#National Take Back the Lunch Break Day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

draconic-desire · 7 months

Text

A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

#yandere #neuvillette #yandere neuvillette #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #fontaine #ao3 fanfic

1K notes · View notes

cellophanejpeg · 8 months

Text

the rooftop.

Every girl in school likes Tsukishima Kei. Everyone knows he's the popular tall boy who helped take the school volleyball team to the nationals. Naturally, he's the target of various confessions per week. He's certain at least of every class has confessed to him. And then, there's you. The mysterious girl that silently hangs out with him on the rooftop of the school building. All he knows about you is that you're in the same classmas Hinata and Kageyama. That is, until you come up with a proposition he finds it hard to deny.

w.c.: 6.7k

hi. fake relationship. high school. feelings. sorry if this feels rushed towards the end, ive been writing this since januray 2023. crossposted on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sky is a nice blue, and you enjoy the view as you lean on the rails of the roof on your lunch break, basking on the sunlight and the cool wind breeze mother nature decided to bless you this afternoon. Despite your friends having lunch in the classroom, you like being alone at this time of the day. It's the only time you have to yourself. After this, you'll have classes and club activities, and then you'll have to get home and have homework to do and study and won’t have even a single thought to yourself.

This is why you sigh silently when you hear a stranger's voice coming from behind you. Right at the corner of the roof, where they can't see you, there's a girl confessing her crush to the same tall boy who hangs out silently on the same roof as you. You look over your shoulder and see her handing him a pink envelope, bowing and leaving. The boy just stares at it, in silence, adjusts his glasses and walks over to the trash can by the rail where he tosses the envelope.

You scoff at him.

“Shut up,” Tsukishima tells you.

“I didn’t say anything.” You protest and look back at the sight the school building provides, “Although, that's what? The third one this week?”

“Tch.” He joins you on the railing and doesn't say anything for a moment. “I tried coming here for a break, but they keep finding me.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, the struggle.”

The mocking tone makes him sigh, irritation coursing through his veins. You're one of the few girls that haven't had a crush on or haven't confessed to him. That he knows. And it's not like he takes pride in it, being one of the popular guys in school and having girls falling for him daily. Sure, it was fun in the first year of high school, but now, in his last, he just wants to focus on graduating and getting into a nice university, moving on with life.

Then, there's you. The mysterious girl he met on the roof of the school's building that he knows nothing about. All he knows about you is that you're in the same class as Hinata’s and he'll be dead before he asks him about you. For now, he'll just hang out silently with you and bask on the unspoken agreement that you two have.

“Why don't you give one of them a chance?” You break the silence and Tsukishima exhales sharply as he remembers Yamaguchi saying these same words to him once. He ducks his head for a moment, then pushes himself off the railing.

“Don't you have better things to do?” He asks, looking straight into your eyes.

“Nope,” You smirk at him, knowing you're getting on his nerves. A laugh escapes your lips as he clicks his tongue. He has pretty eyes, though.

“What about you?” He asks, leaning his forearms on the railing again, “Surely there must be someone—”

It's your turn to click your tongue, irritated. The subject annoys you too much, especially when the creepy boys from your club come to mind every time, and Tsukishima falls silent, knowing it's dangerous territory. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence again, once more enjoying what you came in search of: peace of mind.

Except your mind is not at peace at all. You barely know this kid, just that he's on the masculine volleyball team and that they went to the nationals once and it was a pretty big deal at the time. And that he's tall. And handsome. And that pretty much all girls in school fall for him because of all that. You're not so sure why so many girls tend to confess to him anyway. Tsukishima is a bit rude and harsh. At least he was when you met him. At first, it made you back away from him as far as possible. How could a girl even want to be his girlfriend?

And then a thought hits you.

“You know...” You pick at your nails, eyes down to the other students far away from you, “I could pretend to be your girlfriend to keep those girls away...”

Tsukishima's eyes bore to you, but you're still looking down. At first, he thinks you're joking, but the look on your face tells him you're serious about it. Still, he can't help but be sarcastic about it because, well, that's just who he is.

“You'd do that for me.” The cynicism is clear on his voice, and you end up rolling your eyes, but smile as you look back at him, shrugging.

“You'd keep the creeps away.”

This, he wasn't expecting. He tries to hide the surprise on his face but fails to. Then, he falls into his usual Tsukishima face and scoffs, pushing himself out of the rail and turning his back to walk away. You sigh deeply and lean your chin on your forearms, enjoying the last minutes of your lunch break, knowing the bell will ring soon and you'll have to get back to your classroom.

…

It's not until two days later that you hear from Tsukishima again. You're doing some homework in advance on your break, since it’s pouring outside and you can't go to the roof today, when one of your classmates calls your name and tells you he's looking for you. The hallway is packed with people, and it annoys him that his earphones are out of battery so he can't listen to music like he always does, so when you meet him outside your classroom the frown between his brows is almost popping up a vein, you're sure of it.

“What's up?” You say, pretending not to notice the large vein on his forehead. Oh, he's pissed at something and you're dying to see it.

“C'mon,” he simply says and turns his back. When you don't follow, confused at his command, he sighs sharply and pulls you by the wrist. You try to protest, but you're very aware everyone is watching as he pulls you through the hallway towards a more private place. When he's sure no one is around, Tsukishima stops by the stairs between the first and second floors, where Hinata swore to him he once saw a ghost there.

“Damn, what happened?” You ask, frowning at the strong grip on your wrist.

“I'll do it.”

You pause, looking way up at his height that towers you. It should intimidate you, it should make you back away, especially after you saw the way he treats people... but you don't.

“Do what?”

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Are you really gonna make him say it? Fine, so be it. What's a little pride anyway? He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes.

“I'll pretend to be your boyfriend... to keep the creeps away.”

“Oh. That.” You had forgotten about it already. So, he wants in, then? “O-okay.”

“Okay.” He parrots and his eyes travel through your shoulder to your arm and notes how he's still gripping your wrist like there's no tomorrow. Tsukishima quickly lets go of you like you have the plague, then clears his throat, a faint shade of red painting his cheekbones, “S-so, how do we do this?”

You shrug, “We spend time together on breaks, go home holding hands, all that couple stuff, you know.”

On the outside, your behavior is nonchalant, but your hands are shaking with nervousness. You’re about to fake an entire relationship with a guy you barely know.

“Right.” Tsukishima nods, “I have club activities until six, though.”

“Me too. You can wait for me outside gymnasium five, the one with the pool. Just make sure you're seen.”

A groan bubbles up in his throat, but he swallows it down. Isn't being seen the main objective here? So, he just nods and exhales softly as he closes his eyes.

“Don't worry,” you say, realizing he looks worried about your plan, “I won't make you kiss me or anything... unless you want me to.”

Tsukishima opens his eyes and blushes furiously, a frown growing between his brows. You let a laugh escape your lips, genuinely having fun with his reaction. That until someone starts descending the stairs, interrupting their moment. It's the girl from that day on the roof, the one that handed the letter over to Tsukishima when you were there. She looks at him and then looks at you, a small frown between her eyebrows. For a moment, you think she's going to say something, but she just walks past you both and quickly makes her way to the first floor. When you look back at him, his skin is bright red, and his eyes are everywhere but on you.

“Well, you gotta do better than that if you want to convince people we're together.” You actually smile at the view.

He just huffs and walks away from you.

…

The rain has stopped by the time you're done with your club activities. You make sure to leap out of the pool and power walk to the dressing rooms.

“No running around the pool!” Your professor says and you apologize, but don't stop, ripping the goggles and swimming cap from your head.

“Someone's in a hurry today!” You hear a remark, probably from one the first years, and ignore them as you quickly enter the dressing room and start undressing.

You don't even bother to wash off the chlorine from your hair, just a quick douche and you're already putting your uniform on again. Almost knocking a second year down, you bust out of the dressing room, making your way outside.

No sight of Tsukishima.

All that work for nothing. You sigh, deciding to wait a couple of minutes, but he doesn't show up. Did he change his mind? He would've let you know if that was the case, right?

As you start walking around the school to make your way to the volleyball gymnasium, you feel embarrassed to be that excited to see him. Maybe you should’ve washed your hair, maybe it was stupid to rush like that.

Trapped in your own thoughts, you don’t see the tall presence in front of you as you turn a corner to reach the gymnasium. The strong body collides with you, and it sends you back, your feet tripping on each other making you almost fall on your ass.

His hands reach for you, holding you in place.

Tsukishima’s eyes look down at you, honey colored pupils staring at you confused. For a second you think your heart skips a beat with the way he holds your upper arms, the warmth of his hands radiating to your own skin.

“I thought you said to be outside gymnasium five,” he says, pulling you back from your thoughts.

“Y-you didn’t show up.” You manage to say.

He sighs, letting go of you. “Sorry. Coach held us a bit back there.”

Tsukishima pulls his phone out of his bag and only then you notice he’s wearing his club’s uniform. He didn’t have time to change and was going to see you right away.

“Oh.” You say, watching the way his eyes scan whatever is on his phone. He looks at you and you feel heat on your cheeks, looking away. In the distance, a boy with brown hair and a blonde girl are looking puzzled at the both of you. You take a deep breath and look back at him, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. “It’s okay! Meeting here is better anyway.”

Tsukishima then remembers he didn’t give an explanation to his teammates on why he wasn’t going to change, saying he just needed to be somewhere else. His ears turn pink when he realizes they’re still lingering outside the door and witnessing this interaction.

“Walk me home?” You smile at him.

He just nods. Walking you home is probably the best way to be seen together. Side eyeing Yamaguchi and Yachi, he walks by your side as you guide him towards the exit.

He'd have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.

…

“Are you and Tsukishima from class four together?” It’s the first thing you hear when you enter the classroom the next day. Your friend grabs your shoulders and looks right into your eyes.

“U-uh…” you clutch your bag and swallow hard, thinking of what to say, “Yeah, we’re–“ you swallow hard again, “We’re together.”

Her eyes widens and she opens her mouth, but you interrupt whatever she is about to say.

“Don’t scream.” You manage to get free from her grip.

“Wait, but Yuuki from class two confessed to him yesterday! She said he said he wasn’t interested.” She follows you to your seat.

“Oh, really?” you say as you sit down, watching as she pulls a chair to sit beside you.

“And Maki saw you two in the hallway at lunch and started crying, ‘cause she also confessed to him this week.” You think back to the moment a familiar girl ran into you two by the stairs. You kinda feel bad for making a girl cry, but you’re sure Tsukishima will like that the girls already fell for your fake relationship. When you don’t say anything, your friend keeps talking, “Maki said he seemed interested in her, though.”

“Oh, trust me, he wasn’t.” You laugh, remembering how he immediately threw her love letter in the trashcan when she left.

“What?”

“What?” You look back at her.

“You’re acting so weird…” She frowns at you.

Swallowing, you shrug, “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Luckily, the bell rings and you silently thank time for being so on point. Your friend goes back to her seat, and you sigh relieved.

Who would’ve known lying would be so hard?

…

“So, is it true?” Yamaguchi asks as he approaches the net to block a spike from the other team.

Coach made them split into groups of three to play against each other and Tsukishima was stuck with a freshman and Yamaguchi.

“What is?” He asks after jumping and blocking the spike successfully.

“That you’re with that girl from class one.”

He looks at Yamaguchi and understands why he’s been acting weird all day. Ever since he saw you together, he’s been acting as if he wants to say something.

Tsukishima says your name.

“Yeah,” he then says, “It’s true.”

He doesn’t see it, but he knows Yamaguchi is smiling at him, that hopeful, shit eating grin he hates so much.

“I knew someday–“

“Save it.” Tsukishima interrupts him.

“Well, I was right, wasn’t I?”

Yamaguchi had been saying for weeks that the girl who sits on the roof during lunch time and Tsukishima would end up together someday. Something to do with spending too much time with her, ‘specially if she hasn’t confessed’ like he said. Yamaguchi was actually so wrong about it, but he let him have it by grunting a response.

He felt bad enough lying to his best friend already.

“So who confessed first?”

…

“He did, obviously,” you answer your friend’s question.

A day later, in P.E., she asked if it was you who confessed to him. She couldn’t let go of your – fake – relationship with Tsukishima, asking you questions about him and how it happened, if you both had kissed and went out on dates already.

It usually wouldn’t bother you, since you don’t really like Tsukishima that way, but the number of questions she’s asking makes you think she’s the one who has a crush on him. It makes you feel weird on the inside, as if something is wrong.

“You must’ve really impressed him,” she says as you both complete another lap around the soccer field, “I heard he’s…”

“He’s what?” you ask as she trails away. You both come to a stop, panting and sweating and you wait for her response, but she just shrugs.

“What?” You insist.

“Just… that he’s cold towards girls.”

You stare at her. It’s not like you’re offended by her statement, she’s actually right. You’ve never seen Tsukishima acting differently with any other girl, or boy, or anyone. It’s just the way he is. But why would that be a problem? You’re not really together.

…

“Rumors sure do fly fast.” You mumble as you walk down the street, Tsukishima by your side. He hums an answer, “Have any girls bothered you yet?”

“No, but it's only been a week.”

A chuckle leaves your lips. Crossed arms, you shiver as a cold breeze rushes past you.

“Any creeps bother you?”

You side eye him, smirking, “It's only been a week.”

The silence that follows walks on the line between comfortable and awkward. You want to say more, have a conversation with him, but it seems Tsukishima was comfortable with the silence between you two. And it's not like you have to be friends with him for this plan to work.

It's only been a week, but you've learned that Tsukishima is a quiet, reserved guy. Always listening to music, always in his own world. You don’t want to force him much.

Another cold breeze rushes past you and the shivers on your skin make you tremble. A sign the cold weather is about to come. Tightening the grip on yourself, you take a deep breath, trying to control the involuntary shivers, until you feel something warm around your shoulders.

His school club jacket.

You pause your steps to look at him, now sporting just his shirt and shorts. It takes him a second to realize you've stopped, so he looks back at you and raises a brow. The corners of your mouth pull into an amused smile, and he rolls his eyes at you, resuming his walk.

“We're supposed to be pretending, aren't we?” he says, shrugging. The smile on your face grows bigger, but you don't mention that no one from school is around, “Also, you're gonna get sick with your wet hair.”

You want to thank him and say you won't, but you're too afraid it'll scare him off. For now, you just bask in the warmth of his jacket as he walks you home.

…

Two weeks later, you don't show up at school for three days. On the fourth day, a shy girl approached Tsukishima saying she was the class rep for class one and asked if he could take you some homework you missed. He tried saying he had practice after school, but she insisted, since he was her boyfriend.

He thought about just showing up at your house after practice, but his guts told him he should check on you.

You live on the way to his house anyway, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt. At the end of the day, he tells Yamaguchi he’s going to skip practice, and, to his surprise, he just smiles at him, giving a knowing look.

“What?” Tsukki stares at his best friend.

Yamaguchi just shrugs, “Nothing.”

Tsukishima suspected something was on his mind, but he said nothing as he kept that look on his face.

The walk to your place is pleasant and quiet, just the way he likes it. He missed being able to be with his own thoughts, listening to his favorite band and just... being alone. But at the same time, walking by himself feels strange now. In the past week, he’s grown so accustomed to your presence that, when you missed classes, he...

He missed you.

Halting his steps at the realization, he notices your house at the top of the small hill. His heart does something that he doesn’t recognize. A feeling deep inside bothers him to the point he thinks it’s just a stomachache.

He also didn’t stop to think about how to introduce himself to your parents. The feeling only gets worse as he approaches your front door and rings the doorbell, expecting an adult to come to get him.

‘Just hand them the homework and leave’, he thinks to himself as he hears footsteps approaching and the door being unlocked.

To his surprise, it’s you who opens the door.

Pink colors his cheekbones as he notices you’re in your pajamas: sweatpants and a tank top that reveals much more than what his imagination can go. Your hair is a little messy and your face... You look so sleepy that he feels his heart skip a beat.

“Tsukki?” You say with a rough voice, bringing him back to reality, “What- what happened?”

“I-I...” He stutters and then clears his throat, “I brought your homework...”

Tsukishima digs through his backpack to get the stack of papers and hand it to you.

“Homework?” You say, frowning, “Isn’t that the class rep’s job?”

“Yeah, but she gave it to me instead.”

You scoff, taking the papers from him, which causes a coughing fit. At this moment the wind passes through you and you shiver.

“Get inside,” Tsukki tells you, “you’ll get worse.”

“Well, come in then.”

You give him space to walk inside your home. He does without thinking much nor hesitating. It’s like he’s always been here, like entering his best friend’s house.

“Are you alone?” he asks, taking in the living room. A blanket lays on the couch and the TV is paused on some movie you were watching.

“Yeah, my mom is working.”

You guide him to the living room, bunching up the blanket on a corner and giving him space to sit.

“And your dad?” he asks, carefully.

“On a work trip.”

“Oh.”

The silence that follows is definitely awkward enough for Tsukishima to be uncomfortable. He’s never been in a situation like this, alone with a girl in her house. It makes him nervous. Especially because it’s you.

“Would you like some tea?” Your offer comes right before another cough fit, followed by a sneeze.

Tsukishima sighs and reaches for the bunched up blanket beside you — trying to ignore how close you are —, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Told you you’d get sick.” He mumbles, pulling the blanket so it gets right around you.

“Sorry.”

“Tch- don’t be sorry. I’ll make some tea.”

He stands up and goes toward the open kitchen, leaving you staring at his back as he walks away. Tsukki acts like he’s been at your place a million times: fills the electric kettle, looks for the tea in the cabinets and takes some honey from the counter. It’s only natural, he wants you to feel better.

And here you are, sick as a street dog, watching his movements with attention. His shirt rises when he stretches to reach the tea at the top cabinet – after you tell him where it is – and you see some hair on his lower abdomen. Your face immediately burns, but you can’t look away. You can’t help but stare. And you hate to admit it, but you like what you see.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks, and you snap to reality.

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” You clear your throat and finally look away.

Tsukishima pours one cup for you and one for him. You watch his hands as he settles down on the couch again, his slender fingers hugging the ceramic of the mug as he hands it to you. When you take it, his skin brushes against yours gently. You feel your skin heating up again.

If he notices, he says nothing. You take a sip from the tea and almost burn your tongue at the temperature, but your eyes are fixated on his hands. The protuberant veins on his pale skin and the size of his palms, his fingers. One of them catches your attention, his pinky finger is different from the others.

“What?” his voice brings you back to reality and you look at him to find him staring back.

You don't know why you decide to go with the truth.

“Your pinky.”

He gives you a puzzled look. Clearing your throat, you speak louder.

“Your right pinky. It's different.”

Tsukishima raises his hand to show you his crooked finger. “Oh. I broke it in the finals for the Spring tournament in my first year. They just taped it together and it never healed right.”

“Oh...” without thinking much, you reach for his hand, your finger pads rubbing against the curve of his pinky. The warmth from his skin radiates to yours and you like the sensation of his hands on yours.

“I thought the whole school was there...” He mumbles and you let go of his hand. The warmth for your tea isn't sufficient to warm the lack of his touch.

“If it was in Spring, I wasn't.” You sigh, “Swimming trials start in April. I was trying to get into the Summer swimming competition.”

“Did you get in?”

“No,” you say with a smile, “but I watched the Nationals.”

“Oh?” His eyes light up a little and you think it's adorable.

“Yeah, on the TV.” You see him visibly deflate. You don't think he knows he's doing that, but you don't mention it anyway, “It was pretty exciting. You guys deserved it.”

Tsukishima looks at you as if he discovered a new star. It's not written on his face, but you can see it in his eyes, and you don’t know if it’s the fever or something else, but your chest constricts and your stomach churns. There’s a silence, tense seconds pass by.

“Can I ask you something?” Tsukki asked and you nodded, encouraging him to do it, “Who are the creeps you always talk about?”

Your smile fades away and your eyes tear the gaze from his. Sighing, you consider giving an evasive answer or just lying, but you decide to tell him the truth.

“Just some guys from the boys swimming team. Sometimes they watch our practice and make comments about me.”

“What kind of comments?” He breathes, trying to control his anger. Tsukki didn’t want you to realize he felt protective of you, but with his flushed face and inflated nostrils, he couldn’t hide much.

“Just some nasty comments about my body.”

A tense pause hangs heavily between you both. Tsukishima is thinking of all the ways he can beat up those creeps. It's weird that he feels so protective of you, you’re not really his girlfriend, but hearing you talk about this and not doing anything about it feels wrong.

“It’s not just me, though.” you continue, “It’s all the girls.”

“Your coach doesn’t say anything?”

“We tried to tell her once, and she did talk to their coach, but it only made the insults worse...”

He says your name, making you look at him. You see something in his eyes, something you’ve never seen before.

“If you want, I can—”

“No, it’s fine, I—”

“Hey.” Tsukishima grabs your shoulders, with the intention of forcing you to look at him and listen. His touch burns on your skin, and you grow hot as his amber eyes stare intensely into yours, “This is why we’re doing this, right? You said it yourself, I'd keep the creeps away.”

You pause for a second wondering why he’s suddenly acting like this. “Y-yeah, but you don’t have to do anything... I... I thought that if they saw I had a boyfriend, they would stop, but...”

“They didn’t.” He finishes your sentence. You just shake your head, looking away.

Tsukishima suddenly feels the urge to kiss you, to make your pain go away. His eyes stare at your lips for a moment as he wonders if they’re as soft as they look. He wonders how they would feel against his own lips, against his skin, against—

You look back at him, eyes meeting his, a curious expression on your face, as if you know what he’s thinking about. Then, he suddenly stands up from the couch, startling you.

“I-I should go,” he says, clearing his throat, “but once you feel better and you go back to school, I’ll deal with the creeps.”

You stand up from your spot as well, meeting his eyes, “Tsukki, I—”

“It’s not up for discussion.” His voice sounds lower, darker even. It lights a fire in you that you don’t recognize. “Text me if you need anything.”

With that, he leaves your house, leaving you to feel confused and puzzled.

…

The following week, you finally feel better enough to go back to school. The flu has gotten better, but you’re still not able to swim – medical orders – until you feel one hundred percent well. So after classes, you just hang out at the library until Tsukishima is done with practice. You miss swimming, but the peace and quiet of the library is a nice break from your hectic days. Or at least it was. As soon as they entered the place, you knew you were going to have a hard time.

Their comments about your swimming abilities, your body, your hair and even your – fake – relationship with Tsukishima, come to your mind and you quickly slip out of the place before they can notice you. You hate that they have such an effect on you like that, you want to admit you don't care, but you do. Of course you do, when they're calling you names and laughing at everything you do.

Walking around the school, you find yourself at the volleyball gymnasium, staring at the open door. Inside, Tsukki and his friends are doing serving and receiving exercises, and, before you can think too much about it, you cross the entry, passing through the protective net used to keep the balls from escaping.

A ball flies over your head and hits the wall beside you, making you gasp and jump in your place. Everyone looks at you. Swallowing, you quickly remove your shoes and offer them a small bow before running to the bleachers.

Tsukki looks at you with a puzzled face, and then jumps at the sound of the coach barking some orders. The rest of practice goes like it usually does, except there's a tiny voice inside his head telling him that you're watching. Deep down, he feels like he has to practice harder, do better, just because you're watching. By the end of the practice, he's sweating, overheating and catching his breath more than usual.

