations rippling through the air, shaking up the loaded atmosphere. It felt so dumb. I felt dumb. I couldn’t look at his hands, steering the boat, without it bringing my whole body to the edge of self-combustion. To worsen my condition, I dared to look at his face.

Pure joy and excitement radiated from him. His clenched jaw and focused frown softened as the boat picked up speed and we cut the water with ease, away from the Sainz’s backyard. When I remembered to look back, the house was a blur and my friends were tiny dots in the sea.

Carlos was the only subject I could focus on.

The warmth of the sun soaked into my bones. The sky was painted with a beautiful hazy pink and pastel orange. Everything was bathed in a soft golden aura, my mind included. I smiled to myself, feeling so at peace with the world.

My anticipation dissipated as we were carried away by the motions of the boat.

The orange pastels reminded me of a drunk man and his words.

And the feelings he so easily brings out of me.

And the idea that if we were to fall, at least we would fall together.

Two high cliffs rose majestically to our left. The sun slowly set to the right, painting a beautiful tapestry in the sky with its golden hues, even if it was still far from touching the water.

It was magical.

The roar of the engine. The colours. The company.

Carlos cut the engine and the boat slowed down, the silence an eerie sound in the background. I allowed myself to take it in. My eyes roamed around the land, the steep cliffs and the houses planted by the sea, taking in the light, like lazy cats under the sun.

My attention was drawn by the man next to me, who took a step away from the helm and turned to me. The corner of my lips curled up into a small smile when I saw him sitting on one of the seats, back turned to the cliffs and eyes focused on me.

My fingers covered my face, my only shield against his piercing gaze. “Stop that, Sainz.”

He chuckled. “I’m literally just sitting here.”

I shook my head and laughed in response. "You know what I mean," I said. I took a deep breath and sighed. "It's really pretty around here," I said, my voice soft and my gaze turned towards the cliffs.

"Yes, it is," Carlos said softly, his eyes still on me. He paused for a moment before continuing. "The perfect place for a date, I'd say." His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes were serious like he was daring me to contradict him.

“This is not a date, though. Just a dinner.” The curve of his lips grew bigger and his grin wider. “But I know what you mean. Couldn’t be better.”

“Shall we eat?” Carlos suggested, getting up.

My eyes slowly drifted to the basket and the flowers on top of it. The bouquet was strewn around by the wind, its petals scattered, yet somehow still creating an organized chaos of its own. Carlos gently laid it on the white cushion of the seat and picked up the basket, carrying it to the back of the boat, where I watched him, still in silence. He then sat on the aqua-blue sun bed and motioned for me to join him.

Trying to be careful not to disturb his careful arrangement, I tip-toed around him and settled in.

“Do you need any help?” I asked, looking up at him with a smile, eager to be of assistance.

“No, sit and enjoy,” he replied, focused on his task. His eyes didn’t even lift to find me.

Wine, two stemless glasses, grapes, croissants and cinnamon rolls. In his hands, a glass container with figs and honey. He arranged the items carefully around the small linen towel he had spread, before unpacking the basket. My eyes followed each and every one of the movements.

“I didn't want to put pressure on you to get ready for a fancy restaurant, but I also didn't want to settle for a basic dinner,” he explained, holding up the bottle of wine. “Wine?” He offered with a hopeful smile.

“Oh, yes, please,” I replied, sliding my glass closer to him. Carlos quickly grabbed the corkscrew from the basket and opened the bottle of wine with ease, before filling in my glass. “Where did you get all of this?”

“The market from the other day. Went there to pick up some fruit and found a lovely bakery. I had to wait a long time for the croissants, though.” He filled his glass, as well. Only then I took mine to my lips. “They were still in the oven when I got there.”

“That way I can apologize to you for being late,” he looked at me, a small chuckle coming through his thick lips. Laying down the glass on the towel, I took another bite of the pastry. “These are so good.” I looked at the small croissant in my hands, and then back to him, again. His eyebrows were raised as he looked at me attentively, lips shaped in a smile. “You should go and get them for breakfast tomorrow as well,” I teased.

“Eh!” I chuckled in response to the indignation in his tone. “Don’t push it.”

"I'm just making a suggestion," I held my hands in front of me in defence and then extended my hands to grab a piece of cheese, which I popped into my mouth. Then, I took another sip of the wine. The fruity notes of the rosé filled my mouth. “Hum…” I swirled the wine around my mouth; so familiar.

“Good?” He asked, eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“I know this one,” I reached for the bottle and read the label in front of the peony-pink liquid. “You’re getting better at picking bottles!”

