I have no idea who's been tagged and who hasn't been, who's writing and who's not but if you see this, feel free to play along!
words posted: 6,425
additional written words: 11,497
grand total of words: 17,922 (i think)
fandoms: the wayhaven chronicles
highest kudos: guiltily i haven't posted on ao3
highest hit oneshot: i think these count but from the ashes and shining, shimmering, splendid from the summer in wayhaven event
new things i tried: writing Falk as an LI! making an AU and in general posting my writing and sharing it with the lovely fandom <3
fic i spent the most time on: probably shining, shimmering, splendid (of if we're talking unposted, cross your fingers, tell me it's forever)
fic i spent the least time on: probably cool for the summer or from the ashes
favorite thing i wrote: if i had to choose Shining, Shimmering, Splendid wins but writing for UB was such a fun experience
favorite thing(s) i read (not a ranked list):
(not) written in the stars by @fauville i'm a sucker for a polymance and this has it all! the denial, the tension, the longing. while nate watches on as charlie and adam come to terms with what they feel
touching, tangling, intertwined by @serenpedac i feel for yael between adam and nate! it's such an intricate situation and a disconnect where nate's hoping for connection (while adam's suffering), not to mention where morgan comes in!
end of the line by @mornynge angst with more angst but i live for it! i feel it's realistic with the resentment and how when the lt route progresses, adam and nate's friendship will have a decline
possibly, maybe by @delfi0re I love a good au and how the characters can be put in different roles, how even in other circumstances they still meet! and it's a coffee shop au, I can't resist and it's just the sweetest!
you're on your own, kid by @thee-morrigan I always love to see the complicated relationship with rebecca explored and how holland feels about her and how the conflict happens with holland and nate because of it!
these are just ones off the top of my head and some searching! there are probably more I can't put my finger on and I fear I need to catch up on twc fics
writing goals for 2026:
Finishing Cross your fingers, tell me it's forever
Posting all my wip
Expanding on the Falk/Cherise/Nate AU
Attempting to do more prompts
Writing a fic entirely from Falk's pov (gulp)
All in all, just writing what I like and sharing it!
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fandom: the wayhaven chronicles
pairing: ava du mortain x f!detective (cecilia beck)
words: 2,098
rating: explicit
read it on ao3
“Again,” Ava barked.
Cecilia groaned from her spot sprawled along the mats covering the hard floor. Even with the added cushion, she swore every bone in her body jostled at every rough impact. “Ava, please,” she whined. “Have a little mercy.”
Clearly, that response was not well received judging how Ava crouched over her, seriousness hardening her already icy gaze. “Do you think Trappers will have mercy? Or rogue supernaturals? Do you think they’ll see you’re tired and offer a water break?” She scoffed.
“No need to be rude,” she grumbled.
Her face softened at that and she held out her hand, which Cecilia took begrudgingly. Ava planted her hands on either arm, steadying her in place. “You are more than capable. I’ve seen it. But this is still important.” The look that lingered on her face told Cecilia the unspoken words reeling behind that thick skull of Ava’s.
I can’t risk losing you .
One hand rose to cup Cecilia’s cheek, a calloused thumb brushing along plush skin. Cecilia covered Ava’s hand with her own. A few uninterrupted heartbeats passed between them before she spoke.
“I’ll do it again, but you have to reward me afterward.”
Ava raised a brow. Her grasp dropped, loosely holding Cecilia’s hips. “And what might that be?”
Cecilia grinned and tapped her lips. “I think I deserve a little kiss, don’t you?”
With a snort, Ava rolled her eyes. “I would hardly call that a reward.”
“Why? You think you’re a bad kisser?” she paused. “Or are you calling me a bad kisser?”
“I am saying neither.”
“Then what?”
“I kiss you all the time. Shouldn’t a reward be something…special?” She shrugged.
It was Cecilia’s turn to appear suspicious. “Special?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “If a kiss is what you desire, then a kiss it is. Get in position.”
Cecilia huffed but did as she was told.
She took her place on the mat, bending her knees like she had been instructed. Her fists were hovered in front of her, ready for whatever may lie ahead. In mission-related circumstances what lay ahead was unknown. But in the training room, it just meant Ava flipping her onto her back in every way but the one she wanted.
Ava stood across from her, posture mimicking Cecilia’s, as she was mulling over what way to attack this time around. Whatever it was, she would handle it because by god did Cecilia think she deserved at least a little kiss for all her hard work.
She shook her head, clearing away all the thoughts that weren’t focused on the situation at hand. Even though it was hard not to be distracted by the way Ava’s exposed abdomen rippled with every moment and how her creamy skin was glistening with sweat. Cecilia truly was so brave for sparring with her insanely sexy girlfriend and not jumping her bones the moment Ava had peeled off her t-shirt.
Her determination to not get distracted almost caused her to miss the first indication of Ava’s step-off. Luckily, Cecilia dodged just in time. She could feel the air of Ava’s hands blow by her with centimeters to spare.
Cecilia knew she had little luck going on the offensive. Even if she was more than capable of handling herself in a fight, one with a vampire—especially one such as Ava—was a battle rarely won in making the first move.
Ava flew towards her again and Cecilia ducked but managed to get a foot out to send Ava tumbling to the ground. Much to her disdain, she fell too as Ava’s hand wrapped around her leg.
Cecilia swore loudly, but her fall thankfully was cushioned by Ava. They both huffed and puffed heavily for a few seconds before Cecilia planted her hands on Ava’s clavicle to push herself up to make eye contact. And the moment she did, Cecilia busted out into a fit of giggles.
Rolling her eyes, Ava let her head fall back against the mat, but the amused grin pulling at her lips couldn’t be denied nor could the way her hands immediately found Cecilia’s waist. She shivered at the added heat sliding against her already flush skin. Dressed in her small workout shorts and a sports bra, a lot of skin was left exposed to Ava’s touch. A factor she seemed to be taking advantage of.
“Do I get my kiss now?” she breathed, suddenly desperate for it.
Hazy eyes drifted over her face lazily as the tips of her fingers dug into her skin. “Come here then.”
Cecilia lurched forward, hands coming to press against either side of Ava’s head to hold herself steady. There was no time wasted as their lips found each other. Her long ponytail fell over a shoulder, the ends tickling Ava’s neck, though she made no indication of it bothering her.
Instead, the hands that had been kneading her hips were beginning to slide up Cecilia’s back to teasingly play with the strappy back of her bra.
“Ava,” she whispered against her lips.
A soft hum was her only reply.