He avoided looking at the bleachers during practice, but now, when he takes a peek, he catches you staring at him. You quickly look away, heat creeping on your cheeks. He can't help but smile.

Days are getting dark sooner now, so when you leave the gymnasium to meet him, it's already dusk. The sky is a mixture of bright oranges and blues. You wait for him to get changed into his uniform as you watch the sun go away. A cold breeze rushes through you and you shiver, wishing you'd brought your uniform jacket instead of just a sweater.

A warm fabric falls on your shoulders, the familiar scent of fabric softener and Omnigel immediately invading your nostrils. Tsukishima's large hand rests on the top of your head, catching you by surprise. There's no one around to show off your fake relationship, so the affectionate gesture confuses you.

“Hey,” you say, forcing a smile.

“What's wrong?” He asks, noticing your glassy eyes.

“Nothing,” you respond too quickly.

He stares at you, amber eyes studying you with suspicion, “You have a weird look on your face.”

“It's just my face.”

Tsukki says your name, making you sigh and close your eyes. How is he able to read you so easily like this?

“Was it the creeps?” He asks, and you cringe, “What did they do?”

When you look at Tsukishima, you notice the anger and his eyes. Heat creeps on your cheeks at the thought of him protecting you.

“N-nothing.” You stutter, “I was at the library and they came in… They didn't even see me though!” You quickly add, “I just– I just didn't want to face them…”

He keeps quiet for a moment until he takes your hand in a bold move.

“Tomorrow we're going to face them,” He says matter-of-factly, dragging you away from the gymnasium.

“Tsu–”

“This is why we're doing this.” He interrupts you, “I don't care what you think they're gonna say, we're gonna show you're mine now.”

As quick as the words leave his mouth, he freezes, eyes wide, cheeks red in embarrassment. He doesn't look at you, as he stops walking, hand squeezing yours harder.

“Kei…” you say, stomach doing somersaults, breath quickening.

“Shut up.” He pulls you away, walking faster.

The rest of the walk home is spent in silence.

…

Tsukishima couldn't remember the last time he rode a bike to school, but here he is at your doorstep, hands on the handlebars tightening their grip. He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him after what he said last night, but when he knocked on your door, the look on your face changed from surprised to amused. You asked for a minute to finish getting ready and left him waiting outside.

The tension between you two is palpable, as you walk side by side to school.

When you walk through the school grounds hand in hand, Tsukishima avoids eye contact, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

The morning is a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tsukishima's determination to confront the creeps is evident, and you find yourself caught in the whirlwind of his protectiveness. The rumors about your relationship spread like wildfire, everyone knew you were together, but seeing you holding hands just adds an extra layer of complexity to the situation.

He rests a hand on your head when you reach your classroom, “See you later.”

Nodding, you feel your cheeks burning as you enter the classroom. All eyes are on you when you take a seat. Your friends tease you all morning.

This fake relationship certainly took an unexpected turn.

…

“You ready?” Tsukki asks you, taking your hand again. Lunch break was cut short when he approached you. Nodding, you swallow hard, confused by the swirl of emotions that hit you.

As you approach the library, you notice the creeps already there, smirking and whispering among themselves. Tsukishima tightens his grip on your hand, a silent reassurance that he's by your side. With a confident stride, you both enter the library, facing the unwelcome attention head-on.

The creeps pause their conversation, their eyes widening at the unexpected sight of you two together. You can sense the shift in the atmosphere as Tsukishima directs a stern gaze towards them. Your heart races, unsure of how this confrontation will unfold.

Unexpectedly, Tsukishima speaks up, his voice cutting through the library's silence. "Enough with the comments and disrespect. Keep your opinions to yourselves. She's not interested, and we're not tolerating any more of your nonsense."

The creeps, taken aback by Tsukishima's assertiveness, exchange uneasy glances. You stand there, seeing a side of him you hadn't seen before. As the creeps mumble half-hearted apologies and disperse, Tsukishima's grip on your hand relaxes. He looks at you, his amber eyes softening. "Let's go," he says, leading you out of the library.

You're not sure they'll stop their nasty comments towards you, but for now, an easy smile spreads on your lips and warmth blooms inside you.

…

The following days bring a surprising calm to your interactions with Tsukishima. The library incident becomes a turning point, and the creeps keep their distance. As weeks pass, your relationship with him turns into something more than a friendship and more profound. The protective facade turns into genuine concern, and you find solace in his company. The popular, mysterious boy on the rooftop becomes a constant presence in your life, with texts and late night calls.

The school year progresses, the fake relationship becomes less about keeping up appearances and more about what you feel inside. The rooftop meetings turn into genuine conversations, and the agreement transforms into a shared understanding. Like something more than a friendship, but less than a romantic relationship.

As graduation approaches, you can't help the bittersweet feeling that grows inside you. Uncertainty about your future makes its way to your mind in the form of anxiety and dreams about Tsukishima ending things with you. It makes you feel stupid, there's nothing there to end.

You can't deny there are some feelings for him inside you.

“I got in.” He interrupts your thoughts, making you look up from him from your egg sandwich. It's a breezy February afternoon, and you're on lunch break, back on the rooftop. He's leaning on the railway and you're sitting on the bench as usual. “Sendai University.”

The sandwich is soon forgotten as you get up and wrap your arms around his shoulders, smiling widely at him. “Congratulations!” You mumble on his neck, your soft lips touching the skin of his neck.

Tsukki takes half a second to hug you back. In the past few weeks, physical contact has become more common between. Although he's still not used to it, he welcomes you gladly as the warmth of your body radiates to him.

“Seems like we're going to the same university,” he says with a smirk. Looking into his eyes, you remember, just last week telling him you've been accepted at Sendai University as well.

“Yeah…” you breathe, fully aware that your lips are centimeters apart.

He would've kissed you. You swear, if it wasn't for the bell ringing just in time for you to pull away and him clear his throat. A blush stained his cheekbones pink as you smiled to yourself. Your story with him isn't over yet.

…

The day before graduation is filled with tears and laughter. You say goodbye to your friends you know you won't see until tomorrow, swim at the gymnasium pool for the last time and wait for Tsukishima by the volleyball gymnasium, sipping strawberry milk you bought from the vending machine.

You don't turn around when you hear him and his friends leaving the gymnasium, or when you hear one of them point you out. You don't turn around when you hear his footsteps approaching you. When he stands in front of you, your eyes meet his. He's smirking, sweat glistening on his skin.

You don't care.

The strawberry milk box falls on the ground as his lips press against yours.

His skin is soft as you wrap your arms around his sweaty neck. Gasping when his tongue brushes against yours in a messy kiss, you pull him closer.

Kissing Tsukishima is even better than you imagined. He’s warm and comforting, and he seems to know what he’s doing. For once, he doesn’t care about the people around, being seen with you became a second nature to him, but it doesn’t make him uncomfortable anymore.

It never will again.

#gabiwrites.txt #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tsukki x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei

1K notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 4 months

Text

NATIONAL ANTHEM- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Rich! Peter x Country Club! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You work at the local country club as a barcart girl and you run into your crush, aka the son of the richest man in town-Peter Parker. Simple flirting becomes something... more.

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing, drinking :)

i'm your national anthem, god, you're so handsome- take me to the hamptons, bugatti veyron... he loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon -national anthem, lana del rey

Money is the anthem, of success- so before we go out- what’s your address? You hummed along to the sweet melody as it trickled out of the old stereo from your cart, speakers crackling slightly.

It was a hot summers day, you felt a little bead of sweat drip down the back of your neck as you breathed in the fresh air, smelling of fresh cut grass and fancy colone. It was days like this when you were most busy on the golf course, barley able to squeeze in a lunch break before someone came up to you, begging for a whisky sour.

But today you had tucked yourself away in a little hidden spot, a perfect view of scenery, the green hills stretching on for miles.

Sipping on a sweet ice tea from your straw you fiddled with, you watched as Peter Parker braced himself before swinging, club hitting the ball with a clean wack! before thudding down near the hole.

The wind rustled the flag and the fabric of his polo shirt, hair ruffled under his baseball cap.

You tried not to stare but it was impossible.

The way he smiled was intoxicating, and the way he laughed at his friends jokes… god you hoped to make him laugh like that someday.

Though he was almost four years older, the two of you had met during your freshman year of university. You weren’t close, but you werent strangers either. The odd hello was said, a smile and a passing glance in the library from his books.

Now you were practically about to graduate and he was working on his masters, his school out of state. He was home for the summer though, which was nice.

It just meant you could possibly serve him, which also made you anxious beyond belief because that meant you had to talk to him again. You took a bigger sip until you heard the straw suck up the bottom of the glass and the melting ice to ease your butterflies.

Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck- I said can we party later on he said yes, yes, yes!

Another deep breath.

He walked in your general direction, but you doubted he could see you. You prayed the low hanging branches covered you, or at least your face. You tried to look out at the rolling hills in the distance, admiring the scenery.

It was very out of your element, but you couldn’t deny the fact it was beautiful here. The ever so fancy country club estate glimmered in the sun, tall hedges trimmed to perfection with roses blooming in the gardens.

You could just see the tall fountain spilling water down, next to the tennis court. Sometimes you worked the bar there, or handed out water and towels, but you preferred being a cart girl.

It made your life much more interesting, to drive around and to see more people. Today you got to see your favourite person.

And apparently he got to see you.

The branches rustled and got pulled to the side, a buff, 6’4 man staring down at you. “Hey sorry, am I bothering you?”

You almost choked on your straw as you bite down on it. “No, no sorry I was just on my break. But how can I help you?”

“Oh shit my bad, I’ll leave you to it-“ He went to turn away, then stopped. Whipped back around.

“Wait- Y/N? Is that you?” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah hey Peter.” you smiled.

“Jeez it’s been a while! I missed seeing you around. How’s life been?”

He missed you?! No, he missed seeing you. That’s different. Get a fucking grip woman.

“I missed you too! Or- wait erm… It’s been good! How’s life at Warner?”

His eyes brightened as you stumbled over your words, pleased you remembered where he was.

“It’s good. Super good. Lots of sunshine, and I’ve made some friends.”

“Not failing anything I hope?” you teased and he laughed.

“No, no I would never. But it’s good to be home for the summer. How’s your program going?” he asked, taking off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair, slicking it back from falling back into his eyes.

You tried not to stare at his arms but it was deemed impossible. His shirt fit him so well, his biceps strained in the fabric as they curled, and you could see whispers of a tattoo on his one arm. Jesus Christ.

“Super good. Almost finished, actually. Not sure what’s next, but working here has helped pay for most of it.”

“That’s awesome, you should be so proud. You’re a hard worker Y/N, seriously. You’ve always been.”

You almost melted at his praise, sinking deep into your seat as your tennis skirt fanned out across your thighs. There was no way he didn’t know about the effect he had on you. He had to know he drove you crazy.

“Thank you so much Peter. It means a lot coming from you.” You beamed.

“Awh shucks. Well anyways, I just came because I saw a cart over here and was going to snag a drink, but if you’re on break I won’t bother you.”

“No, no don’t be silly. What can I get you?” you scrambled up, popping open your cooler filled with ice and drinks. “You’re sure?” he asked, standing closer to you, to see what you had.

You squirmed, shivering even though there was no breeze. “Of course. I’m practically done it anyways. Happy to help.” you smiled, trying your very best to be professional and not look at him like you wanted to rip his clothes off at this very second.

“Just a Heineken please doll.” The pet name was going to make you spirial. Jesus. “That’s all?”

“That’s all. I’m easy like that.” You grabbed a cup, scooping ice before pouring the chilled beer. “Here. It’s on the house.” you handed it to him, setting down the empty glass. He shook his head, fishing into his pocket.

“Don’t be silly. Here-“ he handed you a hundred and your eyes widened in surprise and shock.

“For your troubles.” he smirked. “Peter- I can’t, I can’t take this.”

“Then take this too.” He pulled out a tiny slip of paper, crumped as if it had been in his pocket for some time. You opened it, revealing his phone number in fancy writing- the cursive that reminded you of your grandmothers. A little smiley face was printed next to it, which you mirrored back.

“Have you just had this in your pocket in case you bump into a girl?” you asked, laughing.

“I found out you worked here and I wrote it down, waiting until I had an excuse to bump into you. Now I have one.” he winked, lifted his glass in a cheers motion before turning around, emerging from the forest to jog up to his friends.

You watched him in disbelief, jaw slack on the ground. You fought to pick it back up, trying to not crumple the paper anymore as you held onto it for dear life. A wave of giddiness washed over you, your body hot to the touch, head spinning. Clutching the paper to your chest, you sighed.

Simply hoping something would actually come out of this.

For once in your life.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Something was coming out of this. Key word, was. Lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if it was currently happening, could’ve happened, or had happened.

It had been a week since the original occurrence, when he had you nearly swooning and begging at his feet. Each day was a little game the two of you played, who could spy on each other first.

It had you picking up extra shifts, just to possibly see him that day, or for longer. The past few days you had worked at the bar by the tennis court, watching the ball bounce back and forth until a familiar face found his way to your bar, despite the fact he was on the opposite side of the property, and had bar carts at his disposal.

It made you feel like a teenage girl again, kicking your feet at the slightest interaction. If he wasn’t at your bar, he had found time to walk past your station (which was always very much out of his way), just to give a little wave, or to check up on you.

A few little texts had been exchanged, nothing more then simple, harmless flirting. That’s what you were telling yourself, and that was the story you were sticking to. Nothing more then that. So whenever he came over to fiddle with the straws, or suck the lemon wedge dry without making a face just to prove he could, you smooshed the feelings of need deep down, as much as you could.

Today was no different.

It was hot, one of the hottest days of the summer. You fanned yourself with a clipboard, thankful for the first time you were working in the bar by the tennis court, where it was air conditioned.

You didn’t understand how people could continue to play as if their life depended on it in the hot, beating sun. It was torturous to watch. You were extremely busy, barley getting a moment to sit down and rest your poor, aching feet- dozens of people swarming the bar for a cool drink.

Ice had to be refilled two times already, and you presumed it would be another two times before your shift was over.

“Busy there eh?” a familiar voice called from across the counter, and for the first time all day you were genuinely happy to serve someone.

“You again! It’s almost like you’re stalking me, or something.” you teased, quickly dropping everything you were doing to go over to see him.

“Something like that. Hey listen, I have a question to ask you.”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it, I swear. The cops have nothing on me.” His eyes widened in mock surpise and his hands went up in surrender.

“Woah. Jeez, I’ll let them know. I have no idea how you found out I was working for them but I guess my disguise is shit.”

“It is shit. I’ve been keeping tabs on you to give you tips on how to be more discreet.” He laughed, swatting you with a straw he grabbed.

“No seriously, my parents are out of town and I was going to throw a party, but I won’t unless you come to it.”

“Well shit, that’s a lot of pressure. You’re basing this whole thing on me going, so if I don’t go everyone will be disappointed at me for cancelling it?” you teased, grabbing the ingredients to make his usual.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I don’t mean it like that. But I’d like you to come, it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

“I don’t really socialize, so I’m sure no one would miss me. Plus, no one knows me.”

“I know you. And I would miss you, and you’re the only person I care about in terms of showing up.”

You smiled softly as his confession, trying to play it cool despite the fact your stomach was currently doing cartwheels. You didn’t even know if you were making his drink right, you prayed muscle memory would save you this time.

“You’d miss me? You just wanna talk to me more, do you like me or something?”

“Or something.” he smirked, smacking a twenty on the table, and you didn’t even bother to give him back his change. He refused to accept it back, you had already tried.

“Thanks for the drink sweetcheeks. It’s on Friday, and if you don’t show I’m gonna call the whole thing off, mid party and then everyone’s gonna be pissed at you.”

“Or at you for making up that stupid rule.” you snarked, sliding him over his glass, and grabbing a clean towel to wipe down your space. You could already feel two peoples eyes on you, waiting for a drink. They could wait a little longer.

“Show up then.” he shrugged. “But wait, I don’t even have your address-“ you called after him as he walked towards the exit, back towards to the heat and blinding sun. He waved his phone, without even looking back.

“Good thing we have these then eh sweets?”

“Smartass.” you grumbled under your breath as his laughed, and you watched the door swing behind him as you were stuck behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” you asked the stranger sitting near you, wishing more then anything it was Peter still there instead.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

He was massive. Wait no- sorry, his house was massive. (Did you seriously think you’d jump the gun that quickly? Get over yourself).

You stared up at it as you emerged from your car, so out of place in this fancy establishment. He lived not only in a gated community but his property was privately gated as well.

Didn’t shock you.

You knew his family was rich, but jesus you didn’t know this rich. Dozens of cars were parked, all range rovers and catialcs as you locked your simple looking black civic.

Oh well. He invited me after all.

You belonged here. You were allowed to be here, no matter how many second thoughts you had looking at the fancy fountain, the perfectly manicured lawn and ferns, a perfect cone shape as they lead up to the massive pillars and white staircase.

You had dealt with snobby rich people before at your job, and you could do it again. Not that Peter was snobby in any way. If anything, he was one of the only ones you knew who was humble and down to earth. Hopefully his friends would be the same.

You smoothed out your mini dress, attempting to get rid of the wrinkles. Nervous, you figited with the pearls on your neck, listening to your heels clack on the pavement before you found yourself up the stairs.

You heard music, but it wasn’t as loud as you expected. No thumping floors or shaking walls, and you couldn’t see any flashing lights. You weren’t even sure what you expected. But it certainly wasn’t this. This seemed oddly calm. You could still clearly hear the cicadas as they chirped outside under the stars.

You lifted your hand to knock, and the double doors swung open as your hand was mid air, mouth opening in confusion.

“You’re not Peter.”

“So you’re observant too. You’re prettier then he described you. He’s been watching out the window for you like he’s on guard duty.”

“Bucky stop flirting with my girl!” a voice called from the other room, and you watched as Peter emerged from the other room, jogging over to you with a smile.

My girl? You fought a smile, trying to pretend his words meant nothing but you lost. Bad.

“Hi. Sorry I was just-“

“Waiting for me. I heard from your friend here. It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” you nodded, laughing as Peter’s cheeks turned a lighter of light pink.

“Likewise. Go into greater detail next time Parker.”

“No, because then you dicks will try to steal her.”

Bucky laughed, walking back in the direction Peter came from, which you assumed was where the main party was. You looked around, surveying the massive foyer- tall pillars also inside, bright chandeliers glistening over the towering staircase.

It was beautiful. You couldn’t help but admire the mural on the ceiling, mimicking a Renaissance style piece.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. You look beautiful, by the way. I mean you always do- but you look amazing now. Sorry I’m not sure why I’m rambling, I just smoked a joint and I’m nervous.” he trailed on and you laughed, reaching up to touch his bicep in reassurance.

You weren’t sure where the confidence came from, but you were happy about it. His skin was soft and warm, and he leaned into your touch.

“Don’t be nervous. If anything, I’m nervous. This is your party! And it’s so- wow.” you breathed, looking up again at the fresco.

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you. You’ve already met Bucky, I see.”

You giggled. “Hopefully they all like me. Are they friends from school?”

“Some from school, some from home, some from the country club.”

“Ah I see. So a wide variety.”

“Something like that.” he smirked, placing a hand on your lower back as he guided you towards a mysterious hallway. The hand placement. Oh my god the hand placement. You savoured his touch as he guided you, looking up at him despite wearing heels.

Somehow he still towered over you. It made you feel things.

You heard bustle from the room he was guiding you towards, the sound of music leading you onwards. Dozens of people mingled around what looked like a game room. Some lounged on leather couches with drinks in their hands, others playing a round of pool.

You saw Bucky and some others with a deck of cards, others at the bar top. It was spacious, detailed wood panels across the ceiling, with soft lights mounted on the walls, creating a glow. You admired the dozens of paintings perched on the walls, staring at Peter in amazement.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Thanks.” he smiled, taking it in with you, as if he didn’t see this every day. It made you like him even more somehow, if that was possible.

“Hey everyone this is Y/N. Party is no longer threatened to get cancelled. You’re welcome.” he called out, and everyone cheered.

“To Y/N” Bucky called out in toast, raising his glass. They didn’t even use solo cups. This shit was fancy as fuck.

You laughed, waving to everyone before Peter pulled you aside, the music picking up its tempo as the chatter resumed. “Can I get you a drink? For once?” he asked, and you nodded- following him over to the bar.

“It’s nice to see you behind the counter for once.” you smirked, giggling as he whipped a towel over his shoulder like a real bartender. “What do you mean for once? I will let you know that I am the most prestigious bartender in France. They don’t even call me a bartender, the call me “tender of the bar” " he drawled.

“Just a cider please. I’m easy like that.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank god. I don’t know how to make anything but a whisky sour.”

“Hey, that's a start!” you smiled, watching as he grabbed a chilled glass and slid ice in it, before pouring your drink from the can. “Madame.”

“Thank you, monsior. Mmmm fantastic. You should work with me!” He snorted, throwing the towel down. “They would fire me before I could pick up a glass. You’re too talented, you'd outshine me. You already do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Silly is my middle name.”

“I thought handsome was your middle name?”

“Alright woah now-“

----------------------------------------------------------------- A few hours had passed, and the night was still young. You were drunk, a little- and your shoes had come off. You didn’t know where they went, or where your phone was, or why you were outside with Peter.

But you were outside with Peter. And it was nice.

The air was chill against your skin, but not cold enough you had goosebumps. It was soft against your flushed skin from the alcohol, and you savoured the breeze as it fluttered your dress. Everyone was still inside, but you needed a breather.

You could see the lights shinning brightly from here, where you were on the pool deck. Because of course he had a pool. He also had a tennis court, a golf course, and an indoor pool. No surprises there.

You heard the sliding glass door open and shut, Peter emerging with glasses of water in hand. “I figured you’d want this.” he said, walking over to you with a grin, and a fluster on his cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” you sighed, the water trickling down your hand as you grabbed the ice cold glass, taking a long chug. It cleared your head as it slithered down your throat, relieving your thirst.

“So, is it okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Here. This. Me.”

You stared at him, cocking your head in interest, attempting to study him. “It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

“You think so?” he asked, a glimmer in his eyes as he stepped closer to you, your chests practically touching as he grabbed your empty glass, setting it down beside you.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid up, cupping your cheek- thumb brushing your skin making you shiver. Your nipples hardened under his touch- or the chill, you didn’t know.

All you knew was that his eyes were burning holes into yours with the utmost lust you thought you’d simply combust.

“Is it okay if I touch you here doll?”

You nodded.

“What do you want Y/N? Do you want this?” he asked, voice practically begging. The music from the party thudded off the windows, lyrics slipping through the cracks under the doors to echo into your ears.

I sing the national anthem while I am standing over your body hold you like a python, and you can’t keep your hands off me or your pants on, see whatcha done to me, King of Chevron…

“I want this. I want it all.” you murmured, leaning into his touch.

“Can you swim?” he whispered, inching closer and closer to your lips.

Wait- what?

“Ye-” you let out a scream as you felt the world tilt under your feet, tumbling backwards into the hands of a strong man holding your waist. A splash erupted, the world turning a murky dark blue as the music muffled. The water was surprisingly warm as you gasped for air, frantically reaching out for Peter to hold.

He was even warmer than the water despite the cool air, and he laughed as you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his torso, dress hunched up as it stuck to your body like a second skin.

You became very much aware of how his shirt did the same, except it was white, and you could see the perfect outline of his abs and his arm tats.