"Yeah, I thought you'd like this one," he said, scooping a spoonful of the figs and honey. "I finally paid attention to your dad's lessons.”

"Really?" Carlos nodded in response, his eyes softening as he savoured the figs. I couldn't help but notice the way his lips glistened with honey, reflecting the light of the sun. “I’ll remember to tell him that.”

I turned my gaze away from him, towards the water and the cliffs towering behind him.

The atmosphere was so light that our words didn’t linger around us; instead, the conversation flowed like the breeze. We made our way through the food and the bottle of wine, getting lost in time and the casual conversation. The pastries were the central point of our interest, baked by the sweet old lady that owned a store not too far away from the house, which she had even wrapped in a pretty box for us. Carlos had left the box inside the basket, but just glancing at the small carton box and the purple ribbon around it made me smile.

Not because I was scared to touch the subject, but because I didn’t want to burst the bubble, we refrained from talking about anything outside of the contours of the island. We pretended to not know what lay behind the horizon. I thought that perhaps he felt the same feeling I was cradling inside my ribcage, the need to be locked in this private paradise, almost like a fort, shielding us from all of the chaos and uncertainty that was happening outside.

We both allowed ourselves to be swept away by the moment; the sun slowly setting behind us, the food slowly disappearing from the linen towel. We talked, we laughed, and we shared, just like two normal people, away from the eyes of the world, enjoying a moment of pure bliss.

It felt like a dream.

At some point, Carlos leaned back, supporting himself on his elbows, and scanned the sky, staring off into the distance. His eyes moved slowly across the horizon, taking in the setting sun and the array of colours that painted the sky. The light fell on his face, so golden, casting the shadow of his eyelashes on his cheeks. The soft, cool breeze gently whipped his hair. He must have noticed the way I had been looking at him because when he turned to me, a knowing smirk was on his lips.

"I'm planning on taking you out to a proper dinner, you know?" I raised an eyebrow at that and tried to stop the smile of anticipation from appearing on my lips. "The day you finally let me take you on an official date, I mean," he clarifies nonchalantly and lays lay down completely, the back of his head resting on his hands. "I'll wait.”

“Never thought you would be so patient, Sainz,” I teased while snatching a grape from the cluster in front of me.

The Spaniard smiled and shook his head. "You make it sound like I'm desperate," he laughed. "But I do have some patience." A pause. "I think it has its limits, though.”

My eyes scanned his face, my mind racing with thoughts of the night before. His poor behaviour and the words that had come out of his mouth without a filter. The dim orange light, being mimicked by the sunset now.

Hesitantly, I asked. “Where is the limit, then?” My throat felt so empty and dry, it surprised me that I didn’t stutter. “Did you draw the line at the whiskey and beer or—?”

He cut me off before I could finish, his body rose from the ground. “At the sight of other men holding you,” his voice resonated. I brought my hands to my tights. “I couldn’t stand one more second of that.”

Both of us fell into silence; the song of the waves sang louder around us. There was so much to say, but I just didn’t know where to start. I didn’t want to apologize for what I’d done. Period. But the silence and the image of his eyes growing darker by the second deepened in front of me. He was mad. Hurt, perhaps?

I looked away, finding comfort in the sunset.

Thoughts started piling up, coupled with questions I didn’t know if I wanted to ask. My mind wandered through all of them and I felt like I was lost in a maze, unable to find a way out of the mess we had created around ourselves.

Finally, Carlos broke the silence.

“I know you don’t trust me,” he said and paused. His voice was so deep, almost cracking at the end like his mouth tried to repel that sentence. I’d forgotten about telling him that, but the sad look in his eyes told me he didn’t. He probably remembered the words too brightly and, for the first time, I regretted saying them. “And… I know it’s been hard to have me around,” he leaned his head slightly, eyes dropping to my hands, resting on my tights. My palms started to sweat against the thin fabric of my sundress. His eyes met mine once more, so dark, with a weight sitting heavily above them. “All I can say is that I’m sorry for last night.”

“I—” I couldn't bring myself to say anything; my words were just dumb mumblings, whispers I wasn't sure he could listen to. “Don't—”

If he did listen, he ignored them.

“Also,” his expression was rigid. His eyebrows were drawn together and the deep shadows under them seemed to intensify his gaze. “I'm not going anywhere.” It felt like a promise.