Cecilia could feel that familiar need growing within her. She tried to adjust herself to quench it but slipped and ended up slotted against one of Ava’s raised thighs.
The immediate friction shot through her, making her gasp, nails digging into the mat.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Ava who could most definitely feel the heat of her arousal pressed against her leg now. “Something wrong, love?” she murmured, lips beginning to venture over her jaw to the curve of Cecilia’s neck. And to be a real brat, Ava moved her leg a fraction, smirking at the way Cecilia jolted.
“Fuck,” she wheezed. “I-I just lost my balance and now you’re teasing.” Cecilia struggled to try and begin to stand—until two strong hands caught her, holding her in place.
“Who said I was teasing?”
Her eyes widened. “Anyone could walk in.”
Ava’s eyes were becoming dark with desire. “Guess we’ll just have to be quick then.” With her grip, she dragged Cecilia’s hips along her thigh making her sputter a surprised moan.
“Fuck, Ava ,” she whined, beginning to aid her by moving on her own. Cecilia was still hunched over her. The top layer of the mats was beginning to give way and peel from the way her nails were still digging into them.
Pleasure was radiating through her entire body from the way she ground against Ava’s thigh. The ridges of muscle adding extra sensation with every movement of her hips.
When Cecilia’s hips were beginning to stutter in their rhythm, Ava took over once again, not once being merciful in her pace. Like before, her fingers were digging into her flesh, this time hard enough that there would be bruises left behind. But Cecilia loved it.
Ava bombarded her exposed throat with kisses, sucking on the skin until a dark mark was left behind. She liked to mark what was hers. They had been through hell and back to get to this point, no one was going to take what was hers now.
Cecilia couldn’t stop Ava’s name from falling from her lips as the tension grew. She wasn’t going to last much longer with Ava’s viscous pace and the attention being paid to the sensitive areas of her neck.
“Come for me,” she rumbled against her skin.
She whined some incoherent response as Ava pressed her leg further against Cecilia’s crotch. That last bit of added pressure was what she needed to send her over the edge.
Ava sat up right as Cecilia collapsed against her chest in a trembling mess, kissing the top of her head. “My sweet girl,” she praised but the words were lost as the sound of rushing blood filled her ears.
She panted softly, slumped against Ava as she came down from her climax, enjoying the gentle hand brushing over her hair.
“Was that enough of a reward?” Ava murmured into her ear, making Cecilia huff a laugh.
“I like this new training strategy,” she mused.
“If we’re giving out rewards, I think I deserve one too for putting up with you.”
Cecilia drew back, eyebrows raised. But she wasn’t able to say anything before Ava scooted her off her thigh and onto the mats.
She pointed to her cotton shorts with a very obvious wet spot on one leg. Cecilia’s face heated immediately. “You made such a mess. I think I should be allowed to clean it up.”
Her lips parted as she eagerly nodded, not trusting her words.
Ava moved to kneel in front of her, easing Cecilia’s back against the mat before hooking her fingers beneath the waistband of her soiled shorts. They hooked onto her knees and Ava pushed her legs back against Cecilia’s chest. “Hold them there.”
Cecilia’s view was obstructed by the fabric, but she could feel Ava’s rough thumbs parting her and her hot breath fan over her skin. And then she felt the flat of her tongue drag up the length of her sex. It was agonizingly slow and she just avoided her clit making Cecilia squirm in frustration as she did it again.
“This is one mess I don’t mind cleaning up,” she teased, clearly knowing Cecilia’s agony of not yet getting what she wanted.
“Ava,” she whined in protest, but the vampire ignored her, going back to her teasing licks.
She chuckled when Cecilia huffed dramatically, finally appeasing her by circling her tongue around her swollen clit.
The suddenness of it made Cecilia moan before a hand clamped over her mouth and green eyes were piercing into hers. “Quiet, love. You live in a place crawling with people with extra sensitive hearing.”
Her eyes widened making Ava smirk. She hadn’t even considered that. God forbid if someone heard and came to investigate. Especially if it was Farah who came in to find Cecilia with her shorts pulled to her knees and Ava’s head between her legs in the middle of the training room—she’d never live it down.
Ava went back to her task at hand, wrapping her lips around Cecilia’s clit, sucking and licking until her back was arching. She knew just how to drive Cecilia nuts. The steady pressure moved into her tongue lapping desperately at her wet heat as if she had never had a meal in her life.
She was already sensitive from her first orgasm and a second one was approaching fast.
“Close,” she panted. “Ava, I’m so close.”
Cecilia couldn’t tell if Ava was trying to look at her face from her pants blocking her view. She knew she had heard her desperate cries and could feel her walls convulsing around her tongue. Ava pulled her hips harder against her mouth, face shaking side to side as she was speared on her tongue, nose bumping against her clit with each motion.
For the second time, her muscles began to quiver. Cecilia nearly sobbed as her grip on her legs loosened, Ava having to catch them to keep her spread open as she finished. Her chest heaved and her hips jolted every time Ava caught her overstimulated clit with her lips or tongue. It didn’t deter Ava from taking her time in coming up for air.
When she finally did, the bottom half of her face glistened with Cecilia’s wetness. And the prideful grin on her face was enough to make Cecilia smile. Though the moment was short-lived as Ava tensed and cocked her head to the door.
“Someone’s coming,” she hissed standing so fast it made Cecilia’s eyes spin. Ava hoisted her onto her jelly legs and pulled her pants up quickly, patting her ass for good measure.
“Your face.” Cecilia grinned, leaning against her side for support.
Ava’s eyes sparkled in recognition as she quickly dragged her forearm over her mouth and chin to try and rid herself of any evidence.
It was just in time too as the door opened to reveal Morgan.
She looked uninterested in the two already in the room, towel slung over her shoulder as she made her way to one of the wooden dummies. But then she paused and sniffed the air.
“Why the fuck does it smell like sex in here?” she asked, turning to the couple.
Ava shrugged, face a mask of indifference.
“It’s probably just you,” Cecilia remarked.
Morgan thought for a second, then sniffed her shirt. “Whatever.” She turned away from them, once more uninterested.
It was all she could do to hold back her laughter as Ava hauled her out of the room.
12. pushing a strand of hair behind their ear for minter <3
ty lyu <3 i lyuve u, pls have some eyeliner!mason in multiple senses of the term
touch prompts: pushing a strand of hair behind their ear (accepting)
pairing: the wayhaven chronicles | mason x f!detective (winter collins)
rating: g
words: ~700
summary: applying your lover’s eyeliner is an intricate ritual idk (no demo spoilers)
Winter sighs as she looks at her reflection. A much paler, unsettled version of herself stares back at her in her warehouse bedroom mirror.