“Peter what the fuck?!” you shrieked, cut off as his lips crashed to yours, engulfing you with heat and a tenderness you’ve never felt before.

His lips were like pillows as they caressed yours, hands squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist as he tugged you closer and closer, until your breaths had merged and you had practically become one.

Hands flew up to his hair, tugging on the wet strands as he begged for more, and more- teeth clashing, tongues begging for entrance before they slipped in.

You couldn’t help but moan, breathing harder as his squeezed your ass hard enough to bruise, unleashing whatever restraint he had been holding. You moaned again and he had to pull away, resting his forehead against yours, breathing hard as he watched your mascara smudge and trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N fuck- if you keep moaning like that… I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you asked innocently, shivering.

“I’m trying so hard to be a gentleman and not go past this, but if you keep doing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” he murmured, bringing a hand up to stroke a stray strand of water from your cheek, kissing each one.

“That’s okay.” you smiled, grinding your hips against his, rubbing against him as he moaned.

“Jesus christ baby. Fuck.”

You giggled, feeling his very prominent bulge through his pants. You grabbed his chin, lips melting against his once more, just to get a taste of him. You were addicted- heart thudding in your chest, blood turning to molten lava in your veins.

It was like his lips were coated in honey, so sweet you practically licked them. “You’re just so sweet.” you sighed into his lips, kissing him harder. It wasn’t long before you were interrupted, the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

“You guys almost done out here?” Bucky called out, Peter's head whipping to him in annoyance.

“ What do you want?!” he called out, exasperated. “Steve and I wanna swim. Unless you guys want us to join you, I’m sure there wouldn’t be too many complaints on this end.” Bucky smirked, winking at you.

What a goddamn flirt. You couldn’t help but smile back, even if he had just interrupted the best experience of your entire life.

“We’ll be out in a minute Bucky- calm down.”

“No need!” a voice called from the house, to which Steve ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing you.

Peter sighed, leaning his forehead back against yours. “I am so sorry about them. This is not as romantic as I had hoped in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about? This is totally romantic. The drenched rat look I’m wearing is what the movies had envisioned.”

He laughed, kissing your forehead with a quick peck, before Bucky jumped in right after. “The most beautiful drenched rat I’ve ever seen. I promise you, we’ll have time for this again.”

“Many times?” you asked flirtatiously, and he nodded.

”Many times.”

“Good. Now, I suppose we should all play mermaids now. What powers do you wanna have?”

445 notes · View notes

system-to-the-madness · 7 months

Text

Secret Notes and Misunderstandings - Sugawara Kōshi x Reader

Pairing: Sugawara Kōshi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 3 420 Warnings: Use of y/n, Tanaka and Noya Summary: You receive secret notes from someone. If only they were from your crush Suga A/N: I’m not really happy with the style of this one…

Masterlist

It had to be every schoolgirl’s dream, receiving cute notes written by a secret admirer, pushed into her locker every morning. And the notes were cute, they really were. Never creepy or offensive, just sweet.

It had started almost a month ago. One morning you had opened your locker, only to find a small note fluttering out. Not recognizing it, you had unfolded the paper that seemed to have been ripped from a Kanji exercise book. In an unfamiliar handwriting, using what seemed like a fine 0.3mm black ink pen, a few words had been scribbled down, making a smile pull at your lips.

“I’m too shy to tell you this in person, but your presentation on the United Nations yesterday was crazy good.”

You had folded the note back together, and placed it in your pencil case, where it made you smile every time you glanced at it.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Sugawara, your classmate, had grinned when he had passed you during lunch break on this way to the sink.

You had shrugged, your heart beating faster when you had realized that Suga had addressed you. The feeling that ran through your body at every interaction with him was so different from the feelings the note had sparked, so much better.

The notes had started that day, and there had not been one day of school since then, that there hadn’t been one shoved into your locker in the morning. Over time they had gotten more personal, leaving less and less doubt about the author’s attraction to you. He (and you knew it was a guy by the words he used), was never offensive or creepy, just plainly sweet, complimenting the hair clip you had worn the other day, or sometimes even admitting how he wished he would be brave enough to talk to you normally, without these notes.

And the more he revealed his own thoughts, his own insecurities and wishes, the more he revealed of his heart, the worse you felt. The notes were cute, sweet, and normally you would have been dying to know who went through all the effort just for your sake. Maybe you would have been trying to find out who it was and asked them out, just because you felt like after all the effort he had made, he deserved you take a risk too.

But no matter how much you wanted to feel excited and honoured by these notes, there was still Suga. Suga who was in the same class as you and your mysterious admirer, Suga who was working hard in every subject, who helped the other students when they struggled, who laughed loud and unashamedly in the breaks, who’s smile was warm like summer sun beams, even when it was only late February. So really it was Sugawara’s fault, you thought to yourself, that you couldn’t reciprocate the feelings these notes conveyed. If it weren’t for your stupid, stupid, unrequited crush on him, you’d have tried to get into contact with the author of these notes weeks ago. But your heart was hopelessly hung up on someone else, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to let these feelings go.

So, when you stared down on what had to be the boldest note yet, you felt a little sick.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you to sit with me for lunch for weeks now, but every time I think about getting up and asking you, I get so nervous that I can't even think properly anymore. Maybe I’ll ask you tomorrow. I want to make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. What do you think?"

The nervousness of the author as he had written these words and then pushed the note into your locker was basically seeping out of the paper into your hands, pleading you to be as nervous about him as he was about you. But instead, you knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak. This had to stop. Now. You had allowed this boy to bring up his hopes for far too long now. You had to end this. Even if it would hurt him. Even when you would feel awful for breaking his heart. But it was better to end this now than to have him work up the courage to face you and then tell it into his face.

Although he did deserve a gentle let down, he didn’t deserve to torture himself before it. So, after your last class, you ripped out a page of your notebook and grabbed one of your pens. During class, between paying attention to the teachers’ words and the way Suga was bouncing his leg under the table on the other side of the classroom, you had mentally prepared what you wanted to write.

“Dear friend, thank you very much for all the notes over the past weeks. I have enjoyed reading them, but I’m sorry to tell you that I can’t reciprocate your feelings. I already have someone I like, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you keep hoping I will return your feelings. In fact, I should have told you this a lot sooner, and I’m sorry for the pain I’m causing you now. Let this be the last exchange.”

You had been tempted to add words of reassurance or comfort, but you were worried they might make him hope against hope that you would eventually return his feelings. When the last class was over, you used a thin strip of washi-tape and stuck the note to your locker so it was blocking the little gap in the door. This way the note couldn’t possibly go unnoticed by whoever had sent you the others.

The next morning rolled around, and you were almost nervous, when you took off your shoes and placed them in the rack, going to your locker to grab your books for the day. The note you had stuck to its door the day prior was gone, and you already feared someone else might have removed it, but when you opened the locker, no new note came sailing out. You were almost a little disappointed. But you had asked him to stop writing, so you had gotte what you wanted. This was for the best. Let him be disappointed or maybe even a little heartbroken, and by next week he would have moved on.

When you entered the classroom, you found, much to your surprise, that yesterday’s note hadn’t been the last. Instead, someone had placed two wrapped onigiri on your table, and a note underneath. Up until now, the paper had always been torn neatly out of notebooks, the signs evenly paced and written with precision. This time, even though it was the by now familiar handwriting, the page seemed to have been ripped out in haste, the words smeared over the paper, smudging the ink.

“I already made these, and I thought you should have them. If you don’t want them, leave them on the desk during lunch break and I’ll take them back. This is my last note. Thanks for your honesty.”

You bit your lip, staring down at the paper. You could tell his hand had shaken when he had written this note. While nervousness had seeped out of the other notes, this one seemed to ooze pain. He’ll get over it, you thought to yourself, over me.

Quickly you crumbled the note in your hand, pushing the onigiris to the edge of the table, not intending to eat them. With a few steps you made your way to the paper basked, discarding the final note of your secret admirer. On your way back to your desk, your eyes skipped over to where Suga was sitting, as always when you got the chance.

He sat backsided on a chair, arms crossed over the backrest, chin propped on his lower arm. He had taken off his jacket, leaving him in the short sleeved, white button-up of the uniform. Warm spring sunlight flitted in through the window, catching in his silver hair and making it gleam like star light. He looked angelic, you thought to yourself. Even though Daichi was telling him something, and laughing at his side, Suga barely seemed to listen, his gaze absentmindedly directed into the distance. He looked pale, you realized, pale and tired. Hopefully he wouldn’t get sick in the last weeks of the school year.

Suddenly his gaze drew away from wherever he had stared of to, and directed itself to you instead. You felt like your heart almost stopped at the way his coffee brown eyes bore into you, and feeling your cheeks heat up, you lifted your hand to wave at him with a smile. Instead of returning the gesture, he only seemed to tense, before tearing his eyes away from you and sitting up, saying something to Daichi instead.

Confused at his unusual reaction, you walked back to your seat, sitting down. The onigiri in front of you seemed to mock you, and far more frequent than usually your gaze flickered over to Suga during the day. His mood didn’t seem to better though, and in fact it grew only grimmer when he caught you staring at him once.

You were not the only one who seemed to pick up on his unusual behaviour, because as the bell rang for lunch break, you overheard Daichi ask him if everything was okay. Suga only answered he was fine, even though he sounded upset and annoyed, but the rest of the conversation got drowned out by the voices of other students.

Like every day, you left the classroom at the beginning of lunchbreak to refill your bottle at the water fountain in the hallway. Today you made sure to take an extra few minutes; hopefully giving the author of the notes you had received enough time to retrieve the onigiri from your desk. And sure enough, by the time you returned to the classroom, they were gone.

The rest of the day went by without any other incidents, unless one counted Suga’s terrible mood. Even across the classroom it seemed to rub off on you. Originally you had wanted to pay closer attention to the other boys, trying to see if anyone’s behaviour differed from usually which might give them away as the author of the messages, but instead your focus was entirely on Suga and what you could do to cheer him up.

When the last class ended, and you still hadn’t thought of anything useful to say to Suga, you just opted for a wave and a smile, as you usually did, bidding him goodbye before heading off to your club. But unlike all the other days, he ignored you completely, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and your heart heavy.

It was already growing dark outside when you hasted through the corridors of the school again. Your club had finished only a few minutes ago, when you had remembered there was a book you needed for homework, so you were on your way back to the lockers. You had almost reached them, when suddenly the voices of two students made you stop.

“He explicitly said not to get involved,” the one nagged.

“But have you seen him? Can you really just stand by and watch him suffer like that,” the other voice replied.

Carefully you snuck around the last corner, finding two boys standing in front of your locker. Even in the dim light you could make out the one’s buzzcut and the other’s unruly hair. They were both in the year below you, you realized, and members of the volleyball team, teammates of Suga’s. The one with the unruly hair was trying to push a piece of paper through the gap below the door into your locker.

You were about to ask them what they were up to. After all, neither of them couldn’t have been the one writing the notes you had received; that person was in your class. You knew that from the references to your classwork he had been making.

“You know, he’s gonna hate you when he finds out you got involved.”

“So what, let him hate me! As long as he gets his girl! (Y/n) just has to give him a second chance!”

“Who am I supposed to give a second chance,” you asked out loud, stepping out from behind the corner.

The two boys jumped in surprise as your presence, the one with the unruly hair, quickly hiding a piece of paper behind his back.

“Well, you see, the thing is our set-,” he started, immediately receiving a harsh nudge from his friend.

“And what were you trying to push into my locker,” you added. Usually you were not very intimidating, but being a year older than them had its perks: they had to respect you. Demanding, you held out your hand.

The boy with the blond streak in this dishevelled hair shot his friend a side glance before stepping forward and dropping the paper into your outstretched hand.

“Have you been the ones putting notes into my locker,” you asked.

“Yes, well, no. Maybe. Sometimes,” the boy with the buzzcut answered. Tanaka, you remembered.

“What is it now. Have you or have you not?”

“Sometimes,” the other one – Nuka? Nayo? Noya? Oh yes, Noya was his name – answered. “Sometimes we delivered them for our friend, when you had club late and there was the chance of you running into Su-“

He got interrupted by another shove between his ribs. He coughed.

Biting your lip, you twirled the paper between your fingers. You could find out who had sent you all these notes, you realized. You just had to ask now. Tanaka would probably be quiet, but Noya seemed eager to make you like whoever had sent them to deliver them. But did you want to know? Did you really want to go to class tomorrow, look at the person who had written these notes and pretend you didn’t know?

“Please,” Tanaka interrupted your thoughts. “Can’t you give our friend a chance? We know you like someone else, but you’ll forget about that guy in no time, I promise! Our friend is like- he’s the best guy there is really. He’s smart, and patient, and funny-”

“Charming, good-looking, athletic,” Noya continued. “A little chaotic sometimes maybe, but he has like the biggest heart-”

You shook your head. “Listen guys, Tanaka-kun, Noya-kun. I appreciate your effort and I know you just want to see your friend happy, but as I already wrote him: there is someone else I like, and it wouldn’t be right to let your friend hope that my feelings will change eventually. That’s just not fair.”

“But you should’ve seen him today during practice,” Noya continued. “He was not himself! He was devastated! And Suga’s ready to let you walk away because he respects you, but I- we think-”

“Wait, wait,” you lifted your hands in the air, signalling him to stop talking. Your heart was racing. “Say that again.”

“He respects you and-”

“No, you said his name,” you disagreed.

The boys exchanged glances.

“He’ll kill you,” Tanaka mumbled to Noya.

“Did you say Suga,” you asked.

Their silence was answer enough.

All this time you had wanted Suga to notice you and all this time it had been him who had sent you these notes? And then you had rejected him? Was that why he had been so pale today, why he hadn’t smiled at you today? Because you had rejected him, not even knowing who you had rejected? Your heart dropped and the floor felt like it was giving way beneath your feet. You had to fix that. Somehow you had to fix this stupid, stupid situation.

“Do you have a pen?”

Tanaka rummaged around in his pocket, before handing you a blunt pencil. You took it anyway. Unfolding the paper you had taken from Noya, you placed it against the closest locker, flipping it to its empty side.

“What’s Suga’s favourite onigiri filling,” you asked, glancing at Tanaka and Noya from over your shoulder.

“Salmon,” they answered at the same time without hesitation.

You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure?”

“We talked about it just the other day,” Tanaka assured you.

“He said, he likes them because you like them,” Noya added. You exhaled slowly, trying not to laugh. This sounded so much like something Suga would say.

Putting the pen down, you began writing.

“Noya and Tanaka ranted you out. Don’t be mad at them, I made them tell me. Let’s eat lunch together. I’ll make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. We can eat outside under the plum tree. The blossoms are your favourite, aren’t they?”

Quickly, before you could change your mind, you folded the paper, and pushed it into Suga’s locker, making the two boys exchange wide eyed glances.

“What did you write,” they asked excitedly as you returned to your locker to retrieve the book you had come here for.

“Are you giving him a second chance?”

“You’ll see,” you answered with a smile.

The next morning, Suga was already sitting in the classroom when you entered, like he did every morning. When he saw you sitting down behind your own desk, he quickly exchanged a few words with Daichi, before walking over.

Pink was dusting his cheeks, the colour almost matching that of the plum blossoms outside. He was nervous, you could tell, fiddling around with a piece of paper between his fingers. Watching him walk over, your own pulse spiked. Yesterday you had been filled with confidence when you had written the note, but today it all seemed unreal. That was until he dropped the small piece of paper on the desk in front of you, leaning against the table.

For a moment you looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes nervous but also filled with warmth as he glanced down to you, then you reached for the paper. He had rolled it into a tight scroll, probably an act of nervosity while he had waited for you. For the first time the note didn’t contain any words, only a doodled Smilie. The smile on your face was instantaneous, and quickly you looked back up to Suga, who was full on blushing now.

“I know, I said I’d stop it with the notes, but…” he shrugged bashfully, making you laugh quietly.

“No, that’s okay,” you let him know.

“I do gotta ask though- not that I’m complaining, just curious – what changed your mind?”

He’s still smiling, but you could hear the insecurity in his voice as well.

Inhaling deeply, you settled for the truth. “Turned out the guy I rejected was actually the guy I was rejecting him for.”

Suga just furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What I mean is,” you shuffled in your seat a little, wondering if the words would come any easier if you sat differently or if Suga weren’t nailing you to the chair with the intensity with which he was considering you now. “You’re the guy I was talking about in that note, the person I like. I didn’t know you were also the person sending me these notes.”

Finally, the last bit of hesitation seemed to melt away from Suga. “Lucky then, that I like you, too,” he teased, making your heart stutter and his cheeks tint an even deeper pink. “Sooo, are we eating lunch together?"

You nodded. “I made onigiri, like promised. Is salmon really your favourite filling?”

Suga laughed. “Yeah, it is. Always has been, since I was little.”

He was about to say something else, but was interrupted by the teacher, calling the beginning of the class.

Quickly he pushed away from your desk, winking at you mischievously. This Suga was so very different from the disappointed, heartbroken Suga from yesterday. You knew exactly which one you preferred. He turned around and hurried back to his desk, but not before dropping another note to your table, this one folded several times.

As the teacher began the class, you quickly unfolded the paper under your desk, reading the few words Suga had written down. This time they were a lot neater than the note he had left with the rejected onigiri the day prior.

“I mean it. I really like you too.”

And underneath he had drawn a tiny, almost hesitant doodle of a heart.

558 notes · View notes

hiraethwa · 2 months

Text

one summer day

13 hello, tokyo. where you have a taste of domestic bliss with wakatoshi

<< 12 shoot for the stars. | >> 14 crescendo.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader word count: 1.8k warnings: dysfunctional parental relationship, y/n is on her period important announcement! one summer day is going on break for two weeks, part 14 will be released in 2-3 weeks, more details in a/n at the end of post

frustration, tears, and heartbreak was what it took for you to follow your heart.

your mother was unsupportive of your decision to attend music school instead of going to university and taking on a conventionally stable office job. you had tried to persuade her as best as you could, but every time the topic was brought up, it ended in a heated argument and insults hurled your way.

the last one was the worst, and you still remember each and every one of her parting words. “do whatever you want, y/n. i don’t have a daughter like you anyway.” the anger in her voice forever etched into your mind. she left for another business trip and you moved out before she returned, hurt and scorned.

it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. when has she been your mom for the past eleven years anyway?

yes, you are going to paris in four months. paris, where Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse de Paris offered you a scholarship, the lighthouse on the dark seas guiding you to shore.

and yes, you are moving in with the man you are in love with. what a splendid idea. what could possibly go wrong?

ushijima had, in fact, gone ahead and signed the lease after getting your agreement that night, your request to discuss it beforehand gone unheard. you had panicked, expecting to decline it when you spoke next, and not knowing if you were able to afford the rent.

you recall him giving you an utterly confused look, telling you to not worry about that and that he would take care of it.

so you took it upon yourself to help out wherever you could, making sure he has a proper breakfast before leaving for practice and packing him a bento for lunch. the youtube videos you started watching to expand your available menu helping you curate a balanced and nutritious meal that is sometimes cute, if you had the extra time, courtesy of the food cutters you saw in a shop display one day.

his fingers would brush yours as he takes the knotted furoshiki makeshift handle from you, and you would pretend it does not make your poor heart skip a beat or two.

he had forgotten his food once in the three weeks that you had moved in together, and you had taken it upon yourself to make sure he received his lunch. you were denied entry to the training center, the receptionist mistaking you for a fan, but luckily, one of his teammates who was passing by helped you clear up the misunderstanding.

by the time you got to ushijima, you only had enough time to pull the wrapped bento out of your bag, telling him you would see him at home later, before you had to leave for your french language class that was on the other side of the city.

if you had a moment to spare, you would have seen his teammates tease him for landing such a supporting girlfriend. and his pink cheeks when he does not deny it.

this is the first time you are menstruating since moving to tokyo. the first day of your period is debilitating, to put it simply. there hasn’t been a bad episode in months, but you hadn’t taken in consideration the stress of moving, compounded with your newfound, very real, estrangement from your parents, so you are reaping the consequences today.

you had washed down a couple of pain medications before going about your day, which had been enough for the lighter aches in the recent months. apparently not this time, which is truly delightful to learn as the pain hits you like a train in the middle of class.

your lower back cramped throughout french class, extending down the back of your legs, and the pain in your abdomen stayed a steady dull throb. it took every ounce of your determination and concentration to listen to the lesson, scrawling down notes and ignoring the pain that seemed to take over whenever your mind wandered off.

you weren’t sure how you got through four hours of class, until it finally ended and you found yourself forcing your legs to the nearest convenience store for a strip of pain medication to tide you over until you get home.

the train ride home was no less grueling; the cushioned seats barely provided a hint of relief as you close your eyes and picture anything else but the constant pain intruding on your mind.

mercifully, the medication kicks in halfway home because by the time you close the door to your shared apartment and kick off your shoes in the entryway, the pain has quieted. your energy is drained from the day, however, having just enough to boil some water and pour it into your trusty rubber hot water bottle that is a staple for your periods.

just a quick shuteye, you decide, crawling onto the couch with the hot water bottle sandwiched between your back and the couch and letting your heavy eyelids drop. before you know it, the sound of the lock on the front door turning is stirring you from your sleep and the sun has made its way down the horizon.

“y/n?” a hand pushes back the hair covering your face, waking you up from your slumber that you didn’t realize you slipped into again in the short few minutes. an incoherent noise coming from you as you try to resist the consciousness that slowly floods your mind.

you open your eyes to a frowning wakatoshi. “toshi, you’re home?”

a nod, “have you had dinner yet? it’s late.”

“‘m not hungry, toshi.” you mumble, suddenly remembering the state of the apartment you left it in, your shoes and bag strewn about the hallway.

“you didn’t reply to my texts, but i got you something to eat just in case.” he holds up a takeout bag. right, he had dinner plans with his teammates after practice. the pain had you in its grip so much that you didn’t even check your phone today.

“sorry, i had a rather long day. ‘m just so tired.”

“okay, the food’s in the fridge if you want it.” he calls from the kitchen. you utter your thanks from your fetal position on the couch, head nestled into the cushions before you let sleep pull you under once again.

you feel like no time has passed between then and now as wakatoshi gently rouses you from your sleep, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, having just showered. “go sleep in your room.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, feeling needy for once around him, spurred on by your cycle. “the wall is cold, and the couch isn’t.”

his eyes soften at you as he checks the temperature of your hot water bottle. “wait here, i’m gonna refill the hot water for you.”

“not going anywhere, toshi,” you call out, can’t help but admire the corded muscles on his figure as he walks away. you cast your eyes to the singular artwork adorning the living room that you picked up together a week ago as he turns around, hoping he didn’t catch you staring in your moment of weakness.

you could feel the intensity of his gaze on you, so you keep your eyes trained on the paintbrush swirls mimicking the crashing waves onto rock. and you keep pretending like he doesn’t already hold your heart in his hands.

you are becoming greedier when it comes to wakatoshi, constantly battling your innermost desires to touch him and hold him, confess your deepest love to him, particularly since you moved in with him. unfortunately, fate has other plans in mind for you, and it would be unfair to him, and you, to act on those desires when you know you are not staying.