I searched his face for any trace of anger or disappointment but found none. After he spoke, his features softened and a hint of vulnerability pierced through. That subtle hint almost got lost in the firmness of his words. It wouldn’t be fair to shield myself. I shook my head left and right, eyes roaming the sky and the empty bottle of wine, afraid of meeting his. The words disappeared when I thought I had them on the tip of my tongue, the beating of my heart ricocheted inside my heart to the point it seemed unbearable to sustain.

Each word seemed like a corner I was not sure I’d gotten the best line for.

“I didn’t go dance with him to get to you.” was the first thing I brought myself to say. “Maybe I did, in a way. It—” I corrected myself so quickly he didn’t have much time to react. He just nodded, simply nodded. No smile, no… nothing. He just patiently waited. I took a deep breath and cleaned the palms of my hands on my tights. “And the kiss?”

Once again, he frowned.

“I am the same person I was before him. Before he touched me, before he kissed me.” I shrugged. It was simple, in my mind. “Nothing changed with that kiss. But, with you…?” I brought my eyebrows together. How could he not see it? Or feel it? “All it took was to see you. That night, in Mugello… Seeing you…” Words fled again, emotions pilling up inside. “My world shifted in place.”

The air felt heavier, my words weighing down the atmosphere around us but freeing my chest from all the pain. At that moment, I felt myself hovering between two different worlds, blind to reality but too grounded to see ahead. I kept going.

“After all that time, I thought… I thought it was gone. The feelings, the longing… I thought I'd come to terms with the fact that you were no longer a part of my life. But I never did,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I tried to process the emotions running through me. I looked down at my hands, remembering how many times I remembered the night we fell asleep holding hands. How many times I'd wish to have him holding my hand. How many times I’d wished to have him there, just there—under the podium, sitting at the table in the place we'd chosen for him or in the airplane seat we'd booked just in case he could find a way to join us.

The memories hit me like a wave, washing over me with an intensity that I hadn't expected.

“You brought everything back. Good and bad,” I cut off and looked at him, my vision blurred by the tears in my eyes. Rage and pain sided with the fondness I felt for him. “There was no way I could have just kissed you and gone back to living my life like before.”

I hadn't realized Carlos had moved closer until I felt the warmth of his cologne and the weight of his hand on the cushion closer to me. My eyes wandered down to find his big hand next to mine, his fingers not daring to touch my skin. I looked up at him and he opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly raised my hand, asking for just one more second of his attention. His lips closed and his eyes squinted slightly as he waited patiently for me to continue.

My eyes hungrily lingered on his lips, my body fiercely battling against the strong desire to close the distance and kiss him at that very moment. I then looked up again, drawn in by his eyes that seemed to swallow me whole.

"I know it would ruin us if we just kissed.”

And then: silence.

Comfortable, but heavy. I’d let it out. There was nothing holding me back. I’d said it. My mind had finally unravelled itself and God, it felt good. He, though, was still holding everything inside. I could see it in his eyes, searching for mine, almost desperate.

To be honest, I didn’t know what I expected him to say.

But somehow, he knew what I was waiting for.

“Does this make me selfish?” I felt the tingle of his fingertips on my thigh, but I wasn’t able to look anywhere but his eyes. Carlos’ hand travelled up, fingers softly touching my arm, my whole body awakening in response.

“What?” I whispered, my eyes dropping for a second to look at his hand.

He waited for me to look up at him. Then, he answered. “Wanting you this badly.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say or do anything and the mere idea of looking away from him seemed wrong. His gaze held me captive, never leaving mine. Carlos gently took my chin between his thumb and index finger and his eyes darted downwards to my lips.

His thumb traced small circles near my bottom lip, each one coming closer. I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, making my heart flutter in anticipation. His thumb slid through the extension of my lip, coaxing it open, and I found myself gazing into his eyes, longing for him.

“Eva,” I closed my eyes for a brief moment, my head tilting at the sweet sound that was my name coming out of his mouth. “I don’t care how much I want you, how much I want this,” he stared hungrily at my mouth. I swallowed dry. “I won’t do anything that could taint a moment I’ve been waiting for so long.” He paused. “Years, Eva. I’ve been waiting for years. I can wait a couple more weeks.”

“No,” my hands wrapped around his forearm, holding it in place, reacting against the idea of losing that touch. “Don’t wait any longer,” I heard my own voice, yet it felt distant and unfamiliar.

Something shifted in his eyes. The sensation of his fingertips became warmer, the sensation of his heartbeat against my fingertips became more tangible and all of a sudden, I was more aware of myself and everything he made me feel—the effortless feeling of belonging, the immoral desperation he awakened inside me.