She’s not used to dressing up, but tonight she and Mason are attending a benefit hosted by the mayor. The invitation stated “cocktail attire,” which is why she is now fidgeting in a simple black sheath dress.
She desperately hopes it is understated enough to not draw attention to herself. Small talk is not her strong suit: Winter is—as others, including her mother, have helpfully pointed out—a bit too earnest to follow the detached and stilted conversations that happen at events like this.
Between her own agitation and worry about the event overwhelming Mason, she can’t wait for this night to be over already.
And it hasn’t even begun.
Winter runs a nervous hand through her hair. Waves fall haphazardly around her face as her eyes scan the dresser below her mirror.
Specifically, the open makeup bag that seems to taunt her.
As much as formalwear is a rarity for her, makeup is even more so. Tina has occasionally given her ‘makeovers,’ but those often leave her face feeling suffocated and her eyes heavy in too much mascara. Those...looks haven’t made her keen to experiment with makeup herself, but she is pretty sure that a benefit like this requires it.
Picking up an old kohl eyeliner pencil, she takes a deep breath, leans closer to the mirror, tries tracing her lash line, and—
“OW!”
Mason appears in her doorway within moments, brows furrowed, but the concern on his face soon flickers to amusement when he realises she’s not injured. Winter offers him a sheepish grin as he saunters inside.
He stands in front of her and takes in her flustered state, grey eyes assessing her mussed hair, failed attempt at eyeliner, and watering eye.
“You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asks as he tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Winter sighs into the touch, eyes fluttering shut briefly, and grasps his hand, holding it in place against her cheek.
“I...I’m really not looking forward to this,” she admits.
Mason nods. “It’ll probably suck.”
She laughs at that and ducks her head a bit. “It probably will. Thanks for coming anyway.” Winter moves his hand away from her cheek to press a kiss to his palm.
As she lets go of his hand, Mason surprises her by sweeping his thumb over her cheekbone; he hovers near the corner of her eye where her eyeliner is smudged.
“Do you want some help with that?”
Only then does Winter notice that he is wearing (flawlessly executed) eyeliner himself. She had been too distracted by the sight of him in a suit to register it before. Heat rises to her cheeks, earning her a smug smile from Mason, and she nods.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Winter says, gesturing to the makeup bag.
“Then it’s lucky that I do. Close your eyes.”
Mason drags his thumb over her eyelid, rubbing gently. Her eyes still closed, she feels him pull his hand away only to return with the eyeliner pencil. He moves quickly but steadily, the pencil gliding across her lash line. She feels his thumb mirror its earlier movements on her other eyelid.
It’s hypnotic: His hands resting on her face, his breath tickling her cheek. He stands close enough that she feels his body heat. Winter is vaguely aware of him saying something about mascara and how it’s better if her eyes are open, but that’s “a bitch if somebody else is applying it for you, so keep ‘em closed.” She hums in response.
Mason eventually drops his hands from her face. “Open.”
She turns to look at herself in the mirror. Smoky eyes look back at her, though hers are more subtle than his. No makeover from Tina could ever compare—especially not to the feeling of his hands cradling her face.
Mason comes to stand next to Winter, draping an arm about her shoulders, and watches their reflections. “We look good.”
author’s note: my original intention was to do a post-bakery, heartbreak moment for mason and I started this before the demo updated, but needed to change it since and hopefully it still works. I have no idea if I’ll do a part 2, my original plans don’t spark joy atm, and I was tired of seeing this in my WIPs xD. very minor book 3 spoilers (allusions but no specific mentions). enjoy!
*thank you @silma-words for giving this a read-through all those months ago when i was stuck and to @narrativefoiltrope for the parentheses suggestion!
copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames.
series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – mason x f!detective (ria knight)
rating/warnings: 16+; swearing, angst
word count: 1.7k
summary: ria wants to end things with mason before she catches feelings for someone who won’t return them. mason isn’t sure what he wants but knows he doesn’t want to give up what they have.
no feelings
mason just stared at the door to ria’s office, the shades obscuring the sight of her but he could still hear the sound of her heartbeat. solid and steady, like her.
he didn’t know why he said what he did. he just knew that she was hurt, even though she pretended not to be. and even though he wanted to talk to her, he didn’t know what he wanted to say.
it didn’t matter though, seeing as how she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to him anytime soon.
but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.
he knocked, hesitantly. once. twice.
“come in,” a voice called out, loud to his senses, vibrating ever so slightly.
he opened the door and paused in the doorway, eyes searching hers for permission.
her head rose from where it had been resting on her arms, fists clenching once she noticed him. she lowered her hands to her lap, but mason had no doubt that her knuckles were white.
“what do you want?” she asked, her features stitching together a mask of indifference.
but he could see the truth in her light blue eyes. it was his special skill after all, being able to read people and get the truth from them.
a skill he tried to avoid using with ria as much as possible for some reason.
when did that happen?
even now, as he was holding her gaze, he knew he wasn’t trying to read her. but he could still sense that something was off. and he wanted, no needed, to figure out what it was.
the silence between them grew as ria’s gaze shifted. she looked expectantly at him. “well? if you don’t have anything new to report on the case, you should leave. i have a lot of work to do.”
he shook his head, a force of habit. he really didn’t know what to say.
she glanced away, eyes flitting across the posters and papers pinned to the wall next to her desk, but mason could see the gears turning in her mind. when she turned back to look at him, the pain from before was replaced by a newfound intensity that slammed into him and sent a prickly, but still pleasant, tingle across his chest and down his arms.
a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as her eyes appraised him, and not unlike the first time they flirted, the motion sent something warm and soothing down south. as her eyes met his again, the warmth turned into a simmering heat and he took a step forward, her darkened irises drawing him in.
he raised an eyebrow at her. while he was no stranger to the constant attraction between them, which pushed and pulled like the tides but always met each other at dusk and dawn, it didn’t seem like the time.
for once, he wanted to talk.
“look, about what i said before,” he started, folding his arms across his chest.
ria made her way around her desk until she was standing in front of him. “you were right. you made it clear that you were only interested in fun, and i agreed,” she shrugged, tapping her fingers lightly on his chest.
his brow furrowed. while he did say something to that affect, it wasn’t what he wanted.
“that’s all this is and all it’s going to be, so i’ll see you later at my apartment?” ria asked pointedly, her lip curling into a smirk.
a frustrated rumble crouched low in the back of his throat. “i never said that this is all it’s going to be,” he snapped, flinching at the volume of his own voice.
ria didn’t move a muscle. her light blue eyes had darkened to a cloudy grey, only a few shades lighter than his own.