“you planning on sleeping on the couch tonight?” his voice breaks you from your thoughts. the voice that soothed your anxiety, that you grew to love.

you nod. “good ni– what are you doing?” you yelp, arms wrapping around his neck in a feeble attempt for self preservation when he scoops you into his arms with minimal effort while balancing the hot water bottle in one hand.

he looks down at you, arching an eyebrow. “the couch is not good for sleeping.”

“i told you, i don’t wanna sleep against the wall tonight,” you squawk indignantly as he walks you towards your room. you try your damndest to ignore the hard muscle on his shoulders that you are holding on to unnecessarily. and the heart that is beating out of your chest.

you have always loved him, but this feels different. an unfamiliar burning in your gut that makes you want to claw at him–and yourself for wanting to do so.

“you’re not,” he says simply, and you find yourself speechless as he pushes his door open.

huh? there is a deafening sound in your head. you realize belatedly that it is your conscious mind screaming internally as he gingerly sets you down on his bed and climbs into the same bed after you. HUH?

you are still rendered wordless when he pulls you into his arms, using his body to prop the hot water bottle up against your aching back. your entire face burns hot as reality sets in that you are in bed, snuggled against the man you love, spooning like lovers.

this is not fair. not fair that he is pulling all these feelings and reactions out of you without even trying to. you are sure your brain is going to turn into mush come morning, unable to comprehend the situation you are in, more like his arms that are cradling you close to his body, alleviating the pain in your back and legs.

you squirm a little in his hold, feeling the stomach cramps returning, your ass brushing against something hard. recognition dawns on you, and you aren’t sure if you can turn any redder than you already are. “sorry, my stomach cramps are back.”

he only flattens his hand against your belly in response, his large palm emanating heat, calming the cramps slowly. you would be lying if you said it didn’t kindle another type of heat in your stomach. a flame that would consume both of you in its blaze if you’re not careful.

“better?” he asks thickly, the word brushing your ear from your proximity. you can only give him a quick nod, your brain failing to form words in your throat.

you are going to faint before you can fall asleep, you think.

thankfully, exhaustion takes over, smoldering the flames in your belly and the blush in your cheeks, and slowly lulls you to the long-awaited painless rest. you feel a fullness in your chest born from wakatoshi’s care for you as you doze off, safe in his arms, and you wonder if this is what could have been if you had more time.

you wonder if this could be forever in another life.

a/n: umm, don't mind me, just squealing in excitement of y/n realizing she wants to climb wakatoshi??? it's just so fucking sweet that she fell for him, is in love with him FOR YEARS, and is now just starting to experience and realize her sexual desire for wakatoshi AHHHH :) regarding update break - i'll still be active on tumblr, just taking a break from writing for one summer day since i'm feeling a little burnt out from keeping on track with weekly updates (i'm really bad at schedules, and this is definitely a lesson on completing a series before posting haha) tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers @brokenscaredakira @whosmarjj @nansfyy @illuzminate

looking for more? browse the collection

reblogs and comments are appreciated! i always enjoy hearing your thoughts and reactions :)

want to be tagged? don't be shy, send me an ask!

169 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 9 months

Text

Ausenal

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You join the other Aussies at Arsenal

"Yeah, all you really need to worry about is if the big girls will let you play with them," Kyra teased from the seat next to you, pinching at your cheek," They might not and then you'll be left on the bench!"

"Kyra!" Steph snapped from the driving seat," Leave her alone!"

"I'm just joking!" Kyra laughed.

You didn't really find it funny. You were a ball of anxious energy as Steph drove you and the rest of 'Ausenal' to training. You and Kyra had, technically, signed for Arsenal on the same day but you had remained stuck in Australia after because you had to sort out some stuff about school so Kyra had already met everybody before you did.

"It's not funny," Steph said," She's scared."

"I'm not scared!" You denied it even though you were definitely scared and, had you not been sitting down, you would definitely be shaking in your shoes.

"You don't have to be scared," Caitlin said, finally looking up from her phone," Everyone's cool. If anything, they'll just complain about another Aussie joining them. We're taking over."

"And by complain," Steph said sternly," She means tease. No one's going to complain about you, munchkin."

"Munchkin!" Kyra giggled, pinching at your cheek as you tried to pull away.

The nickname had stuck ever since your call up to the national team when they went through a bout of injuries that meant that the scrawny nearly-sixteen year old had been deemed one of the next best alternatives and you had never been able to escape since.

Playing with, as Kyra called them, 'the big girls' had been your dream for years but now that you'd made it, you couldn't quite believe it and your shyness had come out in full force.

"Alright," Steph said as you all piled out," Boots?"

"Yeah."

"Socks?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schoolwork?"

"Yep."

"Good." She adjusted your coat and smoothed down the flyaway strands of your hair that were sticking up. "Okay. We're training until lunch and then we've got a two-hour break before the gym session. Do you know what you're doing during that?"

"My schoolwork."

"And, do you-"

"Come on, Steph," Caitlin said, slinging her arm over your shoulder," We've been through this like ten times. Yes, she'll do her homework. Yes, she'll make sure to socialise. Can we go now?"

Steph sighed. "Go on."

Caitlin began to steer you away.

"And make sure she fills up her bottle before training starts!"

The locker room was just as loud as your old locker room back at Perth Glory and it settled you a little bit as you ended up getting changed next to Caitlin, staring straight ahead at your cubby.

The other girls took their time so you were left just sitting on the bench and clicking the heels of your boots together as you waited. You didn't really know your way around so you just had to wait until one of the older girls finished getting ready and took you to the pitch.

"Hey. You're that Australian kid, right? God, I thought Kyra had a baby face."

You looked up and then immediately looked back down.

Jen Beattie was standing in front of you.

"Hi." Your own voice was barely a whisper, hardly even audible over all the noise in changing room.

She leaned a bit closer to you to fully hear and you went rigid. You didn't particularly like new people in your personal space without warning. Hell, it had taken nearly a month for Kyra to be allowed close enough to hug you, let alone pinch your cheek like she did earlier.

"You're not as loud as Kyra, are you?" She asked and it was clear that she was teasing but it still made you feel nervous.

You shook your head.

"She's an angel," Caitlin said," But then again, everybody's an angel when compared to Kyra."

"I'm not that bad!"

"Yeah, sure." Caitlin's arm swung over your shoulders, giving you a little squeeze. "But this munchkin is still an angel."

You kind of wanted the ground to swallow you up. Your cheeks felt hot as the mention of your nickname and you looked bashfully.

"Munchkin?" Jen laughed," I like it."

Caitlin laughed too before steering you out of the locker room onto the pitch. You were thankful that the drills were fairly rudimentary today but still hard enough that everyone was exhausted enough to not talk.

You glanced around as you drained your bottle, skirting out of the way quickly when Kyra approached with her still full bottle, already angling it to squirt towards you.

Usually, you had Mini to protect you when something like this happened but now you had to fend for yourself, darting around the outskirts of the group so Kyra couldn't change you.

You zipped past Lia Wälti and Leah Williamson, sliding past them as Kyra tackled you to the ground. She kept you pinned to the ground with her own weight as she unscrewed the top of the bottle.

You squeezed your eyes shut in preparation but no water came.

"Leah!" Kyra complained," Get off! It was just a joke!"

"It's her first day," Williamson lectured," Don't traumatise her so early. We want to keep her for years."

"Are you okay?" Lia helped you up, patting down your shirt to get the grass scraps off it.

"I'm okay." Just like in the locker room, your voice was barely above a whisper but she didn't seem to mind, just smiling at you.

"Good. I'm glad. Kyra usually isn't that mean, sorry."

"She's not mean." You felt compelled to defend Kyra. "She's just a bit silly sometimes. She doesn't mean harm."

"It's nice that you two are such good friends," Lia said. Somehow, she managed to squish you between her and Leah as you all headed in from training for lunch.

"Mini...er...I mean Katrina, she says that Kyra's got annoying little sister energy."

"Annoying little sister energy!" Leah laughed," Oh, that's gold! I like that!" She swung her arm over your shoulders. "I like you, kiddo."

A piece of nervousness lodged in your chest came loose and disappeared as Leah talked. She didn't seem to need your input much and you were more than happy with that.

Before you knew it, you were sat at a table next to Steph with a full plate and soft conversation washing over you. You still felt nervous around the other girls but you felt more settled than when you first arrived today, most of your antsy energy replaced with good old-fashioned shyness.

"You need to get started on that Chemistry lesson," Steph reminded you as she set you up with your laptop and some snacks," And tonight, you need to remember to call Mini to tell her about your first day."

You nodded, plugging in your headphones and clicking start on the video that was set up for you. You got a decent way through your worksheet before it started numbing your brain and you rolled up the foil of your snack into a little ball and rolled it across the table to Kyra.

She frowned at first before grinning, flicking it back at you. You ducked and grabbed it off the floor to return it. Kyra caught the next shot and you threw it back with enough force that, when you headed it back, it landed in her protein shake.

You both burst out laughing, attracting stares that had you instantly quieting and looking back down at your keyboard.

"Are you being a bad influence again, Kyra?" Kim asked.

"I'm not a bad influence!" Kyra said, picking the ball of foil out of her drink and throwing it back at you.

It was still covered in protein shake so you shrieked and dived off your chair to avoid it.

"She's meant to be studying," Kim continued as you picked yourself up off the floor.

"Give her a break," Caitlin said," Surely all that schoolwork can't be good for your brain."

"That's not how it works," Kim replied.

"Let the kid have a break," Katie inserted herself into the conversation easily and you kind of envied that a little bit," She's been studying for nearly an hour now. I, for one, am pretty sure that Steph said something about making sure she socialised too."

Kim looked like she was mentally groaning but she finally relented. "Fine," She said," But you're explaining all this to Steph."

"Please," Caitlin scoffed as she beckoned you over to sit with her and Katie," She'll be delighted that this munchkin is making friends."

You face was stained red. "You can't keep calling me that," You said to her," It's embarrassing."

"Sorry," Caitlin said, not looking very sorry at all," But with Alanna and Mackenzie not here, one of us has to keep up with embarrassing you."

"Leave her alone," Steph said as she came back into the room, your saving grace.

"She's right," Katie said," We certainly can't call her munchkin, that's her Aussie nickname." She grinned teasingly. "How does pipsqueak sound?"

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

832 notes · View notes

wildemaven · 6 months

Text

strangers : climax | dave york

pairing: dave york x fireader word count: 6307 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, workaholic Dave, Soft Dave, miscommunication, implied/ alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn't know this), Dave's phone deserves its own warning, mention of food and alcohol consumption, a moment in a dressing room where reader inspects her reflection/self image judgments, smut (oral f receiving, fingering, semi public sex, kissing after oral, public affection, some praise if you squint), angst and sad feels, somewhat jealous Dave in a kind of joking manner, lots of tears, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and jeans- but zero description features, no age given but it's implied she's at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: it's finally here!!! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out into the world. I was working through lots of writing blocks, kids, travel, and sickness. But it's finally here!!!! This one is a doozy in so many ways but I'm so excited for it!! I'm so grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, share, comment and like each chapter of this series. I'm sad it's almost over!!

series masterlist | previous | next

It’s almost sadistic. Taunting every single fiber of your being as each chord of the melody, so perfectly orchestrated, looms over the hotel bar.

Your body betrays you. So easily giving in to the song's familiarity as each word reverberates through your chest. Flashes of Dave dressed in black, spinning you in front of your closest family and friends drowned out the urge to ask for the song to be skipped.

The liveliness of the crowd pouring into the dimly lit space helps block out the music. Your fingers swirl around the condensation slowly settling around your drink that sits untouched on the mahogany bar top. Your mind sifting through the day's events leading up to this moment, where you’re sitting alone, annoyance raging in your veins, in a dress you're starting to regret buying.

Lunch was relaxed and pleasant. The oceanfront views of the small cafe were something straight out of a movie. The weather was warm enough to enjoy the patio dining, a subtle breeze cutting through periodically. The ocean swells breaking masked the bustle of beach goers and passing cars. It was everything you had wanted to experience in this beautiful city.

Dave had been fully present since the intimate moment you both shared back at the hotel. More than he had been the entire trip thus far. Keeping you close to him, his hands never leaving you once stepping out of the room. As if to silently say I’m all here with you and I love you.

You relished in the closeness of him. Internally screaming with increasing avidity at his electrifying advances all afternoon.

Pulling your chair closer to where he sat so his free hand could nestle between your thighs. Too focused on twirling the pasta around your fork between discussing the most current events Dave had read in the morning paper while waiting for you to return from your walk.

Growing and falling Stocks. Government scandals that could trickle down and affect parts of his job. National affairs of all levels that jumped out to him. All things you hadn’t really kept up with until meeting Dave, were now things you looked forward to listening to him talk about and giving your input with your own perspective.

It's when Dave starts discussing something about sports or sports related that throws you off balance. Not necessarily so much in what he’s saying, but in what he’s doing when he’s saying it.

“So if they draft him this year, he’ll be a starting rookie…” Dave says as he shifts forward in his chair to adjust his position, hand slightly shifting where it still rests between your legs, his pinky sliding up the crotch seam of your denim with an ample amount of pressure.

“I’ve got money on him this season…” Your mind is too cloudy to even focus on what he’s saying.

An instant jolt of arousal splinters across your body, you use your napkin to hopefully muffle the moan you nearly choke on. Oh! It’s deliberate, Dave’s expression collected and unphased as he carries on, continuing to drag his digit up and down the thick layer of fabric.

“You okay, Honey?” He smirks, applying a little more weight behind his touch, before directing his attention to the server passing by the table and signaling for the check.

“Mmhmm— y-yeah! I’m fine. Great!” Your voice pitches at an unusual tone, frantically nodding in response as you wring the napkin between your fingers trying to not succumb to the pleasure currently building in your core.

It’s a tragic feeling when his hand abandons the heat of your thighs. His focus now is on inspecting the bill, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and tucking the proper amount of cash into the server’s book.

“That’s good.” He says all blasé as he looks at you with deadpan expression, situating his wallet in place again.

“Oh my god— Dave! You are the worst!” You toss your napkin at him, shaking your head as you laugh at his flirtatious behavior.

A proper casualness flows between the two of you following lunch— a familiar domesticity that had become so foreign to you. It now almost seems too far-fetched to think things have been strained in the last few months leading up to today and this seemingly perfect afternoon with Dave.

A stitch of guilt begins to weave through your mind as you take in Dave’s unreserved laughter and the way he looks so, extremely happy. Maybe you were premature in believing that there was anything wrong to begin with.

There’s a liveliness to Dave that has felt so rare to witness as of recently. No signs of stress. No closed off demeanor. No inkling of any distress that threatens to disrupt a marriage you so desperately desire to keep intact.

He’s remarkably your Dave— through and through.

The sun becomes far more dominating as the day passes. It’s fiery intensity has you squinting as you step out of the cute little ice cream shop you dragged Dave into after lunch.

Thankfully you’re more than prepared. A pair of dark sunglasses now perched on the bridge of your nose and the light fabric tank you opted for thanks to Dave’s attentive nature for planning, always checking the weather forecast incessantly as he sips from his morning coffee.

It’s no surprise at the influx of tourists that crowd the sidewalk as you both amble about. Your arm wrapped around Dave, his free hand gently resting at the nape of your neck, both of you working against the heat to keep your ice cream from dripping down the cone.

There’s a silence that hangs around the enjoyment of the summer treat, but it’s not uncomfortable. People watching and window shopping paired with brief moments of sweet banter have seemed to reignite the flame that had slowly begun to dwindle.

“Woah!” A swarm of teenagers rocketing by on skateboards out of nowhere has you stunned, several of them nearly knocking into you.

“What the fuck!” Dave’s quick like reflexes immediately turn on and he’s pulling you into his chest as the last few of the trailing skateboarders roll by. “Get off the sidewalk before you hurt someone, you punks!”

“Yeah yeah! Fuck off old man!” The last of the bunch, a typical backwards hat wearing unphased teen, yells over his shoulder raising his middle finger as he skates off into the distance.

“You okay?” Dave asks, giving you a quick once over.

“I’m fine. They didn’t hit me— just startled me more than anything.” You assure him.

“Still— those little assholes almost sideswiped you. And that little fucker calling me an old man?” Dave grumbles, following your lead to continue walking despite wanting to track down the group and give them a piece of his mind.

“Easy, they’re just having fun. If I remember correctly, you too were once a little asshole. There’s a laundry list of stories your mom has shared with me to back that up too.” He scoffs at your comment, knowing exactly which stories his mom has divulged to you about his wild adolescent years.

Your favorite being when a senior year prank almost resulted in suspension and losing scholarships. Dave and a few of his high school friends had decided to toilet paper and egg the principal’s home one night. The group of teens had thought they pulled it off until they came to school and their pictures were plastered in every classroom— security cameras were not taken into account while planning such a prank. Dave’s parents caught wind of the incident and the missing rolls of TP from their home and forced Dave to turn himself in. Dave confessed as a lone prankster, adamant that he didn’t know who the other students were in the images, resulting in tutoring lower grade classmates the remainder of the semester and a few weekends of community service.

“I’m not an old man.” He murmurs against your temple, pressing his lips to your warm skin. His hand settles into your back pocket directing his attention to his almost finished ice cream.

“Didn’t say you were.” Grinning at his annoyance. “Your mom earlier— How is she? Everything okay?”

“She’s good. Everything’s good. Just checking in. Making sure we’re settling in okay here— you know how she is.” It feels like he’s saying a lot without saying much of anything.

“Yeah— definitely sounds like her. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to her. We should invite them over for dinner when we get back. Proper catch up— share about our trip with them in person.” You look at him, his head nodding along at the suggestion.

You’ve always had a close relationship with his mother, Carol. Weekly trips to the farmers market and coffee dates became a regular thing after you and Dave married. Family dinners took place once a month, rotating between each other’s houses or restaurants. Carol never wanted to be one of those overbearing mother in laws, always making sure that you and Dave didn’t feel suffocated by her and Dave’s dad’s presence.

“Okay. I’ll umm— I’ll call her when we get back. See what her and dad’s calendar looks like. I’m sure they’ll jump at the chance to get together, since our busy schedules haven’t seemed to line up in the last few months.”

“Perfect.”

There’s a beat of silence that follows making plans with his parents. Like there was more he wanted to say but left it unsaid. You don’t push for more and let any needling thought dissolve.

“How was it?” Dave points to the remaining milky soup that’s settled into the top of your semi soggy cone.

“It was delicious.” You tell him, then lapping at a few random drips racing down your wrist with your tongue, savoring the last of its salty sweetness.

“Let me have a taste of it.” He says, pulling you both out of the main flow of people walking behind you.

“What? You don’t even like this flavor, Mr. Vanilla is the only flavor that truly matters.” You playfully mock his go-to choice of a single scoop of plain vanilla, not even a punch of vanilla bean or a sprinkling of chocolate chunks— he’s a simple man.

“Maybe my taste buds have evolved?” He counters, pulling you flush against him under the shade of a store awning. “Give me a taste.”

Everything around you fades to the background, it’s just the two of you. Dave’s lips molding to yours. His tongue gently skims over your lower lip, silently seeking entrance.

It’s unhurried and thorough. A stark contrast from the chilly sensation that still lingers from the frozen dessert and the heat emanating from the way Dave’s tongue languidly traces over every bit of surface he can reach. Dizzying your senses, your mind fully immersed in the way he still tastes of sweet vanilla as he explores every detail of your mouth. Lapping at the remnants of the melted salted caramel that coats your tongue.

It’s vulnerable and thrilling— feeling so right and fully present together.

Your ice cream cone falls from your hand, crashing hard on the cement walkway, giving you the freedom to wrap your hands around his neck and relax even more into the kiss as Dave guides you through it. His hand squeezes your ass through your denim pocket, securing you against him. His other hand cradles your face as he swallows the small moans you produce when he nips tenderly at your bottom lip.

“Dave—“ Is the only coherent word you can think of when he finally breaks the kiss. Your fingers tighten around his short hair as you float back to the ground.

“I like the way it tastes on you. Might be my new favorite flavor.” He smiles, releasing small puffs of his breath over your lips.

It was the first shop that caught your attention, the front display had you stopping in your tracks. Your initial interest to merely window shop, a signal to Dave that you were interested in the possibility of checking out more of their inventory.

“Sweetheart? You doing okay in there?” Dave asks cautiously, as if to not scare off any potential decisions you might be deliberating over from behind the velvet curtain of the dressing room.

It’s nothing new, a song and dance you’ve been through before— turning and inspecting from head to toe. Your mind in an epic battle with the reflection framed in front of you, dreading anytime you step foot in anything that resembles a fitting room.

Except this time you’re not tearing apart every little thing about what you’re seeing, finding all the negative reasons as to why this particular dress isn’t working.

It’s the complete opposite, because you love the dress and you can see yourself wearing it on many occasions without a doubt.

An ambered hue that reminds you of autumn when the leaves turn, and Dave spending hours in the yard gathering pile after pile while you bake a seasonal pie, watching him from the kitchen window.

The tiered tulle fabric plucks a peculiar scene from your memory. Its flowy and dramatic silhouette is reminiscent of the dress you had worn to last year’s CIA Gala. Dave kept you close for the entirety of the evening. Your arm wrapped around his as he talked with colleagues, some new whose names you wouldn’t remember and others who had slowly worked their way into a more permanent place in your lives with regular dinner parties and monumental celebrations. Dave’s hand planted on the small of your back, his thumb drawing soft shapes where your dress strategically exposed your back, you were his grounding force among a sea of highly regarded men and their significant others.

“Hey- is everything okay?” Dave’s head now visible as he pulls the curtain back just enough to check in with you, his hushed tone barely audible over the upbeat music that the trendy boutique has playing through the store.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You say flatly as you continue to inspect your reflection, the hang tag with the bold asking price of the dress held between your restless fingers.

“Wow— Sweetheart, you look… Wow!” Speechless. Dave stands stunned behind you, taking in every bit of you, completely captivated.

“Yeah? It feels like a lot. I have a dress back at the room I can wear instead…” You say, watching the arduous battle he’s sorting through in his mind, his smitten smirk doing wonders to help settle your dress turmoil.

“No— No this, this is perfect. I love it so much. You definitely should get this one.” Dave says persuasively, a beat of sensualism exuding from where he now stands with his chest flush to your back, his hands attempting to bypass the layers of fabric in search of somewhere to efficiently affix himself to you. “Reminds me of that dress you wore to the Gala last year. You looked stunning. So much so I couldn’t keep my hands off of you the entire night. Pulled you into that closet and fucked you while the awards ceremony carried on.”

“Hmm, I remember.” You smile, your stomach flipping at the way he so vividly remembers that evening too. “But the price is a little much though. Like too much.” Dropping the price tag, allowing it to hang freely from the dress instead of mocking your sticker shop distress.

“Don’t worry about the price— it’s fine.” You gasp when he connects with your skin, a shiver zipping up your spine, his lips fervent and assertive as they work up the expanse of your neck.

Dave’s hand catches your head as it tips to the side, allowing him more ample space to roam. Your skin in his teeth triggers a soft whimper in your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you get lost in the sensation of him.

It’s a blur of calculated movements on his part, your body receptive to his smooth control, moving along with ease until your back settles against the wall of the dressing room. The carpeted floor envelops the sound of him falling to his knees. Dave’s eyes glazed over as he stares up at you, their usual golden hue dappled with gleaming eagerness. His hands fumble with the hem of the dress skirt briefly, delighted when he finally manages to breach the abundant layers of fabric. The brush of his fingers on your skin as his hands skim up your legs is all the forewarning you’re given before he’s pulling down and removing the lace panties that you’ve been soaking through all afternoon because of him.