Dear God, how much I needed him.

My lips eagerly accepted his, driven by a need like no other. I needed him like water, like salvation for my desperate soul. The kiss was so gentle, but it still sent ripples of electricity through my body. So slow. Patient. Passionate. I felt my body tremble as his touch swept into my very being—the warmth of his lips and the brush of his tongue, the hands that so quickly travelled to find my waist and pull me closer, the inebriating effect of him. Purely him.

“Are we ruined yet?” He whispered against my lips.

“Not yet,” I felt him smile. My chest imploded on itself. “Kiss me again.”

“Gladly.”

With no hesitation, the distance between us was once again bridged. The intensity grew – his hands moved with urgency, pulling me into his lap, and mine followed suit, mapping a trajectory from his chest, along his shoulders, to the nape of his head and hooking around it, craving the intimacy of his proximity, of his touch.

I felt dizzy with the delight of being lost in his embrace.

And although it seemed like an eternity, one so easy to bear, I could only hope for it to be prolonged even more. Time seemed to stand still and the world around us faded away as I felt his lips tenderly brush against my own again and again. His hands were like a vice, holding me close as his tongue began to explore my body, from my mouth to my neck, tracing his way across my collarbones. His tongue was like velvet against my skin.

When we parted and I looked at him, a newfound intensity shone in his eyes. Carlos held me close, his thumb caressing my cheek softly, his eyes wandering from my eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes again. A gaze so intense, so powerful it could permeate through the barriers of my mind and read my thoughts.

Take me, I wanted to say. Make me yours.

Instead, I begged him in silence, eyes on his, while my fingers cruised towards the neck of his t-shirt and pulled it off in an exasperated attempt to fulfil the wishes I couldn’t bring myself to comprehend.

He was there, flesh and bone; his cologne inebriating me, his lips adoring my skin, his hands taking ownership of my body. But I needed more. As I glimpsed his bare chest, I couldn’t help but reach out and let my fingertips meet the tanned sculpted skin and slide them through it. So warm, almost burning.

Carlos kissed my shoulder, his lips making a trail along my neck and fingers pulling down the strands of the dress, which gracefully fell on my lap. Patiently, his hands traced the curves of my body, stopping when he reached my ass and, groping it, he pressed me against him. I felt my breath catch in my throat as he slowly moved his hand lower to my tights wrapped around him, tracing the curves of my hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

And then up again, roaming the line of my spine, stopping when his fingers met the string of my bikini. I slid my hair across my left shoulder, halting the golden waves from disturbing him.

His fingers left my back.

The tension of the string lessened.

A cocky smile appeared on his flushed lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“No.”

His eyes sparkled and his tongue wavered on his lips. I moved my hips in his lap, my hands on his biceps and slowly making their way towards his back.

“Neither do I, love. I wanna kiss every single inch of your skin,” he breathed the words on my skin. His lips moved to my neck, tasting me and pushing me further into him; in response, my body quivered and the grip of my fingers on his skin intensified.

The idea of marking his perfectly sculptured back made the arousal in me intensify to new heights; just thinking about it made my hips move on their own. God, how desperate. A moan slid through my lips when I felt him harden under me. He grunted, hands groping my ass and incentivising my movements.

“You smell so good,” I breathed in as his words met the skin of my chest. The faint touch of his nose traced lines on my chest until he stopped in the middle of my breasts. “I bet you taste even better.”

A breath escaped my lips when he eagerly grabbed my breast, slightly groping it before his thumb swiped away the fabric. My chest rose and fell with every brush of his lips against the skin that he so softly kissed. I slid my hands up to his hair after I untied the knot of the bikini at my back and removed my top.

My head fell back, taking in the last light of the day; lips parted, eyes closed. Fingers lost in the soft strands of his hair, holding his face closer to my chest. The waves roaring around us fell into silence as they rocked us into oblivion. From my lips, a whisper escaped —his name, in a way I'd never pronounced it before and my breath hitched when his tongue, moist and warm, reached my nipple. My voice was so light, it felt heavenly in my own ears. The grunt he let out confirmed to me that it had resonated in the same way with him.

“Eva,” I looked down, heart pounding in my chest. He was looking at me, eyes so dark they made me whimper.

“Hm?”

“We can’t do this, cariño. I wasn’t counting on this,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and pleasure.

His hands, now planted on the small of my back, sent a wave of warmth through me. I tilted my head. The idea of stepping back after feeling his body pressed against mine, after having a glimpse of what it would be like, was too much to bear. Almost incomprensible.