“you didn’t have to, sunshine. i’m saying it. so am i seeing you later or not?” she asked, the glare on her face reminding him of the daggers she had hidden under her jacket sleeves.
an uncomfortable itch started in his belly and he subconsciously scratched at the fabric of his shirt, blunt nails digging in harder before he realized the itch was under his skin.
and it was spreading. traveling up toward his chest and out before making its way down his arms. leaving behind a tiny, circular weight in his stomach that he didn’t care for.
he could recognize it for what it was, a form of conflict. swirling counter-clockwise as a hurricane does when it approaches shore. but he didn’t understand why it was there.
what he did understand is that if she wanted to see him, he wanted to see her.
he gave her a slow nod. “i’ll see you later,” he said, hesitating for a brief second with his hand on the doorknob.
he glanced back at her and said softly, “sweetheart.”
~
against her better judgment, ria met mason’s gaze before he left, the murmured pet name on his lips seeming to glide through the air and hit her in the chest. her body slumped back against the desk as he left, energy draining out of her and leaving behind the tempestuous grey look now seared in her mind. his words left an uncomfortable lump in her throat, and she hoped no one else came into her office.
she looked at the clock, a feeble attempt to fast-forward to the end of the day, only for her shoulders to sag at the realization that she basically still had eight hours to go. despite the tension in their earlier conversation and the uncomfortable moments they’ve had since breakfast, ria wasn’t mad at mason.
even though she had stormed out while trying to blink back tears and then he stormed away from her after finding out about bobby, she didn’t blame him.
no, the only person she was fucking pissed off at was herself.
it wasn’t supposed to get this far.
she wasn’t good with feelings. it was always easier to push away any uncomfortable thoughts or emotions by keeping her body physically distracted, preferably with either a partner in the gym or a partner in her bed.
learning how to box and working her way through all the various martial art forms gave her focus after quitting ballet.
(though it did little to quell the feelings of inadequacy caused by things completely out of her control.)
teaching herself how to use knives and rook’s family dagger was a welcome distraction after she was forced to abandon her aspirations to join the army.
(though digging through rook’s old stuff in the attic in desperate protest – to find anything that would tell her he would’ve supported her – only drowned her in the loss.)
flirting and sleeping with every person who showed interest in her and seemed even an inch better than bobby fucking marks.
(though every little fling, whether a one-night stand or a string of awkward first dates, only added supporting evidence to the story she told herself that no one would stick around for her.)
and it was supposed to be the same with mason.
no strings. no baggage. no goddamn feelings.
ria gripped the edge of her desk with her hands until her knuckles turned white. she already broke her first rule of dating: don’t catch feelings.
you can’t get hurt if there aren’t feelings involved, she reminded herself of the mantra that got her out of several attempts at relationships after breaking up with bobby.
but she could still implement her second rule.
~
instead of heading back to the warehouse right away, mason wandered toward the trees bordering the station that offered a shady respite from the scorching sun against his sensitive skin.
the heat was only going to get worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. even in the dark shade of the trees around him, the sun burned against his skin almost as if it were bare. he winced, not even wanting to think about how much worse it might feel if he wasn’t at least wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
they still needed to work together.
he pushed the seemingly random thought out of his mind as quickly as it had appeared, his body reacting viscerally in disagreement to the sentiment.
this wasn’t about maintaining a working relationship with ria.
this was bigger than that.
at least, he assumed, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.
he lit a cigarette, trying to distract from how his shirt is quickly becoming an incubator for the heat. smoke curled upward as he leaned his head back against the trunk of a tree.
he was always in it for the fun. it made traveling around and the downtime between missions more bearable.
he didn’t really care for hobbies and interests the way nate and felix did. and he could only take a beating from adam every so often.
having fun, especially with humans – who were so easy to rile up and even easier to read – made the endless time pass in a way that felt normal. for him anyway.
learning all the different ways he could elicit sounds from them. figuring out how quickly he could make them peak. knowing exactly what to do to leave them wanting more.
he took a long drag of the cigarette, closing his eyes and wishing the burn in his lungs would linger a little longer. it numbed the burn on the outside of his body.
but no feelings. that always took the fun out of things.
that was the rule.
and ria was fun, there was no denying that. maybe even the most fun he’s had in a very long time.
she knew his rule. hell, it was her rule too.
it was the perfect situation for him.
maybe he didn’t want to lose out on such an ideal situation. or mess up the team dynamic.
he dumped the cigarette butt onto the floor and put out the embers with his shoe.
whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t ready for things with her to end.
Summary: Fresh out of highschool and into college, Zuri sequesters herself in her dorm room with a flag in her hands. One that doesn't feel the same.
Warnings: Subtle mention of comp het and an innuendo made by non other than Bobby Marks
Prompt: Flags for @wayhavensummer
-
There was a hollow ache in her chest. Something pulsing and shuffling inside her ribcage. She was flat on her back, her legs dangling off of the twin bed in her shared dorm room. It was darker than it was before, the only source of light entering from the small windows on either side of the room. Soft pinks and blues filtering through the window and dancing along the poster-covered, white walls from the party happening just outside. Bass ricocheted off the walls and into her ears, and yet it couldn't distract her from her racing mind.
It had been four years. Four years since she attended her first pride parade and grew confident in her identity. Four years since she was surrounded by joy and acceptance for a week, where nothing existed outside of celebrating herself and those around her. Her smile and her laughter had been more genuine than they had been in years. She was welcomed home with open arms.
She bought a flag that day. Soft, satin material. Shades of red and pink on either side of a white bar, sitting in her hands. It used to be her salvation. A lighthouse in the raging storm of feelings she couldn't sit down in front of her and analyze. She couldn't talk down something that drowned out rational thought, something that had fire in its throat and breathed flames and demanded to be heard. But this flag cooled prickling heat and cut through the grey clouds.
So much has changed since then. Al moved back to the city. Zuri was in college now and everything about it was new and challenging and she grabbed it by the horns. New didn't scare her.
But the flag felt heavy now, a crushing weight of guilt. It was difficult to raise her arm and wave it through the air when it no longer felt right. When it no longer felt like clarity and comfort. The label that once fit snugly against her body had warped somehow. She never thought it could shrink and enlarge the way it did. That the collar could wrap around her throat and squeeze. That the sleeves could fall past her fingertips and graze the floor, leaving her fumbling to grasp onto something solid and stumbling with every step that she took.
She didn't think there would be more mountain to climb. The journey was supposed to be over, wasn't it?