“Dave— what are you doing?” A breathless question, one you don’t really need a response to as he looks up to you one more time, his pointer finger resting on his mouth then lifting your leg over one of his shoulders.

He takes in the sight of your glistening wetness, his mouth watering at how you’re dripping for him. The urge to taste you is strong and he gives into it fully.

From above all you can see is bunched fabric and brown tousled locks when he connects to you, his angular nose pressed into the patch of hair that covers your mound, that first tentative kiss to your sex delicate and heady. The soft pressure of his flat tongue has your eyes rolling back when he starts to lick up and down, savoring the deliciously sweet taste of your arousal. Desire forging through your body with a deep buzzing intensity.

“Oh fuck! If we get caught— Ah!Shit. Dave— Baby, that feels amazing—” You purr in what you hope is a hushed tone, tilting your pelvis just so, a dire need for a climactic release.

Dave’s tongue moves in slow circles, teasing and flicking at your clit. His ministrations causing a slow tingle to build in your lower abdomen, steadily increasing in strength as he goes.

“Ma’am, how’s everything going in there?” The store attendant asks, completely unaware of the lewdness taking place on the other side of the current.

“Mmhmmm! Great! The dress is p-perfect!!” Your voice shoots up an octave when Dave inserts two fingers into your fluttering pussy in one quick thrust, moving them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue on your aching clit.

“That’s so great to hear. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to holler.” She says before you hear the clicking of her boots retreating.

You are squirming and quietly moaning, your knees nearly buckling as the fiery pleasure gains momentum, completely lost in the blissful sensation.

“You hear that, Baby. She said don’t hesitate to holler. Doing so good for me— I can never get enough of you!” His fingers hitting that delicious little spot that makes your toes curl, over and over again.

“Dave— don’t stop!” And he doesn’t.

He senses the tension building in your body, your walls seizing up around his deft fingers, intensifying his movements, his tongue lapping at every inch of your folds as your arousal runs down his hand.

“Baby, I'm coming.” You say right before your jaw goes slack, a silent whine only noticeable to you and Dave fills the small space. Your vision dusted in white, a euphoric sensory cloud of light bursting behind your eyes.

Dave catches you when it becomes too much to stand, whimpering at the loss of his fingers seated so firmly inside you.

Your skin is dewy. Glowing under the small dressing room light. The beads of sweat running down the length of your neck, sliding down the slopes of your breast, migrating somewhere below the fabric of the dress.

Dave catches a few salty drops, his tongue trailing over your clavicle makes you aware that he has removed himself from the underside of the skirt.

You taste the brininess and the sweet tang of your arousal when he licks into your mouth. Zero time to catch your breath, his tongue tangling effortlessly with yours.

“Hmmm— I take back what I said earlier. I love the way you taste— only flavor for me!” He says smirking against your tingling lips.

“You are such a menace. But I love you for it.” You pull him in for one last chaste kiss.

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, then bends to pick up your discarded panties, stuffing them in his front pocket.

“Seems like it would be wrong to not buy the dress after that little move you pulled.” Giggling as you begin the process of undoing the back zipper.

“Knew that would help sway your decision.” He says with an impish grin and wink.

Your reservation has come and gone. 30 minutes to be exact. Misery and frustration fill your veins as you stir the tiny straw in the watered-down concoction. The cocktail-soaked cherry, normally your inaugural sprinkling of how well the drink was mixed, now lays overlooked and forgotten at the bottom of the glass.

The bartender, who checks in with you like clockwork every 10 minutes or so to see if you needed a refill albeit your obvious lack of consumption from the original drink he made, has shown zero annoyance over the fact that you have taken up space in not one, but two chairs at his bustling bar. Your small clutch placed in front of the empty seat reserved for your husband who was supposed to meet you here an hour ago.

Dave and you had made your way back to the hotel after purchasing the dress, giving yourselves plenty of time to get ready for the evening Dave had planned out.

It was hard to keep your hands off each other. a magnetic effervescence had you contemplating whether to call off the reservation all together despite Dave’s ecstatic adamancy to make it to the reservation on time. Both of you managed to work against the intense pull, only sharing shy glances and brushing of limbs standing side by side in front of the bathroom mirror while getting ready.

Dave didn’t shy away from flattering you as he helped zip you in, causing you to fight against tears that threatened to ruin the dramatic makeup that paired perfectly with your dress.

I love you. You are so beautiful. How did I get so lucky? I can’t wait to get you out of this dress later.

Dave’s hand molds to yours, a corner of his mouth lifted as you eagerly drag him from your hotel room. Taking advantage of the privacy the small offshoot hallway provides from the main corridor of the floor, he draws you back to him and without hesitation he kisses you with a fiery tenderness.

“Alright. We need to go.” He says, breathless and not all that convincing.

“Do we though? We could just swipe the key, make our way back inside, order room service— you can get me out of this dress. See what I may or may not be wearing underneath.” You murmur against his smile, your tongue sensually gliding over the underside of his upper lip causing him to release a heavy sigh, as if he really wants to do exactly just that.

“You drive a hard bargain, Sweetheart. And as enticing as all of that sounds— amuse me and go along with what I have planned. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back here and I can slowly undress you.” He counters, leaving you little room to dispute his well thought out plan for the evening.

“Alright, Mr. York. We'll play by your rules.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Dinner. Then straight back here—“

A soft buzzing cuts you off. Dave’s body tenses against yours, releasing you from his hold to retrieve his phone from his black slacks.

“I need to take this— it’s work.” His demeanor completely shifting from his usual sweet carefree self to closed off and mysterious.

“Okay. Call them later then. They can leave you a message.” You reach for his hand to continue to make your way down to the restaurant. He pulls away, promptly taking a few steps back, his focus still on the number flashing on his phone screen.

You’re not sure what hurts more. The fact that Dave is putting work first once again or how he so quickly recoiled when you reached for him.

“I can’t. I need to take it.” He says, finally looking at you with pleading eyes, and you hate how much you so willingly give into his need to brush off the plans he was only moments ago so eager to get to.

“Dave— Fine.” Releasing a heavy sigh into the narrow hallway, tightening your grip on the small purse that holds your phone, lip gloss and key card, doing your best to mask the resentment and defeat simmering just below the surface.

“I’ll be quick. Go grab us a seat at the bar and I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.” He doesn’t give you an opportunity to get another word in, turning to let himself back into the room.

The bottom of your dress floats in the air, kicking out with each step you take, making your way to the main hall of the floor in the direction of the elevator. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone yet again. Suppressing your swirling emotions for the time being.

Dave’s hushed voice echoes down the walls. Never actually making back into the room before answering the call. Out in the open. Zero care that his wife is still within earshot.

“Hey, Ashley… Yeah, she just left. I told her to just wait for me at the bar.”

You stop dead in your tracks. The swish of your dress is now still at your feet, hanging in its normal wearing state. Your blood runs cold as your brain rapidly tries to digest what you just heard.

Your heart clings to how easily Dave had been so present and affectionate since this morning. That sinking feeling of your suspicions being revealed. I knew this whole day was too good to be true.

Everything feels like it’s narrowing. The hallway. Your vision. Your airway. Smaller and smaller.

Something compels you to keep moving. Further from Dave. Closer to being alone at the bar, away from this man who you no longer find recognizable at this moment.

“Excuse me. Can I get a Scotch, neat, side of water please?” Dave’s whereabouts are no longer unknown to you, leaning an elbow onto the bar as he orders himself a drink, his other hand resting on the back of the chair that has kept you comfortable while you wait.

“Sorry, that took longer than expected.” Dave apologizes, sealing it with a kiss to your cheek.

You hum a lackluster response. Gnawing at your bottom lip as you focus on the dilapidated napkin you’ve been rolling and unraveling, folding and unfolding for the umpteenth time.

“You okay?” Dave asks, his hand moves to rest on your back but now it’s your turn to recoil from his touch, leaning forward before he’s able to make contact.

“Yeah— I’m great.” You say flatly, only briefly looking at him to deliver your annoyed smile, then back to the crinkled napkin that’s now serving as an absorbent to pooling condensation.

“Here you are sir.” The bartender interrupts, placing the single malt and ice water on the bar, Dave nods his thanks.

You don’t have it in you to pry or question his tardiness. So you continue to sit in silence, watching Dave out of your peripheral properly dilute his drink so it’s suitable for sipping.

“You’re not wearing your ring?” He points out to your bare ring finger then takes a light sip of the diluted scotch.

The fingers of your left hand pause, fanning out so you can inspect the observation yourself. The usually adorned finger is stripped, lacking your wedding band and engagement ring.

“Oh— I must have forgotten to put it back on after we went to the pool…” You hadn’t realized how naked it felt all day, the fingers of your right hand soothing over the indent skin, recalling when you had tossed the jewelry haphazardly into your bag yesterday.

“You don’t think these strangers will get the wrong idea?” You sense an attempt at humor in his voice, only he has failed to read the room. His government skills not sensing you have zero interest in Dave’s untimely decision to be a humorist. “A beautiful woman, alone at a bar, without her wedding rings— Don’t want—“

“Excuse me— can you put my drink on his tab? He’ll be taking care of it, along with your generous tip.” You alert the passing bartender. You swivel your barstool just enough to reach around Dave’s solid form to grab your purse, then swivel in the opposite direction to stand. You tuck your purse under your arm, before delivering the irritation that has finally begun to boil over. “I think the only stranger confused about our marriage is you, Dave.”

“Wait— Where are you going?” His hand gently clasped around your upper arm, halting your departure.

You glance down at where his hand holds you, his thumb actively moving in soft circles over your skin, trying his best to distract and diffuse the air between you. Unfortunately, too little too late.

“I’ve been sitting here waiting for you, Dave— for a fucking hour. I’m going back to the room.” You pull your arm from his grip and leave without another word.

Dave somehow manages to catch the same elevator, but you don’t bother acknowledging his presence as he stands on the opposite side of the small metal cabin. The other riding passengers don’t suspect you two even know each other or the emanant rift that is unfolding between you, just two lone hotel guests sharing a lift to their designated floor.

2 stops allow for the other guests to get on to their respective floors, leaving only you and Dave left to continue the ride to the final stop.

The striking silence is met with electric chords spilling from the small speakers in the elevator. The familiar tune feels like an old friend you’ve been reacquainted with after months apart. Those first few lines wrap around you, embracing you fully— I’ve missed you so. The chorus drawing your gaze to where your husband stands slouched against the mirrored wall, looking equally as somber as you feel, his eyes already drawn to you in the same manner.

A smile tugs at your lips, a fleeting moment of remembrance to that night so many years ago. That night where Dave was more than just a stranger in a bar. He was your future. Your home. Dave without a doubt was the best thing to happen to you.

The memory of meeting Dave is interrupted by a soft ding and the doors slowly unveiling your intended destination.

You stalk towards the room with a graceful backbone, a beautiful facade to how you truly feel inside, keeping yourself together with each poised stride. Dave takes his position two steps behind, vigilantly in tune with your body language.

There’s a sense of relief that overcomes you the second the door closes and the lock clicks. No longer needing to keep a composed demeanor to prying eyes. No longer allowing the hurt to fester and torment your heart in a stealthily manner.

They flow furiously once they start. Tears streaming down your face. Silent sobs cracking in your throat.

You move about busily, grabbing and tossing, too lost in your own blurry thoughts to even notice Dave standing there watching you.

“What are you doing?” Dave asks, perplexed by the way you’re flinging item after item into your suitcase that lays open on the bed.

“You’re a smart man, Dave. I’m sure you can figure that out.” Grabbing a drawer’s entire contents and dropping it messily into your bag.

“I get that you’re packing. Why are you packing is my concern.” He takes a timid step closer towards the streamline process of you moving about.

“I’m going home. I’ll catch a ride to the airport. Book a new flight when I get there. I can have Jacey pick me up when I land.” A plan you had thoroughly developed before Dave had arrived at the bar.

“Wait— you’re going home? Why? What’s going on?” He steps directly into your path, hindering your progress.

“I don’t know anymore, Dave. I thought this was what we needed. Some time away together. Away from work. Away from our normal lives. Just us reconnecting. But it seems like this whole thing was just wasted effort.” You try to wipe the tears, but they just continue to fall.

“Baby, you’re not making any sense right now.” He knows he should allow you space, but the urge to pull you into him is stronger.

“It’s been months. Months of you working long hours. Months of missed dinners and late nights at the office. Months of being alone at night wondering if you’re okay and when you’ll be home. Months of worrying that something is happening between us and trying to figure out how to fix it.” Each convulsive gasp for air you struggle for fans across Dave’s neck. His arms tightening around you, every word slicing through his chest.

“Fuck—“ He murmurs, his cheek pressed into the side of your head, your tearful confession not anything he expected to hear tonight.

“If you didn’t want to c-come with me— I would have u-understood.” Your shoulders jostle in Dave’s arms, your own arms hanging at your side, still holding a few loose garments in your fists.

“What? No! Baby, I wanted to come. I want to be here— with you.” Dave pulls back, enough so you can see the sureness in his eyes.

“What about her? Wouldn’t you rather be here with— h-her?” Your voice cracks at the thought of Dave with someone who isn’t you.

“Her? What are you talking about?”

“Ashley— She’s the important phone calls you’ve been taking. The work that can’t wait. She’s why you’ve been so distant with me for months.” It feels like glass the minute it leaves your mouth, shattering across your tongue, nearly choking on the tiny little shards.

“Honey, you think I’m having an affair?” A nod is all your weary state can give. An affair— it’s the only thing that makes sense to you right now.

“I heard you talking to her several times since we got here, Dave. The last time being when you told me you had to take an important call and you would meet me at the bar before our dinner reservation.”

You’re not sure what you expect him to do now that he’s been caught. Confess to his actions. Tell you everything from the beginning. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. It was a mistake, it will never happen again.

What you don’t expect is to see a single tear fall down his handsome face. To see a look of rich tenderness in his eyes. Warmth in his touch as he wipes away the wet worriment painted over your face.

“Baby— Fuck, I’m so sorry. To say that this trip so far has been stressful would be an understatement. Nothing I had planned for this trip has gone right— even after months and months of preparation. And you’re right, they weren’t work phone calls— not all of them at least. I’m so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t want to be here— I do. I want to tell you everything, but I think it’s best if I show you first.”

“Show me what?” You ask him.

“Come with me so you can see for yourself. And if you still want to go home afterwards, we’ll leave tonight.” Dave’s head tilts, his eyes searching yours hoping to relieve any reservations you still might be internally feeling.

“I look like a blubbering mess right now.” You use what you now realize are a pair of socks to wipe any streaks of makeup smeared on your face.

“No you don’t. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says, his lips molding over yours are a sobering reflection of his love for you.

Not much else is said on the trek back down to the lobby, allowing Dave to take you to wherever this mysterious place is.

There’s a nervousness about him, his jitters, while subtle, are loud and obvious. Holding his sweaty palm against yours. His other hand actively fidgeting in his pocket. Head tilt back, then forward, stretching his neck from side to side.

You lean into his shoulder, tucking your free hand under his arm, hoping to ground him a bit. It helps, you feel him relax instantly into your touch. His lips pressing to the side of your head, Thank you.

“Dave, where are we going?” You ask as you walk in an unfamiliar area of the hotel.

“Almost there.” He says, his fingers squeezing in small bursts against your hand.

It’s a long hallway covered in an elaborate wallpaper with rich details of floral patterns and bold hues. It's dimly lit due to the fact that there’s zero windows, the only light is given by the mid century style sconce fixtures lining the walls. Potted plants strategically placed around sculptures and empty velvet chairs.

You’re met with two large wooden doors as you approach the end of the hall, but it’s the woman standing in front of them that has your attention. She’s beautiful, actually she’s stunning. Her smile is so warm and inviting, beaming at you as you and Dave walk closer to where she stands. It’s as if she’s been expecting you, waiting diligently for your arrival.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. York. My name is Ashley.”

#Dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

307 notes · View notes

hihello-pinky · 10 months

Text

varsity crush

atsumu miya x afab reader

some fluff, i guess

i originally wanted to write a full fic based on pixie labrador’s song (hence, the title) but somehow i ended up with this drabble. ALSO i know it’s a sapphic song but damn, the first time i listened to it and heard the lyrics about volleyball, haikyuu was my first thought

miya atsumu who has been your classmate since sixth grade; who you always only thought of as osamu’s loudmouth brother who once lent you his jacket when it was cold and you forgot to bring yours.

atsumu who was your partner for cleaning duty at seventh grade; who would almost always miss the task because he made it a habit to rush to the gym after last period.

atsumu who made your heart skip a beat when he passed you a note asking you to the eighth grade dance; who raises an eyebrow at your questioning look and says the note is from osamu.

atsumu who was your seatmate during ninth grade; who would distract you during class with the sound of his pen scraping against his notebook as he sketched volleyball plays.

atsumu who surprises you when he enters the classroom on the first day of tenth grade with his blonde hair; who you couldn’t stop looking at because his lightened hair made him more handsome.

atsumu who, one night, dropped by your grandpa’s convenience store looking for an onigiri; who told you as he reached the counter that he had a fight with osamu and he wanted to give it as a peace offering.

atsumu, who somehow made it a habit to drop by the convenience store after practice to buy energy drinks; who always buy one of those candies displayed at the counter and conveniently “forgets” them, sending you a quick message to just keep it.

atsumu who approached you after class one thursday afternoon in eleventh grade; who shared he needed help in his studies in order to stay in the volleyball club and asked you to tutor him.

atsumu who began sharing a table with you at lunch under the pretense of having more time to discuss about lessons but always made it a point to just talk about random stuff; who in time recruited his brother and suna to your lunch table.

atsumu who lovingly accepts gifts from his fans at your lunch table; who smiles so sweetly at the girls as it makes you inwardly frown, confusing yourself.

atsumu who, at the first month of twelfth grade, excitedly tells you he made captain as he walked you home; who grinned at you as he showed you his jersey and jacket with his last name.

atsumu who became much busier due to volleyball but would always somehow find time in his calendar to stay with you either in a coffee shop or library as you studied for college entrance exams; who would force you to take a break as he snatches the pen from your hand (my old captain, kita, would scold you!)

atsumu who gets surprised once you tell him you’re going with them to the nationals; who teases you for volunteering to cover for the school newspaper; who is actually secretly happy that you’re coming.

atsumu who gives you his jacket before their first game “in case you get cold”; who makes the girls beside you at the bleachers squeal when he smiles at your direction once he sees you wearing his jacket and cheering for him.

atsumu who lets you see his tears for the first time as you comfort him when inarizaki places second; who listens to your gentle voice as you sincerely tell him that you believe there are lots of greater opportunities for him in the future once he goes pro.

atsumu who passes you a note before class with prom? written in his messy handwriting; atsumu who receives a note from you saying is this from osamu again?; atsumu who bites back a smile as he passes back the note, so the bastard told you?; atsumu who doesn’t notice his ears reddening until suna points it out but he doesn’t care at all as he reads your note: yes, and yes i’ll go to prom with you.

atsumu who surprises you at prom because as athletic as he is, he sucks at slow dancing; atsumu who makes you blush as he tightens his hand around your waist as soon as you two finally find the rhythm; atsumu who leans to you closely and whispers in your ear how beautiful you are; atsumu who plants a soft kiss at the top of your head after you tell him to shut up and accidentally step on his shoes.

atsumu who runs to hug you at graduation, wrapping his strong arms around your smaller figure and lifting you in the air; who attends your class’ afterparty with you where you end up playing truth or dare.

atsumu who chokes on his drink as your bottle ends up on him and you ask him on when he plans to ask you out; who, after composing himself, gives you a cheesy smile and asks you to be his girlfriend; who blushes so hard, making osamu and suna laugh, when you say yes and kiss him on the cheek.

miya atsumu who you never thought would capture your heart; atsumu who somehow also fell for you; atsumu who you would be cheering on for the rest of your life.

it doesn’t matter whether you’re wearing his jacket or not; he already gave you his last name, anyway.

609 notes · View notes

murderousink23 · 1 year

Text

06/16/2023 is International Day of the African Child 🧒🏿🇧🇼, National Take Back the Lunch Break Day 🍱🌏, National Fudge Day 🍫🇺🇲, International Day of Family Remittances 🇺🇳

#international day of the african child #national take back the lunch break day #national fudge day #international day of family remittances

0 notes

whiskeyghoul · 5 months

Text

Pt.4 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]

first chapter, previous chapter, next chapter

A/N: We are back again with another part! This one is a first, real, date with Spencer. I know the timeline of the museum doesn’t check out but let’s pretend it does. I think museum dates are the cutest and would love a Spencer who can info dump while walking around a museum. Also please enjoy this setup to some more conflict hehe. Please reblog when you do enjoy to help spread the fic, it is greatly appreciated.

WC: 2,8K

Tags: Fluff, goth reader, alt reader, pure fluff, first date, museum date, spencer reid, two idiots in love.

Warnings: None.

Your pov

“Do you want to go to a museum with me this weekend?” Spencer asked while he sat in the desk chair in your lab. You looked up from the stereo microscope, a little surprised by the question. Spencer had been taking his breaks there the entirety of the week, keeping you company as you worked or having lunch together. He’d brought you coffee about 3 out of the 4 times he had joined you. A very welcome gift during the long shifts you worked. You would have lunch together sometimes too. Eating, talking, getting to know each other a little better.

“What museum?” You asked with a smile, it would be a real date, outside of the confines of Quantico. “The national museum of natural history has opened a new hall about ocean life and conservation… I was hoping to go see it this weekend. If you want to come along.” He was looking hopeful, although a little nervous. Like he had been wanting to ask this for a while and had a certain fear of your answer. As if you could say no to him.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” You answered, watching as Spencer’s lips curved up into a smile. The focus on his lips jolted you back to the memory of a few days ago. When he had crowded you, looking like he was going to kiss you. Something in his expression changed to a certain level of possession. So close you couldn’t look away from him. The way his fingertips had brushed your skin so gently, it had been on your mind for the entire rest of the day. A little disappointed he hadn’t tried again. Then again there hadn’t been a similar moment. “Great, should I pick you up?” Spencer’s voice shook you out of your thoughts. He seemed excited now, you could see him biting the inside of his lip, keeping from fully grinning. “If you wouldn’t mind that. I could send you my address.” You spoke and he nodded his head in return, “I don’t mind at all.” He spoke a little softer than before. You smiled in turn and went back to your work.

It was Saturday morning when Spencer picked you up from your apartment. You had thought about changing your outfit about 6 times but finally decided it wasn’t worth it to change that many times. You had put on one of your better dresses, just a casual black with a nice flowy thigh length skirt with layers of black, ripped tights. Creating some flair with a multitude of accessories. Because it could be a long day you decided comfort was necessary. When you opened the door you saw his bright smile, watching as his eyes scanned down to take in the outfit. “Hey.” His voice was a little breathy. “Hey.” You returned with a smile. “My uh-” He swallowed looking a little nervous which was adorable to you. “My car is out front. Want to go?” He asked and you nodded your head.

His car, a cream volvo, was a little worn down but somehow you had expected that. Spencer seemed like the kind of person who would hold on to something until it falls apart. He walked around, opening the door for you and helping you in. There were two cups in the center console. The car smelled of coffee and a little like vanilla. “Thank you.” You said as you buckled yourself into your seat. Spencer smiled and closed the door, you watched him awkwardly walk around the car quickly to get into the driver's seat. “You ready?” He asked while turning the key, the engine coming to live with a little bit of a sputter. “Yep, ready. You brought coffee?” You spoke as Spencer looked around for him to pull out of the apartment complex parking lot. “Yeah, thought you might want some. It might be a long day.” He said before fixing his eyes on the road. “Thank you.” Your voice sounded soft as you looked at him, taking the coffee cup closest to you and taking a sip.

There was soft music playing over the car radio. Turned low enough for you to have a conversation but loud enough to fill any silences with comfortable sweet tones. It was mostly instrumental, which given Spencer’s history teacher-esque appearance was to be expected. His focus on the road gave you ample opportunity to let your eyes roam over his face. His profile was somewhat striking, he really was handsome. His hair curling at the back of his neck, not being able to stay slicked down by whatever products he used. You wondered what it would look like if he just let it curl naturally.

“What do you want to see most?” You asked and it caused Spencer to perk up slightly, he quickly looked over to you before returning his gaze to the road. “Well, there is a lot. I heard they have quite a large coral reef tank that is supposed to be modeled after an indo pacific reef ecosystem. I think that or the ocean systems exhibit. They have a massive 360 display with narration and it shows the complex aspects of the ocean and how it interacts with the atmosphere.” You thought you could possibly listen to him explaining everything in the museum if he wanted to. Hours on end to listen to his voice. “But there is also the first ever display of an adult coelacanth and a pup. They are considered living fossils by some, it will be so exciting to see the differences between adults and young ones.” He sounded so enthralled with the idea of everything he was going to see. His excitement only works to fan your own excitement. “I can’t wait to see them with you.” You said and Spencer once again turned to flash you his wonderful smile.

When you entered the museum you walked past the elephant in the entrance hall ready to head to the ocean hall. It was crowded, yet so incredibly beautiful. With the whale model hanging from the ceiling. Along with jellyfish that seemed a little whimsical. Through the middle ran a display with different sea creatures and their descriptions. Along the sides were similar displays. You felt a hand slide into yours, gently holding it and you looked up at Spencer. “Is this okay? I don’t want to lose you in the crowds.” He said as you watched the flush blossom on his cheeks. You interlaced your fingers with his, the size of his hand perfectly encapsulating yours, it was warm and so soft. “Perfectly fine.” You said and stood just a little closer to him. Together you traversed the displays, walking past different deep sea creatures, Spencer sometimes stopping to tell you something exciting he knew about the animal. You in turn try to surprise him with facts you knew, which he would smile at.

Once you saw the coelacanth and the giant squid you moved to the reef aquarium. Watching as fish would lazily swim by, or some of the corals moved with the current inside of the tank. You stood there, watching it together, so incredibly close that you rested your head on his shoulder. Feeling the warmth that radiated from him. Listening to him read out the information next to the tank was a wonderful experience. “Do you want to move on to the ocean system exhibit? It is supposed to restart every few minutes.” Spencer eventually asked. You tilted up your head to look at him. Catching him looking at you and your eye contact felt just a little electric. Those deep, soft, brown eyes. “Lead the way, pretty boy.” You smiled and saw something in his eyes change for just a second. His cheeks flushing once again.

Squeezing your hand a little tighter he pulled you along to the room containing the ocean system exhibit. The room was dimmed, there were seats lined up in a circle around the big globe that hung from the ceiling. It seemed to have already started as you came in, lights projected on it to show the earth and its oceans. Spencer pulled you along to one of the curved couches. There wasn’t a lot of space but he managed to find somewhere to sit. You squeezed in next to him, your thigh touching his, your hips close to him. His cologne was overwhelming like this, being so close in the dimly lit space felt intimate. Even with all the other people around. You felt his thumb rub over the back of your hand gently. A voice rang out over the speakers, starting to explain the ways of the ocean accompanied by music. You listened intently while watching the globe and the moving images projected onto it.

Spencer shifted besides you and you suddenly felt his breath fanning next to your face, his lips close to your ear. It made your cheeks flush, your heart rate picked up along with it. Waiting in anticipation for what he was going to say. “Did you know there is enough salt in the ocean to cover the entirety of the earth. It would be 500 feet thick if it would cover it in one layer.” He whispered the fact and it made you hold back a soft giggle. The moment had felt so intimate all for him to whisper one of his crazy knowledge facts. You turned your head to look him in the eyes, those brown puppy eyes looking at you with a hint of confusion. “Here I thought you were going to say something romantic.” You whispered, tone light and teasing. You watched Spencer flush, a hint of embarrassment as his eyes looked away from yours for a moment. “Sorry.” He apologized, you could see from his movement, the way his thumb stopped massaging the back of your hand, that he felt a sudden regret. “Don’t be. I still liked it anyway.” You whispered, the tip of your nose bumping against his. You felt him exhale in a short burst, like it had been a short gasp he tried to hide, or a certain surprise at the contact. A little rush of electricity ran through your body. A little voice in the back of your head urging you to kiss him.

“You did?” Spencer asked. You softly hummed your answer, tilting your head a little to angle your nose away from his. “Is this okay?” you asked and now it was his turn to hum a soft “mh-hm” which sounded so delicate, almost inaudible over the sound of the projection. Still, all your senses were attuned to him in that moment. You wanted to say something before closing the short distance between you but Spencer was one step ahead. He gently pressed his lips against yours, moving his free hand quickly to hold you in place. The size of his hand easily cupping your neck, keeping you close to him. The feeling made you melt into him, eyes fluttering closed as a soft sigh escaping through your nose. You finally got the kiss you have been craving for days. His lips still had the lingering taste of coffee, but with that sugary sweetness to it. It was a wonderful feeling that ended all too soon in your mind. When his lips left yours you tried to chase them. Not wanting to lose the feeling.

His chuckle made you open your eyes, realizing the lights had turned on and the once dimmed room had become substantially brighter. “That was nice.” Spencer voiced it softly but no longer in a hushed whisper. He had your lipstick on his lips which made your heart flutter ever so slightly. You raised your free hand, slowly wiping at the dark red stain to get it off. “Yeah, it was.” You said while touching his lips. His hand left your nape, taking your wrist gently and holding your hand still. He pressed a soft kiss to your thumb as he held eye contact. Breath hitching you didn’t know what to do. “Ehm… do you want to grab something to eat? At the cafe?” You stumbled over your words. “I would love a cinnamonroll.” Spencer said, a cheeky smirk playing on his lips. Yet you could tell there was a hint of giddiness there for him.

When he let go of your wrist it was like your body remembered how to move again. You stood up, glad the platforms under your shoes were solid, giving some stability to your slightly weakened knees. If you told your 17 year old self a guy who wore cardigans would have you weak in the knees you would have laughed. Spencer held out his hand which you gladly took. He led you to the café where you settled with a drink and something to eat before heading back into the museum. Wandering around past the different exhibits. Hand in hand.

When Spencer dropped you off back home later in the evening than expected you were absolutely giddy. He'd stopped on the way home to grab a bite to eat and you had been engrossed in conversation with each other. After that he asked you to put on the music you enjoyed, stating that ‘you've put up with his music, and I've quite liked what you played at the lab.’ which was a sweet sentiment. You were lucky to have memorized the only station that played the bands you loved. So the last half of the ride was spent with the cure, bauhaus, Depeche mode and many others as the background noise to your conversations. When Spencer parked in front of the apartment building you felt a little reluctant to leave. This had been the best date in years, well… the best and realest date you've had. “Thank you, for today, I loved it.” You spoke up as Spencer looked at you. He smiled that same smile again, the shy one, where he looked like he wanted to bite his lip to stop from saying something he normally wouldn't. “I enjoyed it too. I'm glad I asked you to come along.” His brown eyes lingered on yours. Keeping eye contact made the car feel incredibly small for a moment.

You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning, leaning over the center console and pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. This time it was your turn to initiate it. His hands quickly managed to find their way to your nape again. Sliding up and into your hair. You moved so your left knee was perched on your seat. Your right hand softly cupping his cheek, the light scratch of a day old shave beneath your fingers. Parting your lips slightly, an invitation for him to take it further. When his lips moved with yours, a delicate dance that made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You wanted to be closer, to push your body against his but the damn center console was in the way.

When you pulled away from Spencer you watched his tongue dart out to taste his lips with a small breath. Smiling slightly, you bit the inside of your cheek, “I’ll see you on Monday at work.” you said and gave him a peck on the lips. He nodded his head yes, letting go of you, “I will text you tomorrow.” He said. You smiled at that. Remembering how Penelope mentioned his distaste for texting. You reached for the car door. “Wait.” Spencer spoke up which surprised you. You looked back to be faced with his pleading eyes. “One more?” he asked, “Please?” he added with a small smile. You rolled your eyes gently, before leaning back and giving just another small kiss.

This time when you opened the passenger door he didn’t stop you. Once you stepped out you gave another little wave before closing the door. You rushed up the steps to the complex door and turned back to wave at Spencer as you walked in, watching as he pulled out of the parking lot. When you reached your apartment floor you were still on cloud nine. Dreamily walking down the hallway to your front door. When you did turn the corner and your eyes landed on your front door. A little bag sat on the floor beneath your door clink. A wave of unease washed over you. A nauseous feeling settling in your stomach. You knew exactly who it was from. How they got into the building, no clue, but this definitely was the work of the one person you confidently could say you hate. Your ex.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #alt reader #goth reader #she blinded me with science #tumblr writer #museum date fic #part 4

209 notes · View notes

alk4li · 2 years

Text

“BREAK UP SPECTACLE—

albedo, aether, scaramouche, kazuha, alhaitham, childe, cyno

xiao breaks up with reader, how do the other genshin characters react and what do they do?

a/n: i got this idea from a tiktok pause game and i JUMPED to my laptop cause the angst potential?? ( i think i have an anemo boy issue )

a/n2: came back to edit a little things and add in dialogue. i think my writing had matured a little and this was a hard read

xiao ! un-lover boy

"sorry y/n," and with that he left, the vanishing traces of this adeptal energy were all that was left in the seemingly cold and indifferent room. a room you spent msny nights in, huddled up against your lover in the coolest of weathers and warmest of days. many treasured memories all reduced to nothing but what they always were, the past.

as you slowly slumped against the door frame, eyes burning into the place xiao was standing at, a heavy feeling weighs you down and your eyes began to sting.

who comforts you?

albedo

with a tired expression, you sat down next to albedo's chair in his dragonspine camp. melancholic eyes drifted to his nimble hands making quick work of his documents before turning back to you.

"hello, y/n. i see you have visited me, what brings you back so unexpectedly?" albedo asked as he sat down across from you.

you smile, explaining the recent events and your feelings to seek comfort in your friend.

albedo listens attentively, expressions staying mostly stoic as he nods along. after your mini rant, he sighs. "so that's why you look half alive, huh. i see. well, im glad you find solace in me," the faintest of quirk in his lips tug upwards as he grabs a plushie from his table. "perhaps i am unable to attend to your needs as much as you'd like, but i am willing to take a day off to walk around monstadt with you and klee." he lifts up the white rabbit-like plush he had received from klee.

"what do you say, y/n?" as he sets the plush on your lap, "you care to join us?"

aether

soon after catching wind from klee about a very sad looking y/n who abruptly visits monstadt after a big mean monster hurt miss y/n, aether puts two and two together and makes plans to have lunch with you. after his long tiring day of commissions, he finally meets up with you in windtrace.

"y/n! there you are!" paimon waved as the pair approached. they sat down next to you, laying out delicious foods.

although the exchange goes per normal, just a casual lunch date between best friends, you can't help but feel like crying as you see paimon choose to let you eat all the good food before her and aether sharing his many encounters around teyvat to lift your mood.

"I hope you recognise that there are many people here that care about you. you're never alone," a soft grin spreads across his face. nudging you in the waist

scaramouche

although no one told him, he could sense your broken heart from miles away. "what? why do you look so pitiful. what happened to you always wanting to lunge at my throat?" he provokes.

you simply shook your head, looking back down at your feet. "not feeling like it," you utter.

it felt so out of character for you, scaramouche momentarily hesitates, "don't tell me such a minor thing can upset you?" he had roughly deduced what happened between you and your ex-lover but opted against bringing it up.

he sat down next to you on the luscious grass. silently watching the sunset with you, he turns back to your figure, brows cinching at the look of your frowning expression.

"don't be so sulky, you're going to grow wrinkles,” he reaches out and smacks your forehead, before turning back around.

who is secretly glad you broke up?

kazuha

beidou offered you a ride on the crux after hearing about your yearn to depart from liyue immediately. as such, in the midst of the dark sky you boarded the crux, leaving the nation without bidding farewell to your ex-lover.

as you settled down in your quarters, you heard a quiet knock at your door. you opened the door, seeing a worried kazuha leaning against the door frame. "ah, y/n. i hope i'm not intruding? i just thought you might want some company."

“come in,” you sighed, inviting him in. you both quietly sat down on your bed. exasperation creeps up your spine, feeling the weight of the past events collapsing on your shoulders. you finally let out a shaky breath, followed by a warm tear falling from your eyes. quickly, you wiped it away with your sleeve.

wordlessly, kazuha could only stare at your glistening face.

two gentle hands grasp each of your own, clasping them together and pulling you towards him. kazuha's hands wrap around your head, pulling you into his embrace.

"y/n, please stop crying over that childish brute. i know this is very sudden but allow me a chance to be someone you can trust, please.”

alhaitham

as you arrive in sumeru, your first destination is to look for the scribe of sumeru; your childhood friend.

"huh, y/n...? it's been quite sometime," the tall male stood baffled at your presence. you grin as alhaitham slowly registers your figure.

"are you free?" you asked.

not long after, the two of you headed to a nearby cafe for drinks. you caught him up to date and the tragic news that led to your return to sumeru. alhaitham sat quietly, absorbing in the information.

after hearing your story, alhaitham's face turns to stare at your eyes, a look of longing and pity painted his face, but you were too distracted by the approaching waiter to notice.

as the waiter finished taking down your orders, he abruptly halted in his footsteps, "sorry to interrupt but are you by any chance single?" however, before you could muster up a reply, alhaitham spoke.

"no, she is courting me. i would appreciate if you got back to your job.”

who would exact revenge

tartaglia

during his ventures about teyvat, he had heard about what happened from aether. tartaglia was not one to get too into other peoples business, but something sparked within him.

he deploys more fatui's near the inn, often causing unnecessary trouble around the perimeter and blocking the import of tofu and almond in spite.

"hope you choke on many almonds tonight."

bonus :

cyno ! god of laughs

hes telling you many lame jokes.

of course you're playing tcg! he would purposely use xiao's card and let you beat him with a very special general mahamatra card!

"yes, very good,"

3K notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 7 months

Text

cold nights // part twenty-six

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 7.3k (WOAH)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: sorry i made you guys wait so long for this omg!! i have been booked and busy this week but we are so back :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

It's your first day of university, and you don't know if you're more excited or terrified.

It was the beginning of the rest of your life, which is thrilling considering just two months ago you thought you had days left to live. At the same time, though, you knew no one here besides Coryo and Sej, and you didn't share a single class with either of them.

But, staying positive was a must. It would only be a few hours away from them, and you had planned to meet up for lunch with Coryo between your classes, since he had found some for you that started and ended at the same time as his. While you drape your scarf over your shoulders and tuck both ends around the belt at your waist, you smile to yourself. You take a last look in the mirror, to double-confirm that you like the look of the scarf worn that way over your white dress and when you're satisfied you grab your bag and leave your room. Of course, Tybalt is right on your heels.

Walking down the hall, you can hear their grandmother singing the national anthem in the other room, as she always does. You've never loved the anthem or what it stood for, but starting your morning hearing singing is nice nonetheless. Even if the woman who started her mornings with song had decided just to completely pretend you didn't exist, ignoring you at every turn. "Good morning!" You smile as you enter the dining room, Tigris and Coryo already sitting to eat.

"Morning." They both smile at you at the same time as you drop your bag down, sitting next to Coryo. "Are you excited?" Tigris asks as you reach for some apple slices. There are more fancy pastries spread out on the tray as well, but you'd much rather stick to fruit in the morning.

"I am." You grin, biting the slice in half. "A little nervous, though. I must admit."

"You don't need to be nervous." Coryo tells you, and his smile does relax you. But you know he doesn't understand. "I'll walk you to your classes, and I'll see you during our break. It'll be easy and you'll adjust very quickly."

"Aren't you nervous?" You ask, picking up your cup of tea and taking a sip. "It's your first day too."

"Not really." He shrugs, reaching up to mess with his hair. It had only been a few weeks since he cut it, but it was growing back rather quickly. "More excited."

"Oh, well, I'm excited for you too." You hum, taking another bite of your apple and smiling as he pats your leg under the table.

Pulling up to the campus after Coryo insisted that their driver take the two of you, you notice immediately that there were tons more people. Most were people around your age, which you expected. You wonder how many of them are Coryo's other friends, it would be nice to make more friends here. Just like the games. You find yourself thinking. "Safety in numbers", is what Coryo had told you. You needed allies here.

"There's a lot of people." You comment as the car comes to a stop, and Coryo gently squeezes you with the arm he has over your shoulder in the backseat, still shielded by the tinted windows.

"Yes, just stay close to me." He tells you, kissing your cheek. You nod and push the door open, thanking the driver quickly as you climb out with Coryo on your heels.

It's obvious to him almost immediately that you don't fit in. While there isn't a uniform like there was in the academy, he was still wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt- which seemed to be on par with the level of dress all the other students were donning. Mentally, he curses himself for not thinking of that. It didn't even cross his mind- all that did was that you looked beautiful. More done up than he'd ever seen you, and you don't look insecure about it, at least not immediately. Outside of what he can discern of just average nervousness as you seem to shrink in on yourself while you look out over as much of the campus as you can see.

"So, your class starts in twenty-five minutes. Usually, it's a good idea to get there early, that's what I've heard anyway." He tells you as he starts walking down the path toward the doors, and you follow quickly after him.

"How long does it take to get there?" You ask as you catch up, holding onto your bag over your shoulder.

"You tell me." He smirks, jutting out his elbow to gently nudge you. "I have you the tour, where are we going?"

"Oh." You laugh, looking around. "It looks a lot different now. Probably... ten minutes to get to the arts building?"

"About that, yeah." He nods. "In no time you won't need me anymore."

As you approach the entrance to the main building, it doesn't go unnoticed by him that you're being stared at. No doubt every other student here recognizes you, it would be jarring to see a tribute walking among them at school. Let alone be in a class with them. He wonders if they'd feel unsafe with you- he knows he would have without knowing you.

Not necessarily unsafe, considering even watching the games anyone could tell you wouldn't hurt a fly, but... uneasy, is a more accurate descriptor. It even begins to pool in his own stomach, growing more as you link your arm with his. They weren't just staring at you. They were staring at him, too.

"I'll always need you, I'm sure." You giggle, squeezing his arm.

He can practically hear all of their whispers now.

'Is that Coriolanus Snow? That District girl is all over him.'

'She's probably going to give him rabies or some other gross District plague. I won't be surprised if he starts a Monkey Pox outbreak.'

'I heard him and Sejanus Plinth went to District Twelve just for her. They probably came back half animal- no wonder he sees nothing wrong with this.'

Suddenly, he does. Your hold on him, while friendly, feels so sickeningly isolating. He pulls his arm from yours with the excuse of rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he speaks to you. "Well, we may not always have aligning classes."

"That's true, I suppose." You agree. "An awful shame though, I'll miss being able to have lunch together."

He just hums in agreement, picking up his pace as you move through the halls and out the back exit to be able to access the art building.

"This is you." Coryo says as he stops outside the door to a lecture hall, looking inside briefly before turning his attention to you. There were a few students already inside, reading or organizing their notebooks.

"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. He didn't have much to say on the walk to your class, but you sum that up to him being in a hurry to get to his own. The art building was certainly out of his way, if you remember where all his classes were supposed to be.

"You're welcome." He says, making an effort to match your smile. He could only really focus on the stares you were getting from people walking past, making wide circles around you. You don't seem to notice as you look up at him. "I'll come back to get you after class, so just wait for me, okay?"

"I'll wait right here." You nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head against his chest. "I'll miss you, though."

You feel him tense up under you, and he awkwardly pats your back. You don't clue in until you hear gasps and whispering. You quickly take a step back, cheeks red.

Coryo chuckles nervously. "It's alright, uh..." He leans down to whisper to you. "They're just strict about that kind of stuff here. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." You reply, looking around and smiling apologetically at the few people still staring as they walk past.

"I should have told you, that's my fault." He admits, standing up straight before leaning down to talk to you again. "Good luck in your class. I love you, and I'll see you for lunch." He whispers and is satisfied when that brings your normal smile back.

"I love you too." You whisper back, and he grins, giving you a quick nod. "See you later."

You wave as he walks away, and you take a deep breath before walking into the lecture hall.

Now, you're presented with your second big problem of the day. Figuring out where to sit.

You scan the room quickly, deciding the easiest would be the front or second row. There were a few students already sitting down there, and one girl who was sitting alone. She had blonde hair, and red lipstick that you think would match Coryo's coat that he sometimes wears quite nicely. She looked nice.

You smile as you make your way over to the front row, sliding into the seat next to her. "Hi! My name is Y/N, what's-" You whisper, wanting to stay quiet in the already silent room and before you even finish your question she's shoving things in her bag and getting up. "Oh." You frown, looking around as she quickly moves to a different seat. The shuffle caused everyone who wasn't already looking to stare at you, so you just quickly turned to face the front.

You didn't mean to scare her off, you just thought she might want a friend if she was sitting alone, and you definitely wanted one. She didn't even look at you for more than a second.

You quietly pull the notebook Coryo had given you out of your bag, placing it on the table in front of you and looking up at the clock. There were still fifteen or so minutes until your class would start, so surely by then, someone would sit next to you.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time the man you assumed was your professor entered, every other seat was taken besides the ones next to you. And behind you. There was this glaringly uncomfortable circle of emptiness surrounding you right at the front of the room. It was mildly embarrassing, but at least you didn't have to see everyone staring at you since almost everyone was behind you. But you still had the afternoon class, and the rest of the year to let people warm up to you. It would be okay.

"Okay, I hope everyone is here." Your gaze follows your professor as he shuts and locks the door. "If you're late, that's too bad. I expect everyone to be on time. This door will be locked at nine on the dot. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Dr. Nero."

You sit up straighter in your seat. He looks young, probably only ten or so years your senior with well-trimmed but present facial hair and a semi-casual suit. He must be relatively new to the position, and clearly, he took it very seriously.

"Alright, the department wants us to do icebreakers, so we'll get it over quickly. When I call your name on the attendance, tell us something about yourself and what your career goal is."

Shoot. You definitely didn't have any solid plans yet.

As he goes through the list, you wrack your brain for an answer. What did you want to do? Nothing specific. Maybe you'd write a book, maybe open a daycare back home where parents could leave their young ones with you by donation while they went to work. Maybe you'd be back at the library, but you really wanted to do something good with your education. You make a mental note to ask Coryo during lunch what kind of career you can have with a literature degree.

You look around, trying to remember as many names as you can as the other students answer.

"Teacher", "Artist", "Museum Curator", "Gamemaker".

Your eyes are still locked on the student who said that, a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. His name was Cancor Crane, if you remember what the professor had just called out correctly, and he was staring back at you. He was staring at you with such a vile expression that it looked like he wanted to gut you. A chill goes down your spine.

Then your name is called. You turn quickly, smiling nervously. "Hi..." You say, clearing your throat of the dryness that overtook it. "So, my name is Y/N... something about myself is that I have a cat, his name is Tybalt. Um, because my favourite book is Romeo and Juliet." You look around, then quickly back to your desk. "And I am not sure about my career, in all honesty. Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door." You shrug, smiling hopefully at him.

"Interesting." Your professor says, tilting his head at you and leaning back against his desk. "I expected your fact to be that you're a Victor."

"I- well, yes. I am." You reply nervously, twisting your pencil in between your fingers.

He hums. "Congratulations."

Congratulations on being the only one to walk away with your life.

"Thank you." You settle on, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I've never taught a Victor before. This should be an interesting class for all of us."

You took as many notes as you could through the syllabus overview and first lecture. You were pretty pleased with yourself, everything looked organized and you felt prepared for the rest of the course- besides the textbooks that you needed to pick up. Another thing to ask Coryo about.

You don't see him at the door yet, after all, he had to walk all the way back from his class to yours and if he was let out at the same time he should be here in about ten minutes.

"Miss Y/L/N, do you mind staying for a moment?" Dr. Nero asks as the lecture hall steadily clears out. "I'd like to chat with you."

You quickly gather your things, making your way over to his desk at the front centre of the large room.

"Dr. Nero." You smile, bag tucked under your arm. "I really enjoyed today's class. I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester."

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything else, and you're left wondering what he wanted you to stay for. "I just need to get my textbooks, but I have the list that you gave us so I'll see if I can grab them this afternoon. I'll have them for Wednesday." You say, just wanting to fill the silence.

"Good." He nods, leaning back against his desk and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I watched your games. When they told me that you enrolled in my class, I was immediately intrigued."

"Oh." What are you supposed to say to that? He watched you at your literal worst, that doesn't make you feel very comfortable at all.

"In a good way, I assure you." He says, sensing your nerves. "I feel as though you know more about English literature than anyone in this city. Maybe even more than me."

"I wouldn't say that..." You chuckle nervously. "I just like reading."

"Yes. With an unprecedented level of comprehension for a District-born child."

You want to scowl and argue with him about how the opinions of the Capitol citizens are based on nothing but their own superiority complex fuelled by their win in one war that cost the lives of many, but instead, you just smile and nod. "Thank you, Sir."

"Although, tributes are not given much of a chance to prove that they are more than animals when they are treated as such from the moment they arrive until the moment they die, wouldn't you agree?"

You tilt your head at him. His motivations and opinions are suddenly unclear and confusing to you. "Yes... I-I would."

"Well, I hope to learn more about your experience while we get to know each other." He tells you. "Thank you for coming."

"Yes, thank you." You say quietly, looking toward the door. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Yes, good luck in the rest of your classes." He nods to you, and you take that as your dismissal and head to the door. You would just have to wait for Coryo in the hall.

You wouldn't have to wait long, considering he was already there, right where he had left you earlier.

"Hi!" You smile, waving at him but being mindful of keeping your distance.

"Hello." He grins, already starting down the hall as you join his side.

"How was your class?" You ask excitedly.

"Good." He shrugs. "What about yours? That's what I'm more concerned about."

"It was good!" You smile. "I mean, I tried to talk to people but everyone was pretty quiet. And the Professor was nice. I think. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I'm a 'Victor'." You accentuate your point with finger quotations, bouncing between looking up at him beside you and ahead of you to make sure you don't walk into anyone. They seem to be keeping their distance, though.

"Of course he is." Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "But that's what we want. He may favour you, so go along with it."

"Oh, okay."

Tigris was nice enough to pack you both lunch for the day, yours consisting mainly of fruit. Something you have noticed over the last couple of weeks you've been here is that some of the food scares you- which is something you never thought of. If you can't somewhat accurately identify what it is just by looking at it, you're tempted to steer clear. Coryo insists you'll "get used to it", something he tells you daily about a wide variety of things, but Tigris doesn't mind packing you fruit for lunch or meals you don't help prepare yourself, which you appreciate.

Even for a September day, the sun is beaming down on the courtyard so you decided to eat outside. After all, Coryo says the weather won't be this nice all winter. You rarely got snow in Twelve, so you were excited for the holidays. Secretly, you hoped you could go home for Christmas.

"It's a beautiful day today." You comment, taking a bite of the fresh strawberry you pulled from your lunch container. The strawberries here were something that shocked you as well- they were bigger than the homegrown ones back home. Not nearly as sweet, though.

"It is." Coryo nods, leaning back on his palms in the grass. "Do you like it here so far?" He asks, squinting from the sun as he looks over at you.

"I mean, I've only had one class as you know, but so far it's great." You grin. "I'm excited to actually dive into the readings and such."

"I mean, like, in general." He chuckles. "Also, I have never heard anyone ever say they were excited about homework."

"A precious, mouldering pleasure it is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think." You shrug, smiling at him as you place the rest of the strawberry on your tongue.

Coryo scrunches up his nose in disgust while you chew. "You eat the leaves?"

Quickly, you're covering your mouth with your hand to speak. "You don't?" You ask, voice slightly muffled with the slightly sour fruit on your tongue.

"No!" He laughs, shaking his head.

You swallow what remains of the strawberry in your mouth, preparing to defend yourself when you hear someone call his name. You both turn, and your eyes land on a girl with long, dark hair as she walks toward you. With the shoes she's wearing, she only slightly struggles on the grass.

"Clemmie." He smiles, quickly standing up. You follow suit, brushing the stray blades of grass off of your legs and dress while he gives her a hug. A hug? That must be allowed outdoors. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Yeah, well, they let me out of my cage for the occasion." She replies sarcastically. She must be hot, wearing a white turtle neck in this heat. Then she looks at you, lifting up her dark sunglasses and resting them in her hair.

She has the eyes of a snake.

You're in shock for a moment, but you quickly recover. "Hello, my name is Y/N. Are you a friend of Coryo's?" You ask, extending your hand to shake. You were just happy to possibly be making friends.

She doesn't take it, something you're used to by now. "Yes, we've known each other our whole lives." She answers, looking down at your hand as you slowly lower it back to your side.

"Y/N, this is Clemensia Dovecote." Coryo says, deciding to introduce you properly, since his classmate didn't want to oblige. "She was a mentor as well."

"Oh, congratulations." You grin, biting back the sickness you felt suddenly bubbling in your stomach. "From what I have heard, even being selected for the opportunity is a large accomplishment. You must be proud."

"Yeah, well, I'd certainly be happier if my tribute won." She shrugs.

"Clemmie-" Coryo hisses at her, and she looks momentarily horrified at her own statement.

You look down, nodding slightly with a nervous smile. "It's okay." You insist, laughing slightly and pretending to readjust your scarf and tighten it around the belt.

"I didn't... Not like that. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly after Coryo had jumped to your defense.

"No, it's alright. I understand." You tell her again, attempting a reassuring smile. "Would... would you like to eat lunch with us?"

"I have to get going, actually." Clemensia replies, looking between the two of you. "I was just on my way to my next class and thought I'd stop to say hi. It was nice to meet you, Y/N."

"You too." You grin, and she nods at you before walking away.

Your eyes stay trained on her as she crosses the courtyard, and Coryo is once again close enough to speak to you quietly so no one else would hear. "I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it like that."

"No, I know." You insist again, already sitting back down. "It's okay." You smile up at him, patting the patch of grass next to you so he would join you.

"She was supposed to be Reaper's mentor." He tells you as he rejoins you on the ground. "But... something happened before the games. She couldn't participate."

"Oh."

He moves closer. "Do you remember that day we went to tour the arena?" He asks and you nod. "And I was late, and you asked me what was wrong, and I told you nothing?"

You do remember that, and you never got answers, but you remember being worried it was your fault. You almost kissed him the night before, and you had made things weird when he just came to do something nice for you; bringing you a book and some birthday cake. You felt horrible. "Yes, I thought I had done something."

"You? No." He quickly shakes his head. "We had to write a proposal for Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, about things that could be done to "improve" the games. Like the bets, donations, sending food, and when we were speaking with her Clemmie got bit by one of the snakes."

You gasp, covering your mouth. He looks around, making sure no one is paying attention. Yes, people were staring, but no one would get close enough to be able to overhear.

"I thought she was dead, but they sent me straight to the arena to meet you." He explains. "And like she said, we've been friends forever so I was... quite upset."

"That's horrible." You frown, resisting the urge to reach for his hand as it sits on his lap next to you.

"Yeah." He agrees quietly. "But I saw her in the hospital after the bombing, she was alive but... different. Crazy."

"Her eyes?" You ask and he nods.

"And she was hallucinating, they wouldn't let anyone see her except me because I was there. She was angry with me because I didn't visit her enough."

"Survivors guilt." You smile sympathetically. It was a feeling you knew all too well.

"That's why she's wearing that shirt." He whispers, nodding to her just as she enters the building ahead of you. "She's got scales."

You cringe at the mere idea of it.

"I know." He laughs slightly. He doesn't look away from his hands in his lap, and while you can see he's smiling and laughing, it's doing little to convince you that he isn't upset. "It was kind of my fault, though."

There it is.

"No, most certainly not." You frown. You just want to hold his hand, surely you won't be caught if you do. You were outside, just for a moment isn't likely to get you in trouble. Especially if he was just hugging Clemensia. "Why do you say that?" You ask, settling instead for resting a hand on his arm.

"I... It's difficult to explain." He tells you, and you say nothing, willing him to continue. "So, our proposal was in the tank. Dr. Gaul told us if the snakes knew your scent, they wouldn't bite. But I wrote the paper, not her, and she made Clemmie reach into their tank and pull it out."

"That's not your fault." You tell him, gently squeezing his forearm.

"I should have stopped her. She would have hated me for telling them she didn't help write it, but none of that would have happened."

"Well, she's okay, isn't she?" You smile hopefully.

"Yes, but she just as easily could have died." He insists. "The only thing that makes me feel slightly better about it is that in a way, she saved you."

You cock your head at him, mouth falling open in astonishment. "I... what?"

He looks up from his lap to check your surroundings again.

"I put the letter you wrote to me into the tank." He whispers, and you have to lean in to hear it. "Because I knew if they knew your scent they wouldn't hurt you."

"You... never told me that." You state the obvious, retreating your hand back into your own lap. Part of you wishes he hadn't done that. They didn't quite catch you getting up into the rafters, his warning had been enough, but you should have walked to your death the following morning when you climbed down and found the note in the first place.

"I just... I don't know, I thought it would be worth more if it stayed a secret. I didn't want you to feel... indebted to me, or something." He admits. "But I'm still trying that thing where I tell you everything I'm thinking. Especially about this stuff."

You nod, putting your focus on picking pieces of grass at your side. "Thank you."

"Please don't thank me." He frowns. "I told you. I had to. I knew I loved you even then, Y/N/N."

You give your head a quick shake, already sensing the spiral it was about to fall down. "Let's not speak about this here." You mumble. "Please."

Immediately, Coryo understands. "Of course." He watches you run your fingers through the grass slowly, and realizes quickly that you are counting them. Now was not the time or place for another attack, and he felt foolish for even bringing the topic of the games up. "What books do you need?" He asks, hoping to get you in better spirits. "Anything that looks good? You said you were excited for the readings."

Your lunch doesn't feel like it lasts long enough, even though you had an hour and a half between your classes. Once you got to talking about your books, the time seemed to fly by and Coryo agreed to take you to the bookstore on campus the following afternoon so you could get all your books at once. He had a few to get as well.

He walked you to your next class, a few floors up in the same building and this time you were mindful to not hug him goodbye. He told you he loved you, very quietly, and you said you loved him too before entering the room. Another lecture hall, slightly smaller than the last one.

You mentally prepare yourself to play this game again. Where to sit, and preferably, finding someone willing to sit next to you. Looking around, you see a couple of girls in the middle of the room chatting away. They looked nice enough.

Preparing your smile as you walk up, you slide into the seat next to them. "Hi there, my name is Y/N." You grin, keeping your voice low. You really didn't want to scare them off. "Can I sit here?"

They look at each other with an expression unreadable to you, before one of them nods. "Yeah, we can't see why not."

"Oh, thank you!" You say excitedly, pulling your bag up onto the desk to grab your other notebook out of it.

"You're the Victor." The other girl comments, and you realize they're both staring at you still.

You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, nodding. "Mhm."

"So... why are you here?" The girl closest to you with a brunette ponytail asks.

"Oh, well, Coriolanus, he was my mentor, he came to visit me back home and convinced me to come study here." You explain. "I want to have a career. Help my family."

"Oh, we know him." She says, and they look at each other again, chests shaking with laughter they're attempting to conceal.

"You do?" You smile. You knew starting with his friends was a good idea, this is just a happy coincidence that you had decided to sit next to two of them already.

"Yeah, we went to the academy with him." The girl's friend explains. You notice then that they have a very similar hair colour, but hers is cut short and curled just above her shoulders. "He always had such a stick up his ass. Took everything way too seriously."

"That's what my brother said, too." You giggle. You weren't sure if they were being genuinely mean or not, but you decided to air on the side of caution. You wanted friends. "But he is truly lovely. Do you know him well?"

"You could say that." One of them answers vaguely and you just smile, tucking your bag back under the table. "Your bag is... interesting. Where did you get it?"

"Oh!" You say excitedly, lifting it back onto the table. "My Ma made it for me. Isn't it pretty?"

They laugh, and your smile fades. You thought it was very nice, made from pieces of scrapped linens that she had used in other projects, stitched together into a pattern that made up your shoulder bag. It was perfect for carrying your notebooks and pencils, you had brought it to school back home all your life.

"It's... something else." The girl with the short hair nods.

"Does your Ma hate you? That's so sad." The other girl pouts, resting her chin on her hand.

You quickly hide the bag away again at your feet. "No, of course she doesn't." You weren't sure what to say. Why were they being mean? They had been nice to you a moment ago.

"Did she make your dress, too?"

You just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

"Wow, yeah, I could tell." You look down at the words, unsure as to what she could see that could be wrong with it. This was one of your favourites.

Admittedly, it was a little short on you, similar in style and colour to the one you had worn to the Capitol the first time you came. But now, looking at what she was wearing and her friend, both with button-up shirts similar to Coryo's and different coloured blazers with a matching skirt, you realize that your attire is very different. Different vastly from everyone in the room as well, as more students are trickling in.

You didn't think it mattered until now.

You don't get the chance to come up with anything in defense of your dress before she reaches out and grabs at the material of your scarf, rubbing it between her fingers. "This is the scarf you had with you in the games. It doesn't look like your mother made it, though. This is mulberry silk."

You jump a little at the unexpected contact, and they laugh. "Uhm, no, she didn't." You clear your throat. "It's a family heirloom. I'm not sure where it came from." Not entirely a lie, it just wasn't your family heirloom.

"Neat. So, where are you staying?" She asks after a moment.

"With Coriolanus and his family. They've been very kind to me." You smile. Their eyes go wide and they look at each other again.

"You mean, on the Corso?"

"Yes, that's what he told me it's called."

"Wow, you really made yourself comfortable here, huh?"

"Well," You laugh slightly. "It's been an interesting transition, but he's made it much easier. He helps as much as he can."

Simultaneously they pick up on the pink flush of your cheeks as you remember the amount of times he's come running when you had a nightmare, only to bring you water and back to his bed to sleep after. Weirdly enough, he made you feel safer now.

"Oh my god." The girl with the bob laughs. "You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He's my friend." You smile, a little confused. That only makes them laugh more, and you pick up on what they were implying. Quickly, you turn even more pink in the face. "Well, I mean, um..."

"Y/N." You turn your head at the mention of your name, looking up at the girl now standing in front of you. She was smiling, and immediately seemed to have a kinder spirit than the girls you were already sitting with. "Come sit with me, Coryo asked me to save you a seat."

"Oh, okay." You nod, grabbing your things again and standing. You were eager now to get away from those other girls.

"Lysistrata, come on. We were just talking to our new friend." The girl with the ponytail pouts, and you look back at Coryo's friend. She just stares at them, something akin to a warning in her expression.

"Where do you want to sit?" You ask her, still recovering from their mildly embarrassing comment as you stand up.

She just nods toward one of the upper rows and starts walking. "It was nice to meet you." You smile at the girls nervously before following behind her.

"Oh, and Twelve?" You stop and turn when the girl with the ponytail speaks up again. "Good luck with Coriolanus, though I hate to tell you I have a head start. We're actually engaged. But like I said, good luck!"

You feel your face pale and you just nod, quickly turning away and focusing your gaze on the long dark braids belonging to the girl leading you up the stairs.

Your mind is absolutely reeling as you follow her to some seats near the back. You didn't know he was engaged. Honestly, you thought you were kind of his girlfriend. He told you he loved you not ten minutes ago, for god's sake! But maybe it had meant something different to him all along. Was this something they did in the Capitol? Because back home if you kissed someone that meant they were your one and only, but maybe that was very different here. So many things are very different here.

"They aren't engaged. Don't listen to her." Coryo's friend, Lysistrata you think her name was, says as you sit down.

You look over at her. "They aren't?"

"No." She scoffs. "Livia just thinks they're getting married because her daddy wants them to. They hardly ever even talk."

"Oh." You reply quietly, looking down the rows at the girls you were just with. That does ease your panic. "Not... not that it matters to me."

"It's okay." She smiles kindly at you. "To be honest, he hates her." She whispers. "I think you've got a much better chance. He speaks very highly of you."

You blush, smiling back at her. "I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Y/N."

"Nice to meet you." She smiles, and for the first time today, it feels genuine. "I'm Lyssie."

"Did you go to the academy too?" You ask for the sake of making conversation. She seems lovely, and you're excited at the idea of actually having a friend in one of your classes.

"I did." She smiles. "I was Jessup's mentor. Coryo and I worked a lot together during the games."

You chew on your lip, nodding slightly.

Today was just full of draining conversations.

"I'm sorry." She adds quietly. "You all deserved better."

"I'm sorry I didn't stay with him." You whisper. "I regret it every day."

"Don't. You did what you had to do, no one holds anything against you. I think you did the right thing."

You just nod, opening your notebook. You have to hope that once you get all these impossible conversations out of the way and people know you better, you'll have other things to talk about. And maybe one day, the topic won't make you want to cry, throw up, and jump off the nearest building all at once.

"He was one of the best of us. He should have won." You say quietly.

"Don't say that." She smiles sadly at you. "I'm glad it was you if it couldn't be him, and he was very sick. He wouldn't have made it much longer anyway."

"I had to go home and see his family." You felt comfortable talking to her, like she wouldn't judge you. It was a relaxing feeling. "My heart breaks for them, they're good people. And they needed him."

"You know his family?" She asks.

"Not really. We've crossed paths here and there, my Ma helps them on occasion with fixing their clothes." You shrug. "Still, though. From what I know, they try to stay in life. Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends."

"Would you happen to know their address? I would love to write to them. To apologize, that is." She explains and you smile, nodding before scribbling it down in your notebook and ripping out the page to hand to her.

"Thank you."

Another two hours, another "icebreaker", and more stares. You hoped that your classmates would eventually get tired of staring at you, you imagined it would make it quite difficult to take notes or pay attention to the lecture.

You felt almost guilty about it. Coryo didn't tell you that everyone would be so shocked but you shouldn't be surprised. Looking down at your clothes and the scarf that had almost entirely been cleaned of the blood stains it carried back to Twelve, you thought maybe it could have something to do with how you dress. Obviously, it would be distracting if you stood out so much, so maybe fitting in would be better. As much as you love your handmade clothes, maybe they would have to be reserved for time spent at the apartment or on rare days out.

Coryo is waiting outside since he got let out a few minutes early. There was no use in starting a lecture when going over the syllabus took a full hour and a half. When students start pouring out of your room, he looks at everyone waiting to see your smiling face. Well, hoping to see you smiling.

Lysistrata walks out first, and with no sign of you with her he grabs her arm to catch her before she turns the other way.

"Thank you for doing that." He says, smiling sympathetically at her.

"Of course." She grins. "She's lovely, we talked for a bit before class."

"Yeah, she is. Anyway, thanks." He nods at her, dropping her arm and with a kind nod, she's back on her way.

He counts his blessings that he had run into her after leaving you for that class a few hours earlier.

"Hey, Lyssie." He grins, stopping her in the hall as she was on the way to class.

"Coryo. How are you?" She smiles and he shrugs.

"I'm alright." He replies quickly. "What class are you going to?"

"Uh..." She looks briefly at her notes. "Geography. B217."

He sighs in relief, and she looks at him confused and lets him pull her to the side of the hall. "That's Y/N's class, would you mind sitting with her? She told me that this morning that no one would and I know she just really wants to make some friends... Could you do that for me?"

"Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N, your tribute?" Her eyes go wide and he nods. She didn't pay any attention to gossip and focussed more on getting from one class to another. She didn't even know that you were here.

He chews on his cheek while he waits for her to respond. If anyone was willing to make that social sacrifice, it would be Lyssie. School was never a popularity contest to her.

"Of course I can. Yeah."

When you walk out not long after her, he's quickly joining your side. Earlier, he felt so uneasy having you all over him with people watching and by now he just missed you. If he didn't know better, he would have decided he didn't care- but he has to.

"How was it?" He asks and you smile, as per usual, but he notes that now you have untucked your scarf and are instead using it to drape back over your shoulders and around your arms and back.

"It was delightful." You say happily, following his steps along the hall. "And yours?"

"Delightful?" He asks, smile tugging at his lips. He can't help it. "That wouldn't be a word I would use, but I would say it was okay."

"Okay is better than awful." You shrug.

"Certainly is." He agrees, leaning down to speak quietly into your ear in the loud hallway. "Missed my girl, though."

"Is that me?" You ask, allowing him to open the door to the building for you.

"Of course it's you." He chuckles as you pass him. "What do you mean?"

You laugh. "Well, I met a girl named Livia in my class and she told me that the two of you were engaged."

Coryo groans, letting the door fall shut as he follows behind you. "No, ew. She's... no. Absolutely not. Maybe if I planned on marrying someone I absolutely despise, then she would be the perfect candidate."

"But that's not what you look for in a woman?" You ask, turning to walk backward in front of him.

"Nope."

"I'll take your word for it." You giggle, seemingly nonchalant about Livia's apparently blatant attempts to scare you away. Coryo wouldn't let that happen, and he's glad you didn't see it that way.

He smiles at you as he rejoins your side.

"Coryo." You say, breaking up the peaceful quiet of your walk home. He looks at you. "I think I shall look for a job."

"A job?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "You don't need a job, we talked about this. Just focus on school."

"No, I know." You say quietly. "But I think I would just like some spending money, perhaps get some new clothes. Wouldn't that be nice?"

His heart sinks unexpectedly. As much as he would love to see you blending in more and embracing the culture that came with living in the Capitol, it didn't feel like that would really suit you. If he wanted a Capitol girl, he could have had one. Apparently, that's not what he wanted anymore, but the more you blended in and became "one of them" like he promised Dr. Gaul you would, the more likely people would be to accept the extent of your relationship. However undefined it may still be.