I just shook my head. “I’m—” I stumbled in my words, unable to ignore the feeling of his arousal against me. “We can… work it out, I guess.”

I wanted to explore the urgency and the energy that seemed to control us so effortlessly and find out where it could lead us. My lips met his once more and Carlos offered no resistance. On the contrary – his hands wrapped around my body once again. My own anticipation was building as I moved my hips in circles on his lap; his chest heaving in response.

It was too tempting to resist.

“Joder,” he said softly, his grip on my ass growing tight. “You’re going to make me cum in my trunks if you keep doing that.” His words were filled with a desire that I could feel in every inch of my body as if it was radiating from him.

“Ask me to stop, then.” Don’t. “I will.”

He closed his eyes and his hands moved to my waist, encircling it in a tight embrace as if to keep me still. I wanted him to let me keep going, to let me come on his lap and collapse into his chest. I tilted my head and looked at him, my confusion growing as I studied his countenance. He cupped my face after opening his eyes and I saw within them a myriad of emotions - darkness, strength; an almost lividness.

"I think I might be ruined," he said with a hint of resignation in his voice, but I could also sense an underlying tone of defiance, as if he didn't care what the consequences might be.

The world spun around me as he turned me around, laying my back on the sunbed. He stood as a silhouette against the sunset, his face nothing but intense shadows traced with gold. His lips met mine again and this time it was nothing like before. It was violent and passionate, full of hunger and desire, a wave of lust that swept away everything that was left in my mind.

Our bodies were a mess of passion and desire, too caught up in the moment to truly appreciate what we had. The feelings and emotions that had been stored inside me for so long were now being released, like a raging fire that threatened to consume me whole. The same energy was emanating from him; his hands and lips clung to me with the same intensity I wanted to plunge in myself.

I drowned in the moment, basking in him, his essence, his touch and his voice that spoke so deeply in my ear.

"What should I do to you?" He whispered before biting my earlobe.

“Everything,” I said, my voice a whisper. “Do everything.”

He chuckled softly and his embrace tightened around me, enveloping me in his warmth. I felt his lips gently brush against my neck and then move down to the curve of my shoulder and the swell of my breasts. His hands moved up and down my figure, as if he wanted to remember every curve and line of my body.

A trace of fire seemed to course through the same lines he traced, moving lower and lower. In response, my muscles contracted and goosebumps appeared over my skin. I had to take a deep breath when he reached my belly and his fingers traced small circles there instead of continuing lower.

"Everything, huh?" A husky voice left his lips before he planted a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin of my abdomen. I could feel myself melting into the fabric of the sunbed beneath us, as his fingers explored further and his lips followed behind them slowly. "What about we start with this?" He continued, lust in his eyes as he looked up at me.

I could come from the view alone—his deep brown eyes looking intently into mine; his shoulders pushing my legs further apart and carving a place for himself in the gap between them. The sensation of his beard in between my thighs sent a shiver through my body, the prickly sensation making me succumb to his touch. The way he groaned when my fingers ventured into his hair, pulling on the dark strands the second I felt his fingers inside me.

Each time he looked up, lips glistening with my own pleasure and eyes as dark as I have ever seen them, I thought I was imprisoned in some wet dream.

It was ridiculous the way my body reacted to him.

My hips moved up, trying to get more of the pleasure he was offering me and he promptly responded to my movements and demands; his tongue leaving faster and fingers working inside me as if his only purpose was to please me. God. His persistence made my body tremble and my lips part each time the pleasure metamorphosed itself into moans and whimpers.

In front of me, his torso was elevated and the broad shoulders and torso cast a long shadow over me. All at once, his hands were gone and the emptiness his fingers left behind made me whimper softly. He leaned down, his hand sliding to my neck, thumb pressing lightly against my chin.

“I was right, you know?” With a gentle force, he made me look up at him. “You taste so good.”

When he kissed me, I could feel it in my own mouth. Honey and wine and me. On this man’s lips.

I heard the muffled thud of his trunks hitting the floor and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of his aroused state; his erection was a deep crimson and in a state of need. I felt my own desperation rising and tried to press my thighs together in an attempt to quell it. Carlos’ lips curved in a smile and his hand searched for mine, pulling it to his hardness; his large, strong hand enveloping my own, guiding me to provide him with the pleasure he sought. My other hand moved to my own pleasure, my fingers desperately trying to fill the hollow Carlos had left.