But how could it be when she could still feel the flutters of attraction towards men? When she could still long for them the way she longs for women? When femininity and masculinity can exist in both and in neither, simultaneously and exclusively, and she could find herself loving any of it in any form?
She could only allow herself to think that those feelings were forced for so long. The heart doesn't lie, and hers wanted to be with someone who goes weak-kneed at her attention and sends electricity down her spine. She wouldn't lose any sleep if she found that in a man.
And that terrified her.
Some people weren't as nice if you came out twice; some would see her as a living, breathing stereotype. Wayhaven's indifference towards sexuality wouldn't be enough to lift the guilt off of her shoulders.
She wasn't sure how she could go about doing this again. Another big announcement? Simply explaining herself if she found herself on the arm of a man? What if she went to pride in the city again? How was she supposed to see the same faces and let them see her covered in different colours? What would they think?
She frowned and lifted the flag, holding it out in front of her. Her vision blurred as her thumbs caressed the satin. What would Al think?
The door swung open. Zuri jolted, the tears collecting on her eyelids falling before she could stop them, rolling down her cheeks and to her ears as she held the flag tightly to her chest. She froze and dragged her gaze away from the ceiling to the door, letting out a small noise of confusion at who she saw.
Bobby Marks was leaning against the door frame, glancing at the bed on the other side of the room with a grin. It faltered at its vacancy before widening when his eyes landed on her. "Where's that gorgeous roommate of yours?"
She shifted, subtly wiping the tears away on the duvet while answering, "Riley?"
"That's her bed, isn't it?"
"With the amount of times her boyfriend crashes in here, it could be his."
"Boyfriend," he muttered with a frown. She winced, gathering up an apology for crushing whatever hopes he had with her before pausing at the sudden change in demeanor. His brow was raised, lips stretching into a smirk as he glanced at the bed again. "Those two are a couple of edgy rulebreakers, aren't they?"
Her eyes widened. That was an awfully chilly tone directed at someone he seemed to have some interest in.
"You didn't think to tell on them?"
Zuri shook her head, putting her index and thumb together to make a zipping motion over her lips. He chuckled and stepped into the room, stopping when her gaze snapped to his feet. She barely knew him and it looked like he was gearing up to get cosy, as if she even allowed him in. He just walked in on her crying. God that's terrible, terrible timing-
He held his palms up, his smirk edging towards something more sheepish. "You're Zuri Jackson, right?"
She nodded with an affirmative hum.
"You don't seem as smiley as people say you are. Or talkative," he said with the slightest tilt of his head. "But you're gorgeous and good at keeping secrets, which makes you good in my books."
She hummed again, offering as charming a smile as she could muster at the compliment before turning her head and gazing out the window, her eyes following a group of her classmates strolling past the window.
"I'm heading out there soon, you should join me."
Zuri just barely held back a short laugh as she turned to him. Should.
"I could use the company," he continued, dragging his gaze down her body before returning it to her face, his smirk fading slightly as he lingered on her eyes. "And you look like you could use the distraction."
She laughed, hoping it sounded genuine enough, and sat up, staring at the flag for one last time. "You have no idea."
She looked up and inhaled sharply when she was met with an outstretched hand. She followed the length of his arm before stopping at his face (was that a smolder?), intrigue and amusement curling her features into a lopsided smile and a raised brow.
"I don't remember letting you in."
"I don't remember you protesting," he said, shooting her a charming grin. "And now I'm giving you the honor of being my date to this party."
Zuri laughed, shaking her head and taking his hand before pressing her own to her chest in faux enchantment. "Oh, what an incredible honor. I can hardly believe it. Truly, a sweet, charitable deed."
He smirked, pulling her to her feet and leaning towards her. "The deeds I plan to do with you are nowhere near sweet."
"Ha!" She ripped her hand away before walking past him. "Don't even think about it."
The boy was practically a stranger (a cocky yet weirdly charming stranger), but she'd rather hang out with him at a party than sit in her festering guilt. If she had it her way, she'd return too exhausted to think, pass out and wake up with everything solved. But there was still more mountain to climb, and she wasn't sure when she'd be ready to face it again.
New didn't scare her, but the familiarity of the closet did.
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Kiss Prompt – A Kiss on the Nose (please send me more!)
Pairing: Farahx f!Detective (Annie Tomás)
Word Count: ~800
Annie had a stressful week.
“–Then we couldn’t find some receipts for a stupid paper shipment! We looked everywhere for it. I had Douglas and some volunteers digging through boxes in storage, I dug through every file we had–!”
Farah sits across from Annie at their favorite table by the window. By the time they got to Haley’s Bakery, the sun already sat beneath the horizon. Now, the Square’s streetlights bathe the cobblestone street in a soft, gentle glow, and the last dregs of purple sky slink away.
“I’m not even good with numbers!” Annie says as she shoves her face into her hands. “I thought I could do it since I had the entire week but it just…slipped away from me.”
Frustration leaked into Annie’s voice though she tried to stem it by biting down on her bottom lip… a little too hard, evident by the blood that came to the surface. Farah’s breath hitches, and she can’t help but tense the slightest in her seat. The blood is swiped away by Annie’s tongue before she brings her mug to her lips.
Farah smiles at the pout her girlfriend fails to hide. “It’s okay, babe, I know you tried your best.”
“Maybe,” Farah says with a small shrug, “But it’s the weekend now and we can do whatever we want! Forget about it until Monday, okay?”
Annie doesn’t reply so Farah scoots their chairs closer together with her brightest expression.
“I think Nate said something about it snowing this weekend. You can finally show me what snow angels are–“ Farah’s cut off by Annie’s sharp, rattly intake of breath. “Annie—”
A whimper escapes Annie’s tight lips. She slaps her hands over her mouth but can’t stop her shoulders from quaking and the tears from leaking free.
“I tried so hard, Farah,” she cries, “it was due today and I couldn’t get it done! I promised Mom and everyone that I could handle this!”
“H-Hey…” Farah touches her shoulder with a tentative smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Haley throw a concerned look in their direction. Farah gives her a reassuring wave. “Rebecca isn’t worried about spending audits–”
“I promised I could handle both the station and working with the team! The town, and supernaturals, and blood drives, and spending audits! What good am I to the team if I can’t fulfill even my basic responsibilities?”
Farah bites her lip, a shimmer in her amber eyes. “I don’t–”
Annie chokes down a tear soaked sob, “What if she asks me to quit again? What if Adam asks me to quit! Oh my God, I could be fired–! It was due today!”
“Annie!” Farah seizes Annie’s shoulders, turning her in her chair so they meet each other’s eyes. “Of course they won’t! You work so hard, they’ll be dumb to even think about that.” Tenderly, Farah’s fingers wipe away treks of tears. “Adam loves you. Nate and Morgan love you. Not as much as me. Obviously…”
A laugh sputters out of Annie, and Farah grins and continues, “There’s really nothing you could do to make anyone love you less. No matter how hard you try.”
“I know,” says Annie, dabbing at her eyes with her sweater sleeve, “I’m so sorry, Farah. This is ridiculous. I know I should be stronger than this by now.”
“You don’t need to be strong, Annie. You need to be loved.” Farah presses a kiss to the tip of Annie’s nose, still wet with a few stray tears. A smile blooms across Annie’s face, her dark eyes shining. Farah can feel her heart squeeze in the most amazing way. Her words take a moment to come back to her. “And I don’t know what a “spending audit” is, but that sounds boring enough to be right up Adam’s alley. He’d love to help you.”
“He’s busy enough, he doesn’t need to…”
“Annie.”
A sigh. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
“Great!” Farah presses another kiss to Annie’s temple, and moves to whisper in her ear, “But until then, I know what can distract you from all that.”
“Do you?” Annie drops her voice to a low whisper with those words and a shiver shoots through Farah’s core. The flush that heats her skin spreads when Annie trails her hands up her sides. “And what are you suggesting, Agent Hauville?”
“Can’t tell you. Guess we gotta get out of here and find out.”
Annie doesn’t fight her smile that grows brighter or the fresh flush of color that paints her wet cheeks. After paying for the coffee and uneaten strawberry tart, the two women walk out hand in hand, fingers laced, and the week’s stress left mostly forgotten.
pairing: adam du mortain x lya toriezze (f!detective)
prompt: #23 a hug that some might consider as ~too long~ (physical affectionate prompts)
A/N: thank you nett! I hope I did this prompt justice 💖
His eyes fall onto her, a sign of relief in his gaze. He felt like he could finally breathe, before stepping forward.
He studies her for a moment, her face was covered in scratches, somewhat a failed attempt on fighting back – as she was laying down the cold pavement. He paused, as his hands stopped and caressed her cheeks slowly, a gentle look in his eyes as his mind started to let out a sigh in relief.
She’s safe.
Her eyes started to open in slow motion, as her brown-colored irises were met with his. A surprised look on her face, as she smiles, it reaches the eyes, - happiness to be met with a familiar face.
He helped her escaped in silence, as they escaped the room. There was silence between them – the atmosphere was tense until they found their escape, with Adam guiding Lya in his arms due to her inability to walk at such a quick speed.
They made it, somewhere safe – as Adam passed on the signal to the others. After a moment, her eyes met with his – as she scoots forward, placing both of her arms around his waist; an attempt of a hug despite her condition.
It took him by surprise, he wasn’t very much a hugger – yet, this feeling felt right at the moment. She felt him returning the embrace as his strong arms wrapped around her body, it felt like a protective barrier that could keep her safe for the rest of time.
At that moment, it felt right – all the unexplained feelings were laid out through the embrace, as she lay her head in the crook of his neck. It felt right, as he founds himself getting lost in the hug; a part of him wanting to pull away and escape this feeling while, the other side of him – wanting nothing more than to keep her in his arms for all eternity.
Footsteps were heard from afar, as he started to pull away – meeting the familiar painful look in her eyes before she nods as they were back to the way it was. She lets out a sigh before plastering a smile on her face by Felix, Nate, and Mason's arrival.
Adam stays behind, there was a look of regret - with a part of him missing the touch instantly as he pulls away earlier. He lets out a silent wish - anything more than to be in her arms again, yet he pushes the thought away. The sign of disapproval towards any feelings that were lingering around before moving forward, with the memory from their embrace tattooed in his mind.
pairing | mason x detective x felix [detective sofía olmos]
word count | 3.3k
tags | @choicesarehard ; @pixelsandkink ; @brightpinkpeppercorn ; @messofakind ; @raleiighcarrera ; @pixeljazzy ; @cellophanesheep ; @senatorraines ; @beccadavenport ; @wayhavenschronicles ; @hudush ; @pumpkinpeng ; @knightava ; @thebobbyfish ; @lucensei (lmk if you want to be removed)
author’s note | this is a completely self indulgent love triangle between my two favorites. more detailed description on ao3 below! not sure how many parts this is gonna be to be honest! not sure how nsfw it’ll get either but as for now it’s just mason being mason with all his innuendos you know
read it on ao3
•─────────────────•
He noticed it before she did.
Her pulse didn’t jump the same way it did the first dozen times he walked into the room. The blood didn’t rush to her cheeks, or creep up her neck, the crimson flush absent even when he tried his hardest to fluster her. And it normally took next to nothing to get her to turn into a bumbling mess.
Something was off, and he found himself curious to find out what exactly it was.
And he hated that.
He was the opposite of an obsessive person, so it annoyed the hell out of him that he was fixating on her so much.
Why did he give a fuck about her micro-expressions? Who cares that her pupils didn’t dilate as wide as they used to? Who cares if her breath didn’t hitch as loudly in her throat when he called her sweetheart?
Not him.
God, that was a fucking lie, and he knew it. It infuriated him that he couldn’t let it go. That it was nagging at him. That he couldn’t shake the pestering feeling. That her happiness had become a thorn in his side.
He didn’t know why he showed up to her apartment. He just… did.
After perching on the roof of the warehouse, blazing through a pack of cigarettes, gazing out at the treetops, comforting silence enveloping his normally overstimulated senses – he still couldn’t shake his thoughts of her.
Fucking weird, considering that was his ideal night. And it was ruined by the detective. The human that he warned not to get attached.
Mason was a lot of things, but never a hypocrite. This was new territory for him.
The heavy rainfall scraped against his skin like shattered glass, the freezing temperature adding an extra layer of sensory torture.
The rain stained the chest of his grey henley, droplets beading up and sliding off of the faux leather sleeves of his jacket. He retired his real leather jacket when she scrunched her face at it, clearly upset with the ethics of animal products, blah blah blah. He sucked it up and bought a new one – not because he cared. He just didn’t wanna hear her whine.
He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, eager to get inside.
With a heavier hand than he intended to, he rapped his knuckles across the wood with his right hand, his left arm pressed against the top door frame.
Sofía opened it, her expression one of genuine confusion. He couldn’t blame her. Usually they coordinated booty calls.
“Mason? Jesus Christ, it’s 3 a.m… What are you doing here?” She squinted, wiping sleep from her eyes with the crook of her finger.
“Can’t a guy drop by for a visit?”
“Depends if it’s business or pleasure.”
He quirked a brow at her, smirking. “Depends what you want out of me, sweetheart.”
He wasn’t sure if she intended on him catching the subtle fluttering of her lids as she glanced away, but he did. Usually her defiant eyerolls turned him on, but there was something negative about it that made his chest twinge involuntarily.
“Come in,” she sighed, pushing the door open, walking towards her kitchen without a second glance.
She was wearing his favorite pajama shorts that hugged her ass just right, and he couldn’t resist a couple glances at it, ignoring the godawful neon cheetah print pattern on the fabric.
He stepped inside, kicking the door shut with the back of his boot while he shrugged off his damp jacket, shuddering when the air conditioning hit his damp shirt.
She was insufferably hot natured, which meant her apartment was always freezing, regardless of the temperature outside.
He didn’t mind it when they were working up a sweat, but it stung his skin just as much as the active storm did.
He stopped at the open doorway to the kitchen, watching as she bent down to grab her water filter from the fridge. When she stood straight up, and he noticed the loose tank she wore, he decided why he’d headed over.
He definitely didn’t head over with the intention of fucking her brains out, but how could he resist when she looked like… that.
She poured herself a glass and tossed it back, throat pulsing as she gulped it down. And when she tossed the cup into her sink, tongue darting out at her corners to catch stray droplets, he couldn’t hold back.
He strode over to her, lightning fast, standing directly behind her. He splayed a hand across her stomach, teasing his pinky finger into the waistband of her shorts, satisfied when her breath hitched in her throat.
Normally he’d have to tug her long thick hair to the side to pepper kisses across her neck, but thankfully she already had it tied up in a messy bun, flyaways pointing to all the places on her neck that he could adorn with marks.
“Is this really why you’re here?” She asked, clearly annoyed, as he was trailing kisses up the side of her neck.
He shrugged. “Maybe. Why? Disappointed?”
“No.”
She was rigid in his grip, pushing his hand away from her stomach. She wheeled on him, expression angry. “What do you want from me, really? Just tell me.”
“Damn, where’d all of this come from?” He laughed breathily, leaning back against the counter. He tried keeping a casual composure as best as he could, but he was completely taken aback.
She blew out a huff of air, bracing her arms on the edge of the sink, gripping until her arms shook.
“Do you like me?”
He couldn’t help the way his lip curled, like her words left a bad taste in his mouth. He crossed his arms, tilting his head, not saying a word.
“I thought so,” she sighed deeply. “We really need to talk.”
“Before or after?” He smirked, cocking his head towards her bedroom. It was so easy to fuck with her, even moreso when she was annoyed.
“That’s what this is about.”
He arched a brow, waiting for her to respond. She met his gaze with a firm one of her own, eyes fiery and determined.
“Look, I’m just not cut out for… this,” she motioned between them. “Whatever it is. I thought I was, but I can’t handle it.”
“This?”
“Yes, this. The whole hook-up-but-leave-before-I-wake-up-and-pretend-I-don’t-exist type of shit.”
Before he could think about it, he shrugged. If deflection was his default, and snark was his defense, shrugging was his signature move.
“So you really don’t care? LIke at all?” Her lips tightened, chin dimpling as she narrowed her eyes at him.
So expressive. Why she wore her heart on her sleeve, he’d never understand.
“Told you not to get attached, sweetheart.”
Her jaw popped open, so fast that her tongue clacked against the roof of her mouth. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, looking the most angry he’d ever seen her.
“Why are you so fucking condescending all the time? Jesus Christ, I swear I don’t know why I ever thought sweetheart was endearing in the first place,” she scoffed, hands shaking at her sides.
Ouch. He’d only meant it to be condescending half of the time. Probably a bad choice of words, but she had to know he was messing with her… right? He shook off the thought. No reason to linger on it.
She sighed heavily, and it bugged the hell out of him. Why was she sighing at him so much? “I need some space.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”
“Can you shut the fuck up for two seconds? Seriously, the one time I need you to actually listen to me, you’re giving me snide comments like a child,” she nearly growled at him.
She’s usually so level headed. Why the hell was she letting her temper get the best of her?
He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding to keep himself from being quiet. He was gonna let her let it all out without defending himself. Just this once.
“I’ve been thinking about you way too much and I can’t let this affect my work or my life or…” she trailed off, glancing away for the first time. “Forget it.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you have something to say, say it.” Okay, maybe one freebie.
“Nothing I say will get through to you in the first place, so why should I waste my breath?” She shrugged, flailing her hands and letting them slap against her thighs.
He arched a brow defiantly, keeping his exterior calm, despite how difficult it was to look like he didn’t give a shit while she was hurling her feelings at him.
“You want me to say it? Okay, fine. I want you more than you want me. And I deserve better than that. You warned me and I should’ve listened, and now I need space,” she held his gaze, the look in her eye unwavering. “I don’t want you to ruin me for other people.”
His lip curled, betraying his demeanor. He tried masking it by popping a cigarette between his lips.
“It isn’t your fault, but I’m gonna ruin myself if I keep giving myself hope that I know isn’t there,” she chewed the inside of her lip, using her fingertips to push her bangs out of the way of her glasses.
She’d deflated a little bit, her anger dissolving into sympathy. God, he hated how clearly he could read her. She couldn’t hold anything back. She was an open book that he had no trouble browsing. He could skim the pages, pick out his favorite passages, and bookmark them, and she was completely oblivious.
She didn’t even tell him to put out his cigarette.
He took a long, rebellious drag and blew a stream of smoke out, pursing his lips so it nearly hit her in the face. “That’s it?”
Her eyes widened, face contorting into an expression of fury, of pain, of exhaustion, that he distinctly remembered from her lowest points. He felt a twinge of guilt, but otherwise didn’t change his physical stance, relaxed and nonchalant.
Her hand darted out to grab the cigarette, but he’d already flicked the bud into her sink.
She sighed, eyes glassy, walking out of the kitchen, shouldering past him towards the front door. She opened it, wordlessly pointing outside. “Get out.”
“You sure you don’t want one last round?” He joked, hands shoved into his pockets.
“As much as I’d love to say yes, I can’t handle my heart breaking again,” she laughed humorlessly, motioning again. “Get out, Mason.”
What the fuck did she mean, again?
He stalked out of the apartment, left heel nearly slammed in the door.
Damn, she was livid. But she’d come around. She was always upset after they hooked up, but she always came back.
He tried to keep that in mind as he heard the sniffles through the door, trying not to wonder if that was the first time she’d spilled tears over him.