"If that's what you would like, but you don't have to work for that." He shakes his head. "I told you I would take you to the mall, the one with the ice cream shop. Maybe we can go on Friday." Friday was the first day of your weekend- the one day during the week that neither of you had any classes.

"That would be fun." You smile up at him. "I'll just have a look around, see what people are wearing. Get a better idea of what to save for."

"If that's what you want, love."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

189 notes · View notes

futbol16 · 1 year

Text

I Miss You • Steph Catley

Request: this is the combination of like 4 different requests and I hope it turned out good

Word count: 5k (so sorry;)

You let out a breath as you lean over your leg to stretch, the rest of your teammates doing the same as they cool down from the training you’ve just had.

Kyra is animatedly speaking to you on your right. The youngster is explaining how she thinks the two of you could link up the best for tomorrow's group stage game against Nigeria. The midfielder and yourself as a forward have had very good chemistry on the pitch in your previous game against Ireland and Kyra was excited to perform just as well against the African team. Your head is turned towards the brunette, however your gaze is locked onto another one.

Emily and Steph are deep in conversation almost opposite you and Kyra and you watch as the defender stretches her hip flexor. Your eyes roam over her body as she pushes her hips deeper and you breathe in deeply at the motion, Kyra’s voice long forgotten.

You can’t tear your eyes away from her, the way her quads flex that bit, and the way her hips are moving. It’s her infectious laugh that breaks you out of your staring and brings you back to earth as Kyra’s voice becomes clearer next to you. As if she feels you looking, Steph turns to where the two of you are and she gives you a beaming smile, one that makes you bite your lip as you smile back at her, trying to withhold the massive grin that would otherwise spread across your face.

“Alright ladies, that’s it for today. Get changed and lunch will be waiting for you in the cafeteria!” Tony announces with a clap of his hands.

This time you make sure to actually listen to what Kyra’s saying as you make your way back towards the changing rooms for a quick shower and change of clothes.

You’re one of the last ones to leave the locker room and you quickly tie your damp hair into a loose bun as you walk towards the cafeteria. Before you can take the last turn a hand grasps your elbow and pulls you away. Your eyes connect with familiar brown ones and you let her lead you away from where you were going.

“I miss you” Steph confesses as the two of you come to a stop near the end of a hallway. You intertwine your fingers as you bring yourself closer to her, a cheeky smile on your face.

“I’ve been here the whole time” the defender in front of you rolls her eyes at the statement before gazing into yours again, her big brown eyes shimmering with nothing but adoration and longing.

“You know that’s not what I meant” she says quietly, almost like she’s afraid someone would hear the two of you.

You know what she means. The two of you hadn’t had the chance to have a moment to yourselves in the last three weeks of the world cup preparations and group games because you were always around your teammates. Despite seeing each other almost every hour of every day, the pair of you hadn’t been able to be close the way you could at Arsenal.

“I know, I miss you too” you admit and Steph smiles at you, leaning into your touch as you lightly cup her face. Her hands slide lower on your body until they take their place on your waist and she pulls you into her embrace. You fight back from smiling onto her lips as the butterflies erupt in your stomach and Steph deepens the kiss as your other hand squeezes her bicep. The kiss is fervent and passionate as your lips meet over and over, almost desperate to be touching each other every time you pull away. The brunette gasps into your mouth as she feels your tongue trace her lower lip and you take your chance to slip it into her warm mouth.

You’ve known your girlfriend long before you transferred to Arsenal from Lyon almost two years ago, thanks to the two of you playing together on the national team. But you’ve never tried anything with her until recently when she hurt herself and you realized just how much you cared for your friend.

Steph had pulled a muscle during a match against Man City and had to be subbed off in the second half. The second the final whistle was blown you were off towards the medical room insearch of your Aussie teammate. You eventually found her lying there but she didn’t seem to be in any serious pain. That didn’t mean you weren’t worried and you made sure to voice your concerns. At first you were confused as Steph only listened to your mini rant, her eyes never leaving you and her mouth slightly hung open. When you finally finished talking your eyes found hers again before they lowered as her tongue wet her lips. Before you knew it you were being pulled down and into a hot kiss by the girl.

Both of you were so immersed in the feeling that you hadn’t thought about your other teammates possibly walking in on the two of you making out until someone’s shoes squeaked against the floor. You abruptly pulled away in panic and found Caitlin staring at the two of you with her eyes wide. She had come in search of the other two members of your Aussie trio at Arsenal to also check on Steph but it seemed like she was doing better than good.

“Woah…Mackenzie isn’t going to like this” were the words that left her mouth and made your blood run cold.

That was the reason why you’ve been keeping your relationship a secret. The West Ham goalkeeper was your older sister and Mackenzie Arnold doesn’t play around when it comes to her little sister.

You made Caitlin promise you to not tell your sister about what she’d seen and the forward swore to secrecy despite her close friendship with Mackenzie. You knew that if your sister were to know about you and Steph she would go absolutely ballistic and her protectiveness over you would shine through even more. The two of you had a very close bond despite the five year age difference and if it weren’t for the goalkeeper you wouldn’t have become a household name so early on in your career.

Like many of your national teammates you made your debut for the Matildas at the young age of 15. This and your talent earned you a spot on the roster for the 2015 World Cup the following year and despite your early exit in the tournament by the end of the summer you had scouts knocking on your front door.

You didn’t want to leave Australia and more importantly you didn’t want to leave Mackenzie. She however, convinced you to sign for Lyon and after a heartfelt teary goodbye you left to join the French club’s B team.

With your sister’s words in your mind - ‘make a name for yourself sooner than later’- you started the 2016 season in Lyon’s senior team. From there you worked hard day in day out to earn your spot on every list and every roster and any award you could receive for your great achievements.

It was difficult at first, being so young and in a foreign country with a weird language but the team helped the best they could. Still, you spoke with Mackenzie every chance you got and you missed her dearly which made you even more excited for international breaks. Your sister was just as eager to see you and made sure to keep you within reach at camps.

The brunette had displayed her protectiveness many times since you’ve left, whether that was in front of your Lyon teammates or the Matildas or just anyone, she was there glaring down at the person from behind you. And that was only if they looked at you the wrong way.

You couldn’t imagine how she’d act if she found out that one of her friends was dating her little sister.

Steph chased after your lips as you pulled away and you gave her another peck before you moved elsewhere.

“I’m so obsessed with you” the brunette’s heavy breathing in your ear made you go crazy and her words only spurred you on as her fingers pressed into your lower back. You nipped at her jawline, tracing the curve of it and then skimmed down her neck.

“My pretty girl” you whispered into her skin and Steph immediately blushed as she buried her own head into the crook of your neck. Her arms moved around your shoulders and you breathed in deeply as you accepted her warm embrace. The two of you stood there hugging for a few seconds, just enjoying each other’s presence. The echo of a door being slammed shut made you come back to your senses and you pulled back from your girlfriend.

“Come, they’ll be wondering where we are” Steph pressed her lips to yours once last time before the pair of you headed towards the cafeteria for lunch.

Upon entering you heard your name being called and found your sister waving you over to her table.

“What took you so long?” the goalkeeper asks you as you sit next to her, Alanna and Caitlin opposite to you.

“Aww don’t be so worried Macca, no one will kidnap me” you could only smile as your sister rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know who would want to” her joke made Alanna snort and you pushed at Mackenzie’s shoulder. “I brought you some food” she nodded to the tray in front of you and you clasped your hands to your heart.

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you gasped and the other two giggled. “Thank you”

The day of the Nigeria match you entered the stadium in better spirits than you left it. The journey back to base camp and the hotel was relatively silent and although you scored one of Australia’s two goals you were disappointed in the way you played.

Your head rests against Caitlin’s shoulder and in any other case you’d be fighting back sleep. This time though your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of what you could’ve done better and how the team could improve for the next group game because the loss meant that now your place in the world cup was in danger.

You’re anxiously picking at the calluses on your hand even though you take good care of them so they wouldn’t harden too much but you couldn’t care less at this moment, far too upset.

A hand grasping your own forces you to stop and you sigh heavily as you turn to bury your head in the forward’s shoulder.

Caitlin’s eyes meet Steph’s who sits in the row opposite and in front of you and she eyes your form in concern. As much as the captain wants nothing more than to take you into her arms and remind you football is a team sport, she cannot do such things in front of your other teammates, under your sister’s watchful eye.

All throughout recovery day Steph’s eyes can’t seem to leave you and she finally gets her chance to talk to you as everyone is told where to go first. She slips in beside you as you exit the room with the others and you offer her a smile. Steph is just about to open her mouth to ask how you’re doing when a taller body joins your otherside.

“What’s up nugget?” Mackenzie’s voice rings out and she pats your shoulder. Steph deflates slightly, knowing she won’t be able to speak to you privately and she’s left to listen to your conversation with your older sister.

You pray Mackenzie doesn’t notice the slight stutter in your voice when your fingers brush against Steph’s. The defender’s hand inches closer and grazes yours again but you don’t give into the temptation in fear that the keeper would notice. You’re so focused on trying not to hold her hand that you can barely pay attention to what your sister’s saying, once again too distracted by the defender.

A relieved sigh leaves Steph’s mouth when Mackenzie bids her goodbye to head towards the physios while the two of you continue towards the ice baths. This time you aren’t shy to take her hand into yours.

“Stephy baby” the brunette grins at you as she squeezes your hand and you lean into her slightly though still alert in case someone sees the two of you.

“Are you okay?” she voices her concern and you beam up at her.

“I am now” your words and the cheeky smile on your face has the brunette swooning and she presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before you open the door to the pools and the two of you reluctantly pull away.

Alanna and Caitlin’s laughs reach your ears before you see them, the pair having also been instructed to start with the ice baths as recovery.

“Come on mate, you’re so slow!” Alanna calls out to you from her place in one of the pools. you raise the shorts you’ve just pulled off into the air, threatening to throw it at her if she keeps rushing you.

Your Arsenal teammates laugh at your antics, the brunettes already in their own pool.

“Can’t even wait a second” you jokingly murmur under your breath as you round the pool to where Alanna is floating around. When you reach the edge you realize that she has made it into the deeper end of the pool but you’re too lazy to walk all the way back to the other side.

“Lani, help me in please” you reach your hands out towards the blonde who chuckles at your distress and paddles closer to the edge. Your hands settle on her shoulders while hers are on your sides as she helps you lower yourself into the cold water.

Upon entering a loud squeal leaves your mouth and the three are once again left to laugh at you. You instantly cling to your sister’s best friend who doesn’t mind it at all as she hugs you, continuing to laugh as your teeth chatter.

“So dramatic” she huffs and you shoot her a glare. “You are such a baby” you know she means no harm, jokes like this were pretty common amongst you.

“Yeah, well deal with it”

Steph watches with a fond smile on her face, her own arms crossed over her body and she almost jumps in place when a smirking Caitlin appears in her line of sight.

“You’re not jealous are you?” If only Caitlin knew the reason she was staring so hard is because she wants to be able to hold you like that without a care in the world about who’s watching. “You know Lani’s like her second sister”

“And you’re her third” Steph adds with a chuckle as Caitlin smirks proudly, shrugging her shoulders as if to say ‘that’s right!’.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be so affectionate with your teammates, especially the ones on your national team. When you first got called up as a young 15 year old, you stuck close to your sister’s side for the first few camps which meant you stuck close to her friends too. Alanna, Caitlin, Sam and Hayley were quick to take you under their wings and you were grateful for them. You basically grew up with the girls and you still maintained this close relationship.

You missed them as well when you moved to Lyon but you were overjoyed when Ellie joined the French club too.

When game day finally arrives you’re more than ready to show Canada just what you’re capable of. The team is well aware that the world assumes today will be an easy day in the office for the North Americans, but your team also knows just how wrong they are about that.

It is immediately clear that although the team is the same that won Canada their Olympics, they’re not playing like Olympians. Instead the ball remains almost only in the Matildas possession and it doesn’t take you long to ease the crowd’s nerves.

Just six minutes into the game Kyra catches a misplaced pass and sends it over to Caitlin who races up the field through the reds and then slides it over to you. You fool Buchanan with a body faint to the left and then move to her right before you rocket the ball past the goalkeeper.

You’re off in a sprint immediately and you almost land on the corner flag as you jump in celebration. Caitlin catches up to you just a second before the others do and they dogpile the two of you, smiles blinding. You’re eventually pulled to your feet by Hayley who proudly kisses your forehead and you catch a glimpse of your benched teammates returning to their seats.

The performance from the Matilda’s is one you know people will be talking about for years to come as Hayley and yourself each slot in another goal before the halftime whistle.

“I’m so proud of you sis!” Mackenzie lifts you into her arms as you make your way off the field and your cheeks burn at the compliment.

“Thanks Macca” she flashes you a big smile, one of those that you know is only reserved for a select few and she squeezes you one last time before letting you back on your feet.

“My little hero, huh?” she quizzes jokingly and your sister pulls your head back into her chest as you near the tunnel.

There really isn’t much to say during the halftime talk but Tony makes sure to voice his joy.

Your eyes shine bright as you listen to your girlfriend make her captain’s speech and you admire her in all her glory. She looked so good in the blue kit it made you drool and you’re knocked out of your trance by Caitlin’s elbow digging into your side. Steph finishes with a simple ‘let's continue keep going!’ but it has everyone pumped for the second half.

Despite the four fresh players on Canada’s side it doesn’t help them much with turning the game around and your heart almost leaps out of your chest in ecstasy when Mary gets her first goal of the tournament. The young City player was one of your good friends and you had been waiting for her to get her moment to shine and she has delivered it perfectly.

It is clear that the Canadians are upset by the goal difference in just the 60th minute of the game. It’s getting to be near impossible for them to make it out of the group stages while the Matilda’s are cruising away with a seemingly easy victory.

The reds start getting more physical, more aggressive and your blood boils when Hayley ends up on the ground for the second time in ten minutes.

You’re determined to get payback for it and you get your chance to do so when Ellie sends a long ball towards you. You control it perfectly before Viens even gets to think about it and you speed off towards the goal.

Buchanan’s nostrils flare as she squares up like a bull. You’re coming in hot but she doesn’t hesitate to match your fire and she dives in without much thought.

Everything goes silent around you as you watch the Canadian grit her teeth under you. A yelp leaves you as her studs slide across your thigh and her other leg knocks into the side of your other leg. You damn near do a side flip in the air before you land painfully on her foot that’s still raised, studs facing upwards. The crowd is screaming and it is almost deafening the referee whose whistle is fortunately still heard by the players. Your body flops limply off Buchanan as she pushes you away from her, studs still embedded into your side.

The ringing in your ears is loud and your arm remains cradling your side, feeling absolutely winded. You gasp into the grass, attempting to force air into your lungs but it’s all too painful and your eyes water.

Your sight is blurred with tears but you can see blobs of turquoise running towards you. Steph’s body is quivering with fear and worry as she reaches you first, closely followed by Caitlin and Emily. One of her hands finds your face as the other rests on your back.

“Breathe Y/N, breathe please” you don’t notice the shake in her voice but the other two do who jump into action trying to help you as best as they can.

Mackenzie stares at the big screen in panic as they replay the foul and she holds onto the goalpost knowing it is the only way she could stop herself from running across the field. However, as soon as she sees you on the screen and the blood on your thigh she abandons her post and races past the medics running onto the field.

“Y/N!” she calls out as she arrives at the scene, the medics hot on her tail.

“I’m okay, I’m okay” you let out between gasps before you let your head fall against Steph’s thigh, the defender’s hand resting on the top of your head. The medics instantly move to assess the damage and one of them lifts your shirt as the other wipes the blood off your leg.

“Oh what the…fuck” Mackenzie’s face contorts into sorrow as she recognizes the stud patterns on your ribs. By now the team is crowding you with the referee also standing close by just in case.

“I’m good, it just hurts a lot”

“So you’re not good” your sister deadpans and even though you’re in pain you find the energy to roll your eyes at her.

“Y/N/N you’re going to have to go off” Alanna speaks from above your sister who nods along.

“No, I don’t want to” you shake your head, choosing to ignore the sighs both Steph and Caitlin let out from beside you.

“Well you are” one of the medics interrupts before helping you sit up. Mackenzie is quick to stand by your side and with her arm around you, you’re led off the field and towards the bench.

“Take care of her please” your sister nods towards Sam who’s already holding an ice pack for you.

There’s still 20 minutes on the clock and as the time ticks off the pain in your ribs seems to ache less. When you see your girlfriend step up to take the penalty in the 94th minute you’re on your feet by the sidelines. You know where she’s going to shoot it and she glances towards the bench to give you a smile before the whistle is blown. The ball sails past Sheridan smoothly but all your focus is on Steph as she runs towards you.

“YES BABY!” Your hands find her face as you scream into her face, her own arms spread as she braces for your teammates.

This time it’s Alanna’s turn to stare up at the screen as they replay the goal and then the celebrations. She squints her eyes as she tries to lip read, having not heard what you said. A moment later her eyes widen in shock and she glances behind her to where Mackenzie is standing in goal, wanting to check if your sister saw that too. The brunette seems to have her focus elsewhere and Alanna decides not to mention it even on the way back to the hotel, for your sake. And of course because the team is happily celebrating and shouting on the bus the whole 30 minute drive.

Later that night you find yourself wandering into the common room of base camp and you smile to yourself when you see your girlfriend laid across one of the beanbags, her nose deep in the card album in front of her.

“Well hello Stephy!” your warm voice makes her look up and a grin instantly takes over her expression. She’s glad to see you in much better shape and judging by the carefree look on your face, the medics have told you not to worry too much about the bandages on your thigh and side as it wouldn’t keep you out of the next match.

“Hey puddin’!” she pats the space next to her and you eagerly plop down and snuggle into her side. “Is everything okay, pretty girl?”

You hum at her in answer as you gaze into her eyes. Your hand reaches out towards her and your fingertips skim over her skin, lightly tracing her cheekbone and Steph stares at you in a dreamy state. She sits up straighter to be closer to you and she cups your cheek to run her thumb along your bottom lip.

“I was so scared when you went down today” she whispers into the air between you, her eyes jumping across your face almost like she’s trying to memorize every detail. Just as you open your mouth to speak she leans in to claim your lips as hers. Steph kisses you deep and slow, pouring every ounce of her love for you into the kiss and you melt against her, turning putty in her hold.

“You’re messing around with my little sister?!” the loud screech makes the two of you jump apart and you stumble to your feet as your sister comes into view.

“Macca…” you nervously call out to her. Alanna and Caitlin appear behind her too, alerted by the scream.

“Oh no, don’t try to save her guts!” your sister stares right past you to Steph who shuffles nervously on her feet, a petrified look on her face and you suddenly feel even more guilty.

“What is this Steph, hmm? Are you fucking my little sister?” she asks coldly and you frown at her. You turn to your girlfriend who lightly shakes her head at you, telling you not to try and stand up for her. Mackenzie huffs at the exchange between you and she chuckles humorlessly, staring deeply into the defender’s eyes.

“You know, when I told you and Caitlin to take care of her at Arsenal, this isn’t what I meant. I didn’t mean to date her!” she spits and you suck in a harsh breath at her tone. You were also unaware of the fact that she asked the two to watch out for you.

“Mackenzie.” Alanna’s voice makes her falter for a second and Caitlin takes this as her chance and she leads her club teammate out of the room before this could escalate even more. You whisper a small sorry to them as they walk past you.

“How long has this been going on?” you can’t lie to your sister, the both of you are very aware of that fact.

“Seven months” you shrink in your place as you see the frown on her face deepen.

“Unbelievable.” the goalkeeper shakes her head and you turn your gaze to the floor. “Why not Ellie, or Charli, or Kyra, the two of you are best friends anyway.”

“Mackenzie!” an offended call of her name makes her look at you, well aware of how stupid her statement was. “Because I chose Steph and Steph chose me.” you tell her before your voice turns quiet. “And I’m in love with her”

Your sister stares at you in disbelief and she shakes her head again like she’s disappointed.

“I need a moment to think about this” she mumbles as she turns her back to you. Your expression breaks as tears threaten to roll down your cheeks.

“Macca-”

“Y/N, leave me alone.” she basically flees the scene and you’re left to crumble into a mess of tears in Alanna’s arms.

“She’ll come around, give her a second” the defender murmurs into your ear and you nod into her shoulder as you calm down. Alanna’s lips form a small smile as she presses a kiss to your head. “I’m really happy for you though”

“Thank you Lani” you mumble.

You can’t fall asleep. You’re trying so hard to let your mind rest but you’ve been staring up at your ceiling for the past four hours. Finally coming to the conclusion that this wasn’t going to work out unless you eased your stress by what’s causing it, you wander down the hallway.

You knock quietly on the door and a few moments later the same defender that held you just a few hours ago opens the door for you. Alanna offers you a comforting smile as she lets you in.

“I was just about to go shower” you don’t comment on the fact that it’s 2am and she’s only now going to shower, because neither of you are supposed to be awake. You pretend not to notice the pointed look she gives your sister as she makes her way towards their bathroom.

You stand uncomfortably in the tensely silent room until you hear the shower start running and you finally look towards where Mackenzie is sitting up against the headboard. She stares at you for a second before slowly nodding her head to the space by her feet. You take her invitation and sit by her, waiting for her to say something. She never does though.

“Macca, please” you plead with her, your eyes tearing up slightly. The two of you rarely got into fights so not getting along was very overwhelming for the both of you.

“Please don’t hate me” you croak out. The statement breaks your sister’s heart and she looks at you guiltily as her face softens.

“I could never hate you” she whispers as she opens her arms. You let yourself fall into your big sister’s embrace and she wraps her arms around you tightly. “You’re my baby sister, too important to me.”

You only nod into her neck, understanding exactly why she was so overprotective of you.

Still, you can’t help but ask that one question.

“Are you mad at Steph?” there’s a beat of silence before you hear her sigh.

“No, Y/N/N. I’m sorry I made you think I was.” Clearly whatever talk she had with Alanna just before you knocked on their door has payed off.

“So you’re okay with..” you trail off, not sure what reaction to expect from her.

“Yes, I’m okay with you and her.” you involuntarily let out a giggle of glee but Mackenzie follows with a laugh of her own. “Go to your girl, I’m sure she’s dying to see you”

You all but hop off her bed and she gives you a grin, realizing all she’s ever wanted was for you to be happy and if Steph was the one who made you happy then so be it. You give her a big kiss on the cheek and then you dash out of her room and back towards yours, knowing your girlfriend was bound to be somewhere close by.

You find Steph sitting on the edge of your bed, anxiously biting her nails as she stares off into the distance.

“Stephy!” she’s up on her feet in an instant, and she catches you with ease as you barrel into her. A wave of relief washes over her as she takes in your excited expression, knowing that whatever had happened, it meant the two of you would be okay.

“I love you so much” she breathes out, her brown eyes shimmering in the dimly lit room but you recognize the look in her eyes.

“I love you so so much” she repeats and she doesn’t let you answer as she dips her head and connects your lips, immediately deepening the kiss in desperate need to feel you close.

You don’t have to tell her you love her just as much, because she knows it and she’s ready to show the world how much you mean to her. After all, you did get the Mackenzie Arnold approval.

#futbol16 #woso imagine #woso x reader #steph catley x reader #mackenzie arnold x reader #australia matildas imagine #woso one shot

840 notes · View notes