“If you only knew how many times I've done this alone,” he said, “thinking of you. Wishing for you.”

His slender fingers entwined with my own, sending a thrill through me as he demonstrated his desire. I felt my own growing with each passing moment, desperation rising inside of me; a deep and primal passion taking hold.

“Please,” my voice elevated itself over his.

"Please, what?" I sighed, my head leaning to the side in a plea. Carlos grabbed my wrist and forced my hand to rest on top of my thigh. "Use your words," he said firmly. "Tell me what you need."

I could feel my body quivering, my need for him tangible. I wanted him. I needed him. I needed to end this longing and this need my body was screaming to get rid of. "I need you," I said softly, my hips moving down to make the need even clearer. He let go of my hands but still stayed close, his pre-cum clammy on my fingers.

"You know what that means," Carlos murmured, his body hovering above me. He supported his weight by placing a hand next to my head.

My eyes pleaded with him. "Carlos, please," I begged. More than anything else, I wanted him to know that this was not a mere request but a desperate plea for him to fill the void I was feeling.

He didn't let me wait for long. In one swift move, he was inside me and I gasped at the sudden pleasure. His hands moved from my waist to my hips, pulling me closer to him and I could feel his length entering me further and further. He was as needy as me.

Slow, steady thrusts that made my body and soul melt into his.

Each movement or brush of the wind against my skin had a different effect on me. Pleasure rose with each passing moment. My hands reached for his shoulder, my nails digging into his flesh, desperate to hold on.

The hoarse moans he let out resonated deep in my bones, fueling my own.

His thrusts became more urgent, pushing a little further each time in a rhythm completely new to me, yet feeling like it had been written in my veins since birth. Pleasure slowly built up until I was sure I couldn't take anymore, until it felt like the desperation rooted deep inside of me was unravelling each seam of my body, longing for escape, for relief. When the moment came, it simultaneously felt like being pulled under the waves and the first breath of fresh air after staying underwater. I felt the tension snap and uncoil slowly like molasses, chipping away at my consciousness until I was light enough to float with the breeze. All I could see were stars, efflorescent in the purple haze of the sky. All I could feel was him, solid and present and only mine in this very moment. I couldn't help but call out his name.

"Just a bit longer, love," he said. "Just need a bit more. Can you take it?"

In response, I just nodded, my eyes still closed, taken by my own bliss. My cries of joy echoed through the night, growing louder and more intense as he continued relentlessly, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of euphoria. I felt like I could come again, the sensations never-ending. With each stroke, I felt myself tremble with pleasure and my breath came in desperate gasps as I tried to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts.

An emptiness struck me when he pulled away quickly, a whimper escaping my lips at the right instant. I slightly opened my eyes, admiring him in between my lashes. The wistful look on his face, his parted lips, his eyes that didn't leave my body for a second. His fist wrapped around his erection as he jerked himself to completion sending a shot of lust through me.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed. "So beautiful."

He groaned again, and I felt the heat of his orgasm on my belly. He looked down at it with awe. A smirk painted his lips. Eyes dark with lust.

My fingers gripped his shoulders as he bent his head to kiss me. Our lips touched, once, twice—soft kisses that became more intense, deeper, hungry. His tongue danced with mine, a tango of passion and need. His tongue danced with mine, helpless and desperate. I wrapped my fingers around his back and dug into his skin. A shudder ran through him under my hands. His cock was still between us, stiffening again as he kissed me. The smell of sex and male musk was thick in the air and I couldn't help but feel intoxicated by it.

He pulled back to see my face and caught his breath at the sight of me. A smirk spread across his lips as he rolled off me slowly as if just realizing what we had done. His eyes darkened with lust as he traced the patch of wetness on my belly with his finger.

"What the hell did we just do?"

I felt my heart race at the simple words and my stomach flutter at the intensity of his gaze.

"I believe we just ruined us for good.”

"Oh," he got closer still, pushing me to him and wrapping me in his arms. My body settled comfortably in his embrace, my skin finding warmth in his chest. "Not for good, love; just until we do this again."

I don’t know how much time we spent like that, catching our breaths and allowing the pleasure to slowly dissipate until all that was left was the warmth of his embrace and the sound of the waves crashing against the shell of the boat, but I was sure I could live in that moment forever.

Sooooooooooo, that happened. As always, this is the part where I thank you for all the support and please never stop speaking your mind. I love reading your reactions! And send me questions if you have some!! First (of many) smutty chapters. Hope you enjoyed it.

Happy Easter to those who celebrate! As always, sending you all the love!

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