–––––
The angry tears fell before she could even slide the lock closed.
Why the fuck did she even bring any of that up? She said she was going to wait until she had more of an argument and could form coherent thoughts.
Her thoughts ran a mile a minute, and she had to get them out somehow. She stumbled back to her room, snatching her phone off of her nightstand and dialing his number before she could chicken out.
“Hey, Sofía! Why are you up so late –”
“Mason showed up at my doorstep expecting to sleep with me and I exploded on him,” she said through her soft sobs.
“Oh, hey, wait, are you crying?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be okay. I just need to vent,” she lied, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes.
“You don’t sound okay…”
“I… I’m not feeling so great. I’m starting to regret yelling at him.”
An ear-splitting cackle rang out through the speaker of her phone. “You’re too nice for your own good, detective.”
His laugh was enveloping, like sunshine – if you were caught in its rays, you couldn’t help but bask in it. She let herself enjoy it, if only for a moment, before letting her feelings about Mason settle into her bones again.
“We talked about this, though. You wanted him to see where you were coming from, right?”
“Yeah, but I, uh, let my temper get the best of me,” she chewed the inside of her lip, picking at a loose string on the quilt on her bed.
“So… he probably didn’t listen, huh?”
“Surprise, surprise,” she muttered, sniffling. “I really wanted this to work out. I don’t know why the hell I expected more.”
Her voice broke, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her cries.
“Awe, hey, it’ll be okay! You planning on going back to sleep right now or would you like a handsome distraction?”
She laughed, rolling her eyes, thankful he couldn’t see her cheeks flush. “No, I’m awake for the day… I think.”
“Alright, I’m heading over now, and I’m bringing some movies. You want some of the kettle corn I popped earlier? It’s charred but maybe we could pick out some of the good pieces –”
“I’d love that, Felix.”
––––
If there was one thing Felix couldn’t do, it was stay still.
Even with the detective’s cheek pressed against his shoulder, lips parted, a serene expression on her soft features, he still tapped his foot incessantly, squirming in place.
C’mon hold it together for a little longer, he thought, drumming his fingers on his leg. Humans only need 8 hours of sleep right? Or was it 7? Maybe 4? Whatever.
He checked the clock on her wall, watching the seconds tick by. And when the second hand hit twelve, he gently shook her, noting how soft the skin of her arms were.
“Sofía? Hey, it’s pretty late,” he whispered, watching as her brows furrowed, and she cracked open one eyelid, arching her back into a stretch.
“What time is it?” She croaked.
“Twelve.”
She sat up quickly, eyes widening, lines etched into her face from the denim of his jacket. “You stayed here all night?”
“Well, yeah,” He said matter-of-factly. “You fell asleep on my shoulder halfway through the first movie, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I just stayed.”
Her expression was sheepish, and he had no idea why. He really didn’t mind that she cuddled up to him… in fact, he really, really liked it. After what she’d been through the night before, he didn’t blame her for passing out from exhaustion.
“I’m really sorry for passing out on you like that,” she glanced away, not able to meet his eye.
“It’s no big deal. I got to binge watch all the Back To The Future movies and lemme just say, kinda makes me wish I would’ve fallen through the portal sooner so I could’ve lived during the eighties. I’m definitely going as Marty for Halloween, by the way,” he nodded contentedly, standing up from the couch.
She jumped up too, rushing to her kitchen, deftly moving around, whipping together a quick breakfast and coffee, like a well-oiled machine of one. She ripped her hair out of the bun piled on top of her head, shaking her head around and trying to rake her fingers through it simultaneously.
He caught himself staring at the way her wispy bangs framed her face, her length cascading down her back, the sleek silkiness of her hair practically beckoning for him to reach out and run his own fingers through it.
“Have you ever celebrated Halloween?” She asked, breaking his trance, as she poured herself a cup of coffee, taking a quick bite of her bagel.
“No, not like I want to,” he deflated a bit, screwing his lips to the side. “I know I’m a ‘grown up’–” he used air quotes around the word, “– but I wanna go trick or treating.”
“Wayhaven PD usually teams up with the elementary school and we do a mini-festival in the parking lot, with food, games, costumes, trick or treating… it’s great,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’ll definitely take you.”
His amber eyes brightened even more as a grin stretched across his face. “Really?” His voice rose an octave, and he could barely contain his joy. “You’re the best. Wait, should we do matching costumes? Oh my gosh. There’s so much to plan. It’s so soon!”
She swallowed her bite of food, holding back a laugh. “It’s fine, Felix. I swear we have time.”
He scrunched his nose. “Okay, I believe you.”
“I’ve got to go in a sec. I was supposed to meet Tina downtown today and I’m already late,” she checked the clock on the wall, blowing air upwards at her bangs in frustration.
“I’m sorry I have to cut this short. I really liked having you over,” she smiled shyly at him, and a little spark ignited in his chest, spreading warmth throughout his limbs, all the way to the tip of his fingers.
“I liked it, too,” he grinned even wider, stepping close to her.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she stood frozen in place, coffee cup in hand, shoulders raised.
“Felix…” she breathed, her eyes fluttering as she trained her gaze on his lips. She involuntarily leaned forward, nearly closing the gap between them.
“Yeah, Sofía?” he whispered, smile morphing into a near smirk.
“Do you think it’s really over between us?” She blinked, looking down at the floor.
His heart ached in his chest, head clearing immediately. Oh God, did I really forget that’s why I came here? I’m supposed to be helping her, not swooping in to sink my teeth into her like some sort of… Felix. Cheap joke. Don’t finish that sentence.
“I really don’t know,” he leaned back, searching her eyes, trying to show how sincere he was. “He’s never been around a girl long enough for them to dump him first.”
She sighed, the bottom of her mug clinking against the dark linoleum countertop. “Yeah, I figured.”
“Well, don’t give up now! When he gets in one of his moods, he just needs some time to come around, you know?” He scratched his head, pinching and twisting his curls between his fingers, fiddling with his beanie.
“I… don’t know if I want him to come around,” she chewed the inside of her lip, pushing her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.
“You mean that?”
He must’ve looked surprised, because she sighed and took her glasses off, covering her face with her hands, scrubbing her skin with her palms.
“I just don’t know what the fuck I want,” she shook her head, bending over to prop her elbows against the counter, hands still over her face. Her voice came out muffled and pained, and he furrowed his brows, closing the distance between them to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders.
She turned in his grip, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, her breath tickling the exposed skin of his neck, right above his scarf.
“Of course,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her, revelling in the warmth of her bare skin